Cliff said, “I think he’s talking about you and him.”
The young Syrian looked back to Court like he couldn’t believe the American was serious.
Court looked down at the area on the photo, checked the scale, and then touched a building on the far eastern side of the city. It was the only building of any size in the area; the next group of large structures was three blocks west.
“This building here looks like it’s about a mile and a half from the center of the camp, assuming it’s where I think it is. Farther to the runway.” He looked up at the others in the room. “I want to go to this building.”
The Terp puffed his chest out a little. “I am a proud fighter of Usud al-Sharqiya.”
Court looked at Robby. “What’s that?”
Robby said, “Lions of the East Army. It’s the name of his militia.”
“I thought he was FSA.”
“Slick, there are thirty different groups that make up FSA that I know of.”
Court addressed the young man again. “Okay, you are Lions of the East. What’s your point?”
“My point is that I have no fear. I will go with you, Mr. Slick.”
Court nodded at the young man. “I appreciate it.”
Cliff spoke to Court now. “I can gear you up, unless you were looking for a cold beer or a bottle of scotch.”
Court shook his head. “You got an M107?” He was speaking of the Barrett M107 anti-matériel sniper rifle.
Cliff shook his head. “Negative. But we have a TAC-50. The FSA has one, as well.” The McMillan TAC-50 was another fifty-cal sniper rifle.
“How pissed will the FSA sniper be to give his up?”
Robby said, “My command says to get you whatever you want, but no U.S. forces are to accompany you when you leave my base. I’ll get you that rifle, and I’ll straighten it out with the FSA.”
“Good. Other than the sniper rifle, I need an AK with a folding stock, a pistol, a technical, and some water. Fuel to get me fifty klicks.”
The Terp shook his head. “Others will want to come.”
“We have to keep this small-scale. If we’re detected, either we’ll be killed before Azzam comes, or they’ll cancel his visit.”
“If we are bringing a truck anyway, it doesn’t matter if we are two men or six men.”
“You have anyone in mind who might tag along?”
The Terp looked to Robby. “Yusuf and Khadir. Plus a driver and a man to protect the driver.”
Robby said, “Yusuf and Khadir are the Carl Gustaf team.”
Court knew a little about the Carl Gustaf recoil-less rifle, but not much. He did know that it was an 84-millimeter weapon that fired an array of standard and rocket-boosted munitions. “Trained by you guys?”
“Yep. U.S. Army ordnance, given to the FSA along with training. Those two guys are as accurate as you’ll get in all the FSA. They’ve been together for years as an RPG team. We outfitted them with the Carl and now they are rock stars around here. If you need a piece of armor hit at up to four hundred yards, Yusuf and Khadir are the ones to do it for you.”
“Sure,” Court said. “That might just come in handy.”
CHAPTER 67
Two Mercedes Viano vans, each carrying a driver and six passengers, arrived in Athens, Greece, in midafternoon. They parked in a lot near the Port of Piraeus, and then Malik, Drexler, Sauvage, Medina, and three of Malik’s men walked along Kastoros Street, while the rest of the GIS men did their best to melt into the neighborhood without being noticed.
Soon Drexler and his entourage turned into the doorway of an office building by the water, and they climbed three sets of stairs to a large office space overlooking the yachts in the marina.
The sign on the door read “Hellenic Carriers of Ocean Freight, Inc.”
It appeared to be a working office, but a key had been left under a mat for Malik, and when they all entered through the door, the lights were off and no one was inside.
Malik turned to Bianca after flipping on the lights. “Mademoiselle Medina, there are a few cubicles in the corners with some privacy, and there is a large corner office that is at your disposal if you would like to rest. I am sorry this is not more comfortable for you, but this office is owned by my department, and it is the closest and safest place near the marina. We will stay here until the boat from Syria arrives, early tomorrow morning.”
“It is fine, of course. Shukran,” she said.
Bianca sat down in an office chair and idly looked over some brochures, reading about the services of the freight forwarding company written in French. Malik saw her interest and said, “This is a front of ours. We use this place to help get weapons and supplies into Syria past the embargos. I don’t think the war would be going nearly so well for us without this office, and others like it in Italy and Croatia.”
Drexler had been standing by the window looking down on the neighborhood below. Soon he asked Malik to join him there.
The Swiss operative said, “You can’t keep all your men here. They will stick out like sore thumbs.”
“It is my job to protect Medina until she gets on that boat tomorrow.”
“And you will have failed if someone calls the local police to tell them ten Arab men wearing jackets are standing on the hot streets at a port in southern Greece. Think, Malik. Medina can only be hidden here for the next twelve hours if we remain low profile.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting you send all your men home. Between you, me, and Sauvage we can watch her. When the skiff from the ship lands tomorrow there will be more GIS men to protect her all the way to Syria.”
Malik looked down at the port, then shook his head. “Not all of them. I’ll send some home, but I’ll keep my top three men here with me.”
Drexler nodded. “Thank you.”
Malik turned to him. “The policeman. You haven’t armed him, have you?”
“Armed him? If I armed him, the first person he’d shoot would be me.” Drexler smiled now. “Don’t worry about him. He’s my problem, and I’ll take care of him.”
And this was true. Drexler was not worried about Sauvage. Now he was only worried about the four men between himself and Medina. Malik and his three men. He’d managed to thin the herd by talking the Syrian operative into releasing most of his force here, but the four who were staying, Malik included, would be the best of the best.
He knew he could kill four men in most circumstances, but these were no ordinary men. Certainly he would be killed if he tried. He told himself he was just missing one piece to the puzzle, and then he would make his play.
Drexler and Malik left the office to go down to the marina to make arrangements for the boat to dock the following morning, so Sauvage, Medina, and the three Syrian GIS men remained in the large office space. Bianca and Sauvage sat across from each other at different desks, both with a view out the window to the port, and then beyond to the Aegean Sea.
The three security men took up watches in different parts of the sprawling office, leaving Sauvage and Medina effectively alone together.
Bianca recognized this as an opportunity, and after several minutes to ensure no one was close enough to listen in, she looked over to the French police officer. “I’ve been sitting with you in a van for over a day, and you’ve barely said a word.”
Sauvage seemed surprised that the woman spoke to him at all. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. “I don’t have much to say.”
“How do you fit into all this?”
Again Sauvage shuffled in discomfort. “I’m just happy you have been rescued, madame.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No? Well then . . . if you must know the truth, just as you were a captive in Paris, I am a captive now. Drexler has involved me in all this, and I came along unknowingly, until it reached a point when I could no longer walk away.”
Bianca said, “I am sorry.”