The Panther

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN


I drove fast, but not so fast as to attract the attention of the Predator pilot whose job it was to watch the immediate vicinity of the Crow Fortress. But even if he saw us as we approached the fortress, all he’d see was the Bedouin Land Cruiser from the rock pile, so no reason to call Chet.

As for Chet and Buck, both their monitors would now be tuned in to the two Predators flying above the goat herder’s hut. One of their screens would have been split to direct another Predator to follow the suspected target in the Land Cruiser—us—and Chet had just given the order to destroy the target. I wonder if Chet had a lump in his throat when he saw his teammates getting blown up.

We were now a few hundred meters from the Crow Fortress, and as I’d noticed since we’d been here, the Bedouin rarely posted a lookout on the walls of the courtyard—guard duty was the job of the Amriki in the tower—and I didn’t see anyone as I looked at the wall in front of us.

When I got within fifty meters of the fortress, I retraced my route to come around to the gate on the east side.

Brenner asked, “Do we have a plan?”

I replied, “There is no plan possible for this situation. Sometimes you just have to shoot from the hip.” Literally.

Zamo suggested, “They need to die for what they did.”

Good plan.

Brenner reminded Zamo and all of us, “I give the order to fire—but you can fire if fired upon.”

Or if I feel like emptying a full magazine into those two bastards. But first we had to make sure that Chet had completed his mission and killed The Panther.

I pulled up near the gate, which was closed, and I turned the vehicle around, pointing it toward the edge of the plateau that we’d driven up on the night we landed in this shithole. I kept the engine running, and we all got out quickly, leaving the doors open.

Kate pulled off her balto for better mobility and access to her spare magazines, and Brenner said, “Rock and roll,” meaning move your selector switches to full automatic.

I insisted on going in first and alone, and I lifted the latch handle, swung the gate in, and slipped into the courtyard.

The Bedouin were still where we’d left them, sitting along the shade of the west wall, chatting and chewing. I noticed also that all the vehicles were still there, so Chet and Buck had not yet left here to drive to the scene of the attack, meaning it hadn’t happened yet. I checked my watch: 6:15 P.M., so apparently The Panther was late—or he wasn’t showing up at all.

The Bedouin noticed me, but none of them looked surprised, though a few of them seemed to be discussing my return.

The doors of the van with the Predator monitors were closed, and the engine wasn’t running, but I could hear the hum of the gasoline-powered generator.

I motioned to Kate, Brenner, and Zamo to come in, and I said, “Act normal,” which meant walking casually across the courtyard to the van. The Bedouin were looking at us, and maybe they were unhappy that Kate was dressed like a man.

We stopped at the closed doors of Moses’ Red Sea fish van and I saw that the padlock was not there, meaning someone was inside, which I expected. Hopefully it was both of them.

Well, I didn’t want to interrupt Chet while he was in his stealthy assassination mode, but we couldn’t stand here smiling at the Bedouin.

Brenner nodded toward the door and whispered, “Let’s go.”

Right. Chet and Buck would be unhappily surprised to see us, but they had a job to do and they’d do it, and then we could discuss other matters.

I leveled my M4 as Brenner and Zamo swung both doors open, and I jumped into the van.

Unfortunately, no one was there.

Brenner and Kate came into the van, and Zamo stayed outside to keep an eye on the Bedouin.

Kate asked, “Where are they?”

Definitely not here. But the consoles were fully lit and the monitors were both on, as though they’d just stepped out for a minute.

We moved to the front of the van and looked at the screens. The left-hand screen—Chet’s screen—showed the close view of the goat herder’s hut, and the right screen had a split view, a higher and wider shot of the area around the hut, and another high shot showing a white SUV traveling on a dirt road.

As we watched, an electronic crosshair came onto the split screen over the SUV, and a few seconds later the white SUV was gone, replaced by a bright orange flash, followed by swirling black smoke and debris. A message came on the screen that said, “Target engaged.”

Then I saw another, smaller message in the left-hand corner of the screen that said, “Replay.” Then the original image appeared again and our SUV with the blood mark on the roof and Emad driving was vaporized again by the Hellfire missile. Ouch.

Brenner said, “Those bastards.”

Kate said, “Look.”

We focused on Chet’s screen, which was also on replay, and watched silently as Sheik Musa, surrounded by about half of his fifteen men, walked from left to right toward another group of men who were moving from right to left.

Both groups stopped in the middle of the carpet, and after a hesitation, Sheik Musa took the hand of The Panther and kissed it. The Panther then did the same to Sheik Musa.

I don’t know if they embraced or not, because the crosshair on the screen brightened, then an electronic message flashed “Fire,” and the screen brightened again in an orange glow, followed by black swirling debris, then smoke and fire. The words “Target engaged” flashed on the screen.

Everyone, I was sure, including Sheik Musa and all the men around him, were dead or mortally wounded. Same for Mr. Bulus ibn al-Darwish—The Panther was dead.

I said, “Mission accomplished.”

Brenner said, “Chet killed the sheik, too.”

Kate pointed to the electronic clock counter and said, “At six-ten… seven minutes ago.”

Right. And these images had been broadcast to people in Washington—to the mission planners in Langley, and maybe even to the White House. And everyone was celebrating. The Panther was dead. Congratulations, Chet and Buck. And then Chet and Buck left the van. But where did they go? Maybe to gather some things in the diwan, then they’d jump in an SUV and get out of here.

I looked at Buck’s screen and I saw the replay again, but from a higher and wider perspective, which showed all the vehicles that had arrived—Bedouin and Al Qaeda—parked away from the hut. Two more Hellfires hit almost simultaneously, blowing up the two groups of men and vehicles. The secondary explosions of the fuel tanks sent fiery wreckage and burning gasoline into the air. A third Hellfire hit the roof of the goat herder’s hut, just in case anyone was inside, and the stone walls of the hut collapsed.

Kate asked again, “Where are Chet and Buck?”

I didn’t know, but I knew that they got out of here quickly, in case there were any Bedouin survivors at the scene of the attack who would call the Bedouin here saying that the Americans had killed their sheik. But where did our teammates go? I pointed out, “All the vehicles are here.”

Kate concluded, “So they have to be in the tower.”

“Maybe… but we need to get out of here in case the Bedouin here get those calls…” And then I remembered how Chet was going to get rid of this million-dollar van and I said, “The Predator over the Crow Fortress is about to vaporize this van.”

We quickly exited the target, but we didn’t want to spook the Bedouin so we didn’t run. Brenner turned toward the gate, but I grabbed his arm and said, “We need to see if Chet and Buck are in the tower.”

He hesitated for half a second, then nodded, and we began walking quickly toward the tower. Indeed, hate and revenge cloud your judgment. We should have been in the Land Cruiser now, tear-assing down the ravine to get away from here. But first we needed to settle up with our two teammates.