disappointment, and I’m sure Kate and Brenner felt the same. But Chet and the mission planners were right—if we split up, there was a better chance of someone getting back to make a full report, and Washington needed a few people alive to congratulate.
Chet said to us, “Take only what you need and be on the road in ten minutes. When you land in Saudi Arabia, you’ll turn in your weapons, Kevlar, and commo, and you’ll be flying up to Riyadh Airport within fifteen minutes.” He further instructed us, “Burn the passports that Buck gave you and take your dip passports for the international flight to the U.S.”
Chet kept mentioning that flight home as though us hearing it would make us believe it was going to happen. And maybe it was. And maybe it wasn’t.
Chet also reminded us, “Stick your head in here before you leave.”
I promised him, “We wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye, Chet.”
He smiled.
I said to Buck, “See you later.”
He nodded, sort of smiled, and said to us, “See you later.”
The now-unemployed members of the A-team left the fish van, mission completed.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
We returned to the tower, and Brenner called Zamo down from the mafraj and told him what was happening.
Brenner said, “It’s your decision if you want to stay here and cover Buck and Chet or come with us to Marib.”
Zamo didn’t agonize much over his decision and replied, “I work for you.” He also reminded Brenner, “I don’t get paid to make decisions.”
Brenner did get paid to make decisions, and he said to Zamo, “You’ll come with us.”
I suggested, “Let’s get moving.”
We gathered up what we needed, which all fit into our overnight bags, and we left everything else for the Bedouin, including my socks and underwear.
Kate slipped her balto over her clothes, and we went down to the livestock and excrement level and built a small bonfire of passports and crumpled magazine pages, which Zamo lit with a match from his field survival kit. We made sure everything burned, then we went out into the fading sunlight of the courtyard.
The Bedouin were still sitting and squatting along the wall, probably thinking about their approaching sundown prayers, and a new recipe for goat.
Kate covered her face with her hijab, and Brenner, in his limited Arabic, seemed to be thanking our hosts for their hospitality. The Bedouin remained sitting as they all said, “As-salaam alaikum.”
Brenner responded with, “Wa alaikum as-salaam.”
And arrivederci.
Brenner said something to Yasir, who stood and waved his arm toward the parked SUVs, and Brenner told us, “He says take any one we want.”
“Which one has the bag of khat?”
Brenner didn’t ask, but Yasir did give us three shiwals, one off his own head and two from his buddies, and Brenner said to us, “This is a gift to remember them by.”
And they have my underwear to remember me.
Brenner told them that everything we’d left behind, which was mostly luggage, clothing, and one can of mixed vegetables, was theirs to keep. And, no, they couldn’t have Zamo’s sniper rifle.
I said to Yasir, “See you in New York. Ben’s Deli.” I also said, “Shuqran,” which means “thanks.”
We threw our overnight bags into the rear of one of the Land Cruisers, and carrying our weapons, we all walked to the fish van.
Chet and Buck were still watching the screens, and Chet was on the radio speaking to someone. As we entered, he said into the mic, “I’ll call you back. Out.”
He and Buck stood, and Chet said, “So, you’re taking Zamo.”
Brenner replied, without explanation, “We are.”
It was Buck who said, “The Bedouin in the courtyard are all the security we need, and some of them will accompany us to the scene.”
So we said our good-byes without getting too teary-eyed, and we all agreed that the A-team had performed admirably.
Chet said to us, “Thank you for your very professional performance.” He admitted, “It hasn’t always been easy to work together, but we’ve put our differences aside in the service of our country.” He looked at me and said, smiling, “You have been a challenge, Mr. Corey, but I’d rather work with a man like you than someone who never questions authority.”
“Thank you.” I think. Why do I always get singled out? This started in grade school.
Anyway, Buck added, “You can all be proud of your work here. Thank you for volunteering and for putting your lives at risk.” He reminded us, “The homeland will be a little safer after Bulus ibn al-Darwish is dead.”
I reminded Buck, “We have