“Right here. And Captain Mercer is restrained and on his way to the extraction point.”
“Excellent. Did you read him his rights?”
“Ms. Taylor did.”
“And I assume you didn’t follow that up with an interrogation.”
“The suspect spoke voluntarily without prompting.”
“Okay. What did he say?”
“It’s a very long story, Colonel, and I don’t have enough battery or saliva left to tell you. But he did clear up the meaning of Flagstaff.”
“What’s the meaning?”
“It’s the Afghan version of Phoenix.”
There was another silence on the phone. Dombroski said, “Are you sure?”
“Got it from Mercer, who was part of it.”
“Holy shit.”
“And Colonel Brendan Worley was a big part of it.”
“Holy shit.”
“And he doesn’t want Captain Mercer returned to U.S. soil to testify about Operation Flagstaff. But we can discuss that in a more secure transmission. Or in person.”
“All right… So how in the hell did you snatch Mercer?”
Brodie realized that Worley had never told Dombroski about the call that Worley received from Kyle Mercer himself—the call made when Brodie and Taylor were the ones in custody. Which meant Worley had assumed that Brodie and Taylor would wind up dead, like Worley’s friend Ted Haggerty. Logical assumption.
Brodie asked, “Didn’t Worley tell you that Taylor and I had been captured by Mercer’s men?”
“What?”
“And Mercer used our sat phone to call Worley, and Mercer put us on the line to speak to Worley.”
“Are you…?”
“Yes, very serious. And pissed.”
Again a silence; then Dombroski said, “For another time.” Then he remembered something. “I instructed you both not to risk looking for Mercer’s camp.”
“Right. We were just doing a river recon and somehow ran into—”
“And why did Ms. Taylor call the message line earlier, and not my cell?”
“Well… quite frankly, Colonel, we were disobeying your orders not to look for Mercer’s camp, so I told Ms. Taylor to use the message line.”
“I’m not sure how to respond to that, honestly.”
“You could say, ‘All’s well that ends well.’ ”
“I would never say that.” He asked, “Where is Mercer’s girlfriend?”
“In Caracas. She got cold feet.” But has a warm heart.
“All right. What is the condition of the prisoner?”
“Very unhappy.”
“His physical condition.”
“He’ll live.” Until Worley gets his hands on him. Brodie said, “We don’t want Captain Mercer dying in transit.”
“I understand what you’re saying. And how are you and Ms. Taylor? Ready to dance?”
“Maybe a slow one. But we’ll be okay.”
“They rough you up at that camp?”
“No worse than those POW training camps.”
“Did they… abuse Ms. Taylor?”
“They were planning to.”
“Okay… What the hell is that camp all about?”
“It’s about Kyle Mercer wanting payback for two years in Taliban hell. It’s about Worley recruiting him into Flagstaff, then double-crossing him. It’s about Mercer training a guerrilla force to undermine American interests in Venezuela.”
“So Captain Mercer is also a traitor.”
“Captain Mercer deserves his day in court.”
“All right… So you gave me a grid coordinate when you left a message this morning. How close is that to the camp?”
“Close. Recon drones can find the camp a few miles southeast of those coordinates.”
“Good. I’ll pass that on.”
“Mercer’s last order to his men was to break camp and move. So whoever gets this assignment needs to move fast. And be advised that there are civilians in the camp. Indigenous workers and nurses who cure homesickness.”
“I understand. Okay, how close are you to your rendezvous?”
“Maybe a half hour on the river, then two through the jungle.”
“And you know where you’re going?”
“We’ll figure it out. Let me give you the lat long for this airstrip.”
“Okay… but Worley has it.”
“Which is why I’m giving it to you.”
Dombroski didn’t respond to that, but said, “Ready to copy.”
Brodie recited the coordinates from memory, then said, “If the extraction is delayed or otherwise compromised, see if you can send a military aircraft for us.”
“Understood.”
Taylor said to Brodie, “Ask about Luis.”
Brodie nodded and asked, “Did our driver Luis from Caracas call you?”
“He called me General. Your idea?”
“No, sir. Language problem. He’s okay?”
“He and his family are in the hands of ICE. You and Ms. Taylor can vouch for him when you get here.”
“Good. Okay, there’s more to discuss, but my battery is low.”
“How many times have I heard that?”
“This is not my sat phone.”
“Call me from the airstrip.”
“Will try.”
“Or from the air, as you were supposed to do earlier.”
“Will do.”
“Excellent work. I will inform General Hackett.”
“Someday, thanks to me and Ms. Taylor, you’ll be sitting at his desk.”
“Someday, thanks to you, Brodie, I’ll be sitting at the desk next to yours.”