Kozak and 30K took up positions on either side of the pilot, while Pepper started toward the car, making a face over all the burning oil.
‘What is this?’ asked Takana, shifting back from Ross and finding himself blocked.
‘You’ll have your immunity. But we need to ask you some more questions.’
Behind the taxi came another vehicle, a late-model sedan with tinted windows.
‘You lied to me?’ screamed Takana.
‘No. They’re here to keep you and your family safe,’ Ross said. ‘That’s no lie.’
‘I don’t believe you!’
Standing there, watching the pilot’s face knot in anger, was for Kozak a powerful moment of déjà vu:
He thought of his cousin Sergei, of how the FBI had come to him while he was still in high school, of how they’d coerced him into eavesdropping on his cousin. Kozak had been forced to go through with it, to send Sergei to jail for running drugs with the Russian mafia in Brooklyn. It was the only way to save his mother’s business, which the Feds had threatened to close. How can you do something like that to your own blood? he’d asked himself. It made him feel dirty, as though he were as bad as his cousin — only he didn’t have that killer instinct. He’d been a coward hiding behind wires and a weak will.
‘It was you!’ Sergei had cried. ‘I know it! It was you!’
Kozak had wanted to say, ‘Yeah, it was me — because I’m saving you from yourself.’
But he had just stood there in the kitchen of his mother’s restaurant, watching as the agents dragged Sergei through the back door while his mother wailed. A pot on the stove boiled over, the water hissing loudly, the pierogies getting overcooked. Kozak had turned and couldn’t take his eyes off all that steam.
With a heavy heart, Kozak leaned in toward Takana. ‘Hey, bro. Don’t worry about a thing. It’ll be okay.’
Takana turned, eyes narrowed in anger. ‘No, it won’t.’
‘Don’t waste your time,’ said 30K. ‘He made his bed.’
Kozak tightened his lips and sighed. It was just sad. They didn’t know what had driven Takana to this moment. No opportunities at home? The burdens of trying to provide for a family? Maybe he was being blackmailed or threatened by Hamid himself? 30K would say he was just a greedy bastard like the rest of them, but Kozak sensed there was something deeper here, something more painful. But no matter the motive, Takana was a proud man who would never admit his weaknesses.
‘Come on, bro, let’s go,’ said 30K. ‘Don’t blow another second thinking about this scumbag.’
Kozak wished it were that easy, that he could be that cold. Other times he’d look at 30K and hate what he saw: a dark vacuum in the man’s eyes that allowed him to operate without feeling, passion, or judgment.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Prior to becoming a Ghost, Alicia Diaz had won the Service Rifle category of the National Long Range Rifle Championship at Camp Perry, Ohio, for two years running. Her record on the Ghost’s shooting range for longest bull’s-eye still held, and her reputation and exploits on missions in China and elsewhere with then Captain Scott Mitchell had been analysed and discussed for years after by men like Pepper, 30K and Kozak. Why Ross hadn’t told the team that she, a legendary Ghost now retired, would be getting out of that sedan was a mystery. Maybe the captain didn’t know? Or maybe he didn’t consider that information important?
Pepper sure did.
He couldn’t wait to shake Diaz’s hand, hoping some of her marksmanship would rub off and that she’d offer a tip or two. Share a secret. Let him buy her a drink.
A man must have his dreams.
After leaving the Army, Diaz had taken a position as a paramilitary operations officer with the CIA’s Special Activities Division. She engaged in covert intelligence gathering with people like herself, former Special Forces operators from all branches of the service. Given the team’s most recent ‘encounters’ with her agency, Diaz’s presence was long overdue. Pepper hoped she could shed some light on Delgado’s position, motives and whereabouts, and restore their faith in an agency whose unwillingness to cooperate seemed to be undermining national security (in Pepper’s humble opinion).
Admittedly a little starstruck, Pepper shifted past Ross and was the first to greet the former Ghost. ‘Hello, ma’am. I’m Master Sergeant Robert Bonifacio, but they call me Pepper. I don’t want to sound cheesy, but this is a real honor.’
Diaz had remained fit, only a streak of gray near one temple betraying her age, the rest of her jet-black hair pulled into a ponytail. She could star in a Nike commercial. She looked part embarrassed, part flattered by his comment. ‘Nice to meet you, Pepper.’
‘Let me introduce you to the team. This is Kozak, 30K, and that’s our Ghost lead, Captain Andrew Ross, who used to be a command master chief SEAL. How do you like that?’
Kozak and 30K gave Diaz awkward nods while, behind her, two men dressed business casual and easily mistaken for locals came forward to stand near Takana.
Ross shook Diaz’s hand and said, ‘Ms Diaz, your reputation obviously precedes you.’
‘Thank you, Captain. I’ve had a chance to work with a few of your colleagues, real first-class operators.’
‘I’m sure they are. Now would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?’
Diaz’s grin evaporated, and Pepper, too, was taken aback by Ross’s tone. Pepper wanted to say something, but he’d catch hell for it later.
‘Captain, I understand your frustration.’
‘No, ma’am, you don’t. If I’m going to put my people in harm’s way, I want to know why. If we’re here to clean up your mess, then at least have the decency to admit it.’
‘I promise you, we’ll talk. Right now we’ll take Takana off your hands. Your team rides in the taxi. We’ll begin tracking the arms.’
‘I’m sorry, ma’am, but you didn’t answer my question.’
Diaz moved up to Ross and lowered her voice. ‘Look, as one old Ghost to another, don’t ask that question.’
‘The major told me you’d be an ally.’
‘Langley doesn’t even know I’m here. I owe your boss a few favors. Now, if you and your team will get in my car, we can talk and monitor the shipment at the same time, instead of standing here, choking our chains.’ Diaz whirled and headed back toward her car.
Diaz’s men escorted Takana over to the taxi cab.
Ross jogged over to the taxi to intercept them, and Pepper couldn’t hear that exchange. He headed over to Diaz, who turned back and said, ‘I used to envy your job. Then I had it. Now I’m glad I’m out.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Long story.’
‘Over beers tonight?’
She sighed then looked away. ‘If you’re still here.’
Pepper felt his cheeks warm.
Ross returned and said, ‘Everybody? Let’s roll.’ He faced Pepper. ‘What?’ Then he looked to Diaz. ‘We good?’
‘Yes, Captain. We’re fine.’
Just before they got in the car, Kozak leaned in to Pepper and whispered, ‘I think you got a shot with her. Pun intended, ha-ha.’
‘Shut up, asshole.’
Diaz promised that Takana would be transferred to one of the Agency’s private jets and flown down to Mogadishu’s Aden Adde International Airport. At a facility near there, the CIA ran a counter-terrorism training program for Somali intelligence agents and operatives. The program was aimed at building an indigenous strike force capable of snatch operations and targeted ‘combat’ operations against Islamic militant groups like Bedayat jadeda. When she wasn’t out in the field, Diaz taught classes there.