The Panther

CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT


Chet, looking very happy, said to us, “The Panther has bitten.”

Right. But The Panther wasn’t biting Chet, who, being a spook, was not really here. So Chet excused himself, saying, “I’ll stay in contact with the Predators.” And off he went down the stairs and into the van.

So now we had to look like prisoners of the Bedouin, who fortunately treated their kidnapped guests well.

Kate wrapped her hair and face in her black scarf as the four Bedouin came up the stairs and quickly gathered up most of our things, including our sat-phone antenna from the window. It might be hard to explain to the Al Qaeda guys if we got a phone call, so we also shut off our hand-held radios, sat-phones, and cell phones.

The four Bedouin carried our baggage up one level, as well as our boxes of canned food and our reading material, leaving only our bread and water on the floor. Our friend Yasir and another Bedouin rolled up our carpet and also carried it up the stairs.

The Bedouin wanted our M4 carbines and Zamo’s rifle, but Brenner flat-out refused, and we stowed them under our straw bedding. We also kept our Colt .45s concealed in our holsters, which we moved to the small of our backs, though we had to take off our Kevlar vests in case the Al Qaeda guys were sharp enough to notice. Kate took care of that, modestly, in the indoor outhouse.

We also gave the Bedouin our watches and the non-diplomatic passports that we’d used to check in at the Bilqis Hotel, but we kept our diplomatic passports in case we needed to make a dash for the Saudi border.

We’d thought this out over the last few days, and it seemed that we’d thought of everything. But then Kate said, “Chet’s blanket.”

Right.

Buck picked up the blanket and tossed it out the window. I would have tossed it down the shit shaft.

So, did we look like prisoners who’d been cooped up here for four days? We certainly smelled the part.

Last thing. We scuffed up the floor where our carpet had been and Buck impressed us with his tradecraft by saying, “Perhaps we should put some bird droppings here.”

I told him, “That’s your job, Buck.” But he let it go.

We heard something in the courtyard and we all went to the window. The gates were open now, and a white Land Cruiser drove into the courtyard. Then another, and another.

Al Qaeda was here.

We continued to watch as the four Bedouin in the courtyard opened the rear doors of the Land Cruisers and assisted the black-hooded occupants from the vehicles. There were five of them, dressed in white foutehs and sandals. Also, they had their AK-47s slung over their shoulders. I mean, even blindfolded negotiators carried guns here.

Brenner remarked, “They’ve got to know they were driven up to the Crow Fortress.”

Buck assured us, “There are a number of places like this in the hills.”

That’s good. I hope the Bedouin drivers were smart enough to drive these a*sholes in circles for a few hours.

Anyway, we watched as the five hooded Al Qaeda guys were walked across the courtyard toward the tower. Don’t bump into that Predator van.

So now it was time for us to look like five prized Amriki worth a hundred thousand bucks.

We all sat on the bare wooden floor. From left to right it was Brenner, Zamo, Buck, me, and Kate on the far right. The four Bedouin produced three chained ankle shackles and keys. We refused their kind offer to shackle us and did it ourselves—Brenner and Zamo shared a set of shackles, as did Buck and I. Kate, being a woman, had her own set of shackles. We kept the keys. Last thing, we pulled off our shoes and socks, and the Bedouin put them under the straw.

Buck reminded us, “Scuff the soles of your feet on the floor.”

Right. Never underestimate the intelligence or the perceptive powers of the enemy. They’re not as dumb as they look. In fact, these guys probably knew what prisoners were supposed to look like.

This could be a setup, of course, and we could be real prisoners in about five minutes, or real dead. But Musa and his Bedouin had other opportunities to double-cross us. And bottom line, our hands were free and our guns were ready to be drawn.

Someone called out in Arabic from the stairwell and our buddy, Yasir, called back.

I asked Kate, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Buck reminded her, “Keep your head and eyes down.”

A few seconds later, the five hooded Al Qaeda guys with three Bedouin guiding them came up the stone stairs and into the tower room.

The Bedouin placed the five Al Qaeda guys in a line, shoulder to shoulder, about five feet in front of us, then one by one they pulled off the black hoods. And we were face-to-face with the enemy.