Prince Abdullah Air Base, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 0730hrs, Arabia Standard Time
Animal looked over at the maps outlining the area, his brow furrowing in concentration, making sure that certain landmarks were notated on the aviation maps so that they could make any attacks that they needed to without running their Super Hornets into the local terrain during pull-out. If there were mountains in the area – wadis counted as mountains, then they were a noted hazard.
Hawkes and Harm wandered into the briefing room that Animal had requested from the Royal Saudi Air Force which readily complied. It was to their own advantage that the Americans were taking the risk for eliminating Fahd and frankly if it meant that American blood be spilled, the Saudis were for it. Being allies extended only so far. The Saudis were a Muslim nation and thus in the Arab world toed a very thin line between being appeasing of the West versus a standard-bearer for Muslims. Animal looked up at Harm and nodded perfunctorily as he noted that both Harm and Hawkes had sanitized their uniform. Scooter had done the same and he was still getting something to eat. After he finished, he'd join them.
"Have we heard back from Snake-Pen?" Harm asked utilizing the code-word for Webb.
"When he's not talking, I'm enjoying the silence. Unfortunately it doesn't point us anywhere. I think he's enroute with Lantern." Animal growled disgustedly as he looked over at the maps. "Enjoy the downtime while you can. We'll probably be up flying in a short while as soon as Snake Pen communicates."
Scooter walked into the briefing room. "Sorry, guys…" He muttered. "A little bagged from the hop across the pond, so I decided to catch what zzz's I could. Unfortunately, it's damned hot here. Mercury's off the scale." He looked over inquisitively at Animal.
"No problem, Scooter." Animal nodded at Scooter indicating him to take a seat. "We're doing what we can, which isn't a whole hell of a lot since we ain't heard shit from Snake Pen." Getting up, he pulled a can of Coke, disgusted grumbled that it wasn't Pepsi and popped the can open. Taking a swig he growled, "We're on silence. No transmissions out, just receiving on our end. We have shit for intel. And I swear to God, I'm going to break Snake Pen's nose into as many pieces as I possibly can when I get a hold of the sorry son-of-a-bitch."
Harm felt sorry for Webb. If he thought getting his nose busted by AJ was bad; getting Animal pissed off enough to break some bones was worse by a long shot. Going up on an attack mission profile without having the ThreatInt on tap was deadly. Aviators had died from getting 'mushroomed' by lack of intel.
"Ultimately, we don't know where Fahd is, whether he's in Saudi Arabia, where he's going, what he has, if he still has any of the Stingers or whether he obtained another shipment." Animal continued. "In fact we're completely in the dark." He concluded as he looked over at each one of them. "We don't do anything until we hear from them."
"Sit on thumbs and rotate…I guess…" Scooter commented wryly.
"Sums the whole sitrep up right there…" Harm shrugged his shoulders. "Well, any idea what we're going to do here for the time being."
"Check under your bed for scorpions and sand vipers and catch up on some rest." Animal said.
Lufthansa Flight 624, Washington DC to Cairo; Seven hours aloft
"Why the hell are we going to Cairo?" Mac angrily asked Webb. "You told us we were going to Saudi Arabia."
"Need to know, Sarah." Webb replied. "We just got a tip that Sadik was in contact with a Turkish Arms buyer and he's meeting the buyer in Port Said in four days. We need to be in Egypt to see the drop take place. He was overheard talking about a Topol."
"Topol?" Mac's jaw dropped open. "That's a nuclear intercontinental ballistic missile. How did the Turks get a hold of that?"
"Turns out Budny, the arms dealer has many tentacles in the Russian mafia and those guys have ways and means of getting stuff out of Russia."
"So…that means we're flying into Cairo International and from there how the hell do we get to Port Said?" Mac liked the situation less and less.
Webb looked around to make sure that no-one was listening in and whispered. "I've got a contact. That's all you need to know for right now."
The flight would be another three hours and Mac twisted and turned uncomfortably as she looked out the window as they flew over the Atlantic. Glaring at her watch didn't seem to make the time go any faster either.
Catherine Gale's Apartment, Washington DC, 0055hrs EST.
Tossing and turning in her bed wouldn't make Catherine's misgivings go away and let her sleep. She couldn't sleep because Harm was in Saudi Arabia doing something that was highly dangerous and her mind kept spinning the idea that he could end up coming home in a box. With Kershaw telling her to keep her nose out of the matter, she couldn't continue to go digging into the operation; it was a clear warning – continue your meddling at your own peril.
The tightness in her chest made her wonder if Kershaw hadn't slipped something into her coffee that she had at three this afternoon, but realized, as goal-oriented and ruthless as Kershaw was, he wouldn't stoop to outright murder. It had to be a panic attack brought on by her concern for one Harmon Rabb. Damn that aviator, he'd managed to weasel his way into her life and cause her to care about him when she was in a career that didn't leave much room for caring about anything or anyone.
She realized that she had to tread very carefully from now on. And all this wool-gathering wasn't allowing her to sleep. She let out a curse that would have blistered the paint on the walls. How the hell was she going to get any sort of rest if she couldn't sleep in her own room, all by herself?
Prince Abdullah Air Base, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia 0830hrs, Arabia Standard Time
Harm looked out the tent at the bright sun not yet reaching the forty-five degree mark from the horizon. The Saudi F-15s on the tarmac ensconced in a revet looked as though they were blistering in the heat coming off the asphalt. It was amazing that the tires weren't melting, because he felt like he was. Putting on his RayBan sunglasses, he looked over to see his friend pacing the flight-line. His friend's face was set in an intense frown.
From what Harm could tell, no news was bad news. It meant one of two things. Either the mission had been compromised and they were in danger or the mission had been scrubbed and it was up to them to get the hell out of where they were. But right now their only choice was to wait and see what happened.
As Animal drew closer, Harm could hear him snarl something about "Fucking Snake Pen, I'm going to tattoo my fists all over his face." It probably would be wise for Snake Pen to keep away from Animal for a while. Quite possibly a long while, Harm thought, grinning widely at the thought of Webb being inflicted a one sided slug-fest; destination – his face.
When Animal had gotten close enough, he looked up and growled. "No updates, nothing so far." He growled. "They're mushrooming us right now."
Harm shook his head. "You think we should give them a while longer?" he asked as he looked over at their Super Hornets down the airfield that were broiling on the tarmac.
"Well, I can't see what else we can do. We're stuck here, one way or the other."
Harm's Apartment, North of Union Station, Washington DC, 0135hrs EST
Catherine Gale looked around to ensure there were no busy-bodies as she slipped the lock-pick through the lock and after a few minutes of ensuring the pins fell where they were, undid the lock and slipped into Harm's garage. Seeing an empty garage, knowing that Harm's corvette was more than likely at Oceana, she knew that she would have to find some way of getting into his apartment. Drawing the doors closed, she secured the deadbolts on the garage doors. Now where would be the most likely places that he would hide a key. Lawyer or not, she was still an intelligence employee and she had to undergo some operative training in order to obtain evidence which on occasion meant gaining access to premises under lock and key. Of course it was much easier with a warrant, but she had no necessity of such matters as she wasn't in a court case with the occupant of the apartment she was trying to gain access to. Rather than a court-case, she'd much rather be enfolded in his arms…tucked under the covers… Damn it, she shook her head, he must have gotten to me more than I thought.
Ah hah. She grinned triumphantly as she lifted up a toolbox located near the door, there was a little small envelope and from what she could feel, it was two keys in said envelope, she figured one was to the door, the other to the front door of his apartment. She slipped the key in the door-lock, nope, must be the other one. She smiled softly as she succeeded with the other one. Opting to use the stairs for quiet, she walked up the lightly echoing stairwell to the floor that she knew Harm's loft was in. Looking both directions to make sure no-one was in the hallway, she swiftly walked to Harm's door. Inserting the key, she turned it, unlocking the door and slipping in quietly into Harm's darkened loft. Shutting the door and locking both deadbolts she drank in the scent of him all around the loft wafting into her nostrils. Ever since that sham wedding they had had the night that she thought her mother was going to die, she had wanted nothing more than to be enveloped by his warm comforting arms. What the hell was he doing to her, his scent brought feelings to her that weren't of the G-rated kind and he wasn't even here? If she felt like this now, she was probably with her hormones, going to jump his ass when he got home.
She sat down on his couch for a long moment; just taking in the scents around her…then proceeded to walk into his bedroom, letting the feelings for the man cascade over her like a breaking wave. At least with Harm, she knew she was safe. He'd protect her and her unborn child. Having dressed to come out to Harm's apartment, she undressed again down to her slip, so that she could slip under the covers of Harm's expansive bed and feel warm and secure. His scent wafting about her like a second comforting layer, Catherine finally was able to slip off to sleep.
Lufthansa Flight 624, Washington DC to Cairo; 10:00hrs Egypt Standard Time.
If Lieutenant Colonel Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie had known where Catherine Gale was; she'd have gone incandescent with rage, but as she didn't, she was semi-relieved to know that the Lufthansa flight that Webb and her were on was about to land very shortly at Cairo International Airport. She was even more relieved when ten minutes later, the B747-400 landed on Runway 05L. "I hope you know what the hell you're doing." She muttered shortly at Webb.
"From here on in…" Webb replied. "I'm Malcolm, you are Zara – that way if anyone tries to identify us, they will only be able to link us to names that we can discard." Mac looked at him with disbelief as if names were all that could potentially be used against them.
"I hope you have the proper notations on our passports as such." Mac said as she looked down the hallway to the Egyptian Customs Authority agents standing at the end of the debarkation jet way. "And considering how you like to smoke, you didn't bring more than 200 cigarettes. Malcolm." She sneered.
"I understand Egyptian importation rules if that's what you're asking, Zara." Webb replied as he tossed off the implied insult. "According to the Egyptian law, you are not allowed to import more than 200 cigarettes (or 25 cigars, or 200g of tobacco) and 2 litres of alcohol. It is also illegal to bring in drugs, firearms, and cotton, so none of those items are things that I have in my possession at the time. If I want to smoke, I will buy them at the local bazaar." He smiled casually. "There is no limit to the amount of currency you can bring in or out of Egypt. However, the traveler is requested to declare amounts of 500 Egyptian Pounds or foreign equivalent, so if I bring in anything more than that, I have to disclose it with the customs agent."
"Glad someone is aware of this matter…Malcolm." She growled. "I'm glad you told me that before we got into the country?" she said sarcastically.
Prince Abdullah Air Base, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 1145hrs Arabia Standard Time
Animal's sat-phone vibrated as Animal picked up. "Hello!" He growled.
"Viper Lead? It's Snake-Pen, We're on the ground. Shuttling to Port Said, then setting up for a potential surveillance on Fahd. Are you ready to move?"
"Have you got clearance with Pharoah for us to put down there?" Animal snarled. "Because I was thinking you left us high and dry. Knowing how you tend to turn berries sour."
"Yeah…whatever." Snake Pen replied rather sardonically.
"Don't whatever me, Snake-Pen or you may get a fistful of knuckles." Animal didn't take well to Webb's tone. "If you haven't got clearance from Pharoah in 24 hrs, I'm going to leave for home. My patience is running dry! So you'd better hop to it." Skates, Scooter and Harm looked immensely amused at hearing Animal snarl at Webb. "Talk to me when you've got clearance for my Vipers to put down in Cairo. Don't talk to me until you got something. Viper Lead OUT!" and snapped off the connection.
"I think I'm going to go scrounge a couple of warm Cokes." Scooter said as Animal glowered at the phone. "I'd suggest you guys come with me. He's not gonna be in a good mood for a while."
Harm's Apartment, North of Union Station, Washington DC, 0635hrs EST
Catherine's eyes bulged for a moment as she felt her stomach lurch. Whipping off the blanket, she scurried into the washroom and managed to lean over the toilet before she emptied the contents of her stomach. After purging her stomach, she lay limply against the wall, exhausted. "Screw this…" she said audibly. "I'm calling in sick." Flushing the toilet, she grabbed her cell-phone from her purse.
"Kershaw!" was the barked response from her Deputy Director of CIA Operations.
"Kershaw?" she questioned. "I'm not coming in today. I just puked up my guts this morning and I feel like the room is spinning." She stated. "I may go in to see the doctor, but I'm not doing ANYTHING else!" she growled emphatically daring Kershaw to tell her no.
Deputy Director, CIA, Office, Langley, VA, 0635hrs EST
Deputy Director, CIA Harrison Kershaw grinned to himself as he heard Cathy growl at him over the telephone. She was a spitfire. And being kept apprised of her condition, he knew that it wouldn't be wise to tell her to come into work today. It wasn't known widely, but Langley kept GPS tabs on their agents and Harrison Kershaw knew that the GPS tabs hadn't matched up with her residence location this morning. "Never mind, Catherine, you get well. Hopefully you can let me know when you'll be ready to return to work." At the surprised amazement in Catherine's voice, he chuckled. "I'm not old enough to not remember how my wife felt at that time, Catherine." He said meaningfully, "Best remedy is lots of water and lots of rest."
"How…did you…know?" Catherine said.
"I have eyes." Was all Kershaw would say. "Take care, get some rest."
"Sir, the tabs on her phone's GPS say she's over at Commander Harmon Rabb's place. The coordinates match up exactly." The agent said after he noticed Kershaw place the phone down. Kershaw let out a breath and plastered a grin across his face. Iron Catherine Gale was a driven career woman, some would say tougher than nails, but some cracks were showing in that façade.
Harm's Apartment, North of Union Station, Washington DC, 0643hrs EST
The dial-tone left Catherine with her mouth hanging open in shock. She wasn't sure what to make of Kershaw's ready acquiescent agreement to her missing work for the day. She had been prepared to fight for her day off and he had taken the wind out of her sails. After washing her face and patting it dry with a towel that scented of clean laundry soap and Harm, which she lingered in longer than was usual, she returned to the bed and lay down under the covers, to look up at the ceiling, wondering what she could do for the day of rest that she had obtained. She opted to pick up a book and read, gently noting where the book-mark had been placed so that she could replace it in there when she was done. She was already to spend a languid day curled up in Harm's blankets and enjoying his book, when she realized that her stomach was complaining about being hungry.
"Why the hell should I feed you when you're just going to throw it up again?" she grumbled to her stomach as she trudged out to the kitchen to see if Harm had anything in his fridge. Of course she knew that she had to keep the little one in her tummy fed – nurture and cherish and all that. Sure enough, a typical male bachelor, she grumped, he'd had nothing cooked before he left. After three days stuck in the fridge, anything that would have been cooked beforehand would have been growing things best not mentioned if, with her uneven constitution, she wanted to keep from having to purge whatever else was left at the bottom of the gaping pit that was her stomach the moment. She sighed and muttered to herself. "I guess I'm going to have to order something or venture out…" trying to come up with a good excuse for being here, if she managed to run into a nosey neighbor.
Cairo International Airport, Cairo, Egypt, 1235hrs
Webb (Malcolm) wore a disgusted look on his face as Sarah (Zara) looked at him with a curious expression. "So did you make contact with the Vipers."
"Yeah…got an earful too. Doesn't Viper Lead ever shut up?" Webb growled.
"Nope." Mac replied. "And he's a damned good competent officer too. So if I were you, I'd behave yourself."
Hailing a taxicab that moved forward to meet them they both slipped into the back seat.
"As-salām 'alaykum kayfa ḥālak, Shukran. Hello, How are you, my friend" The cab-driver turned to Webb and smiled.
"Ana bekhair, shukran! Wa ant?" Webb replied, he had studied the language at Langley, but Mac could still tell that he didn't sound like a native-speaker.
"ayn tʊri:d an naðhab." The driver said. "Where do you wish to go…" he tried to say casually, but he knew that there would be a discussion when Webb had pointed him to the safe-house.
"'ana mehtāg mosa`da" Webb replied. "I need your help," he paused then said in English. "Where is the safehouse."
"Safe house… I will take you there…" The cabdriver stated in heavily Middle Eastern accented English. "My contact…he will meet you there. Mr. Malcolm." And gave him a big wink to let him know that he was one of the CIA contacts there.
Mac looked over at Webb. She wasn't too sure of the situation but the crawling feeling that was going up her spine wasn't telling her anything good about this. And the way that the cab-driver was talking up Webb wasn't giving her a good sign. The cab continued to wind its way through the streets of Cairo. The farther he went into the inner city the more alarm bells were going off in her mind. It was time to get out as far as she could think and at the first stop for the light, Mac instantaneously reacted, just as the driver was starting pull away, she kicked open the door and dove out of the car. When she had come to a stop, she picked herself up and started sprinting.
Egyptian Cab, Cairo Egypt.
"Wait…Mac…what are you doing!?" Webb shouted frantically, wondering why Mac would just throw herself out of the cab like that…just as the cab-driver looked over. "Hold on a moment!" Webb made to get up. Just as another person got in the open door of the cab, sat down beside him. "Let the woman go. We will deal with her when she brings her friends with her." the new person said calmly to the taxi-driver and then turned to look at him. "Well, Mr. Webb…we meet again."
Streets of Cairo, Egypt 1250hrs
Mac sprinted taking several turns and zigzags along the alley, terror fueling her every step. It was a trap and there was no way that she could rescue Webb. Not unless she had made efforts to communicate with Langley and she did not have any way of communicating with anyone. All she knew was that her cell-phone was in the back of a now moving cab rapidly receding in the milieu of the traffic that was Cairo Egypt. Her next task was to find someone that she could use to help her.
"law samahti?" a kindly old gentleman asked. "You look as though Shezmu has chased you throughout Cairo. Is there something wrong?"
Mac half-sobbed as she panted for breath, exhausted from the run, but knowing that she wasn't out of danger yet. "Esmi…Zara…Zara Mackenzie; I am lost, I need to find the American Embassy. Please help me…"
"My child, my child…yes…of course…I shall help you…" He looked around carefully making sure that he was not heard. He ushered her forward to guide her towards his home which he shared with his children and his elderly wife, "My son will take you there. Unfortunately I cannot. My bones are frail and my limit of walking has been reached for today. There have been reports of kidnappings, so the best place to take you would be your country's embassy. Be calm, Zara…we shall get you home."
CIA Headquarters; Langley, VA 2135hrs EST
"Jason, Call in DDCIA. We've got a miss on a contact by Snake-Pen. Repeat Snake-Pen is missing."
Streets of Cairo, Egypt 0535hrs
Samir, the boy furtively traced his steps across the pavement as he ducked in from shadow to lengthening shadow as they made their way towards the US Consulate on Amrika Al Latinia from New Cairo City…in the opposite direction of where she and Webb were supposed to have been heading. At least there, she would be able to be in the company of United States Marines who would be guarding the United States Consulate.
"Hurry…" was all the boy would say as he motioned her forward. "Hurry…"