“You need to control your temper,” Gordon snapped. “I’m trying to offer you a job!”
“Don’t fuck with me, Gordon. I’ve seen full well what your jobs involve! And I’m sick of this shit!”
Tailor stepped between me and Gordon, trying to calm me down. I don’t know if it was fatigue, stress, or a combination of the two, but I was on the verge of blowing up completely. My heart was pounding in my chest. I was so mad I was almost shaking.
“Fine!” Gordon said, gesturing sharply with his hands. “I’m trying to do you a favor. If this is how you want it, forget it. Mr. Anders warned me about this. He told me that when things start to get tough and you lose a couple guys, you fall apart. I didn’t believe it. I’ve seen your record. But you know what? He’s right. You can’t handle it, Valentine. You’re not cut out for this. This was a mistake. I need solid, dependable men. I don’t need guys that turn to mush when we take a few casualties. Shit happens. People die. That’s the way it is.”
Something clicked just then. I stepped back and straightened myself out. My eyes narrowed. My face went blank. Tailor saw the expression on my face. His eyes went wide, and he turned to Gordon.
“Listen, you wanna leave now,” he said. “Val had a bad night. Bad timing, you know?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Gordon said. “Forget the whole thing. You two want to go down with this ship, you’re more than welcome. We can always get more. You know how many people there are like you out there? Half burned-out shooters, desperate for their glory days and the old run-and-gun, who jump at any offer we give them? They’re all so eager, and they don’t ask a lot of questions. You, for example.”
“Gordon, I’m warning you,” Tailor said.
“I’m not afraid of you, Valentine,” Gordon said, looking at me over Tailor’s shoulder. He gestured to the pistol under his arm. “I’m not some paper-pushing desk jockey, you know.”
“Gordon, there’s no way you’re going to get that gun out before Val blows a hole in your chest. Everybody just calm down now!”
“I’m perfectly calm,” I stated. “I’m not angry at you because my friends died. We knew the risks when we signed up. I’m angry because my friends died as a direct result of your incompetence and blatant disregard for our lives. So I’m going to have to decline your offer.” I turned around and walked away, but paused at the door. “Gordon, if I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.” I turned and left the room.
Chapter 17:
The Coup
LORENZO
May 10
The news was grim. There had been an explosion at the palace. The emir was dead. Until further notice, a curfew was in effect at eight o’clock every evening. The radio’s volume had been turned up, and the crowd of foreign workers, mostly Pakistani and Sri Lankan, gathered at the café were all listening carefully, many of them surely wondering just how bad it was going to get, but too poor to leave their relatively good-paying jobs to fly home. The news report ended on the high note that the heroic General Sabah had personally assured the destruction of the Zionist backed criminals, and all the workers went back to their cheap food.
“Tomorrow’s the big day. Are you nervous?” Jill asked.
“Of course not,” I lied. “I eat commando death squads for breakfast.”
The two of us were not that far from our apartment. Tired of waiting for the Fat Man, and feeling the need to keep busy, we had continued our search for Dead Six. It had been just as fruitless as before. Zubara was a big city, and nobody we talked to recognized the Americans of Dead Six. I don’t know where they bought their food, or who did their laundry, and apparently none of them had ever taken a taxi, and it was really pissing me off.
Jill Del Toro’s education was coming along. She’d been my shadow for the last few days. She no longer walked like an American in public, and I was pretty sure I’d gotten her to the point that she was street-smart enough to not just get randomly murdered on her own. Today she was playing a relatively convincing imported Filipina. I’d helped her with her makeup so she’d look more forgettable. She looked like a cleaning lady and I looked like I should be unclogging drains.
It turned out that both of us were fluent in Spanish. Jill’s paternal grandparents had been Mexican immigrants, and her dad had met and married her mom while stationed in Subic Bay. So we could converse freely here, as hardly anybody except for the occasional Filipino or European spoke Spanish in the Zoob and it didn’t stick out in public like English did.
She’d come along pretty well. If she had the inclination, I thought she could actually have a future as a criminal. She was certainly a good liar. “I’m not worried, either,” Jill said with confidence.
The last few days had been kind of awkward. Neither one of us talked about what had happened between us, which was good, I think, because that would have just needlessly complicated things. I had to keep my mind on business. “There’s something important I need to talk to you about.”
“Yes?” Jill responded quickly.
“It’s about tomorrow’s job,” I said.
“Oh.” She went back to her food, stabbing an olive with her fork.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen. This could be something simple and I can just walk right in and grab the box, or it could be crazy. I just don’t know. We’re going to have to come up with a plan on the fly. So I might need your help, I might not.”
“I’m ready. Dead Six ruined my life, Lorenzo. I’ll do whatever I have to do. I already showed you I’m willing to shoot them. What more do you need me to prove?”
I smiled. She was aggressive. “That’s not what I meant. Tomorrow, we either succeed or fail. After that, it’s on to Phase Three, and that’s my problem, not yours.”
“When will you tell me what that even is?”
“You really don’t want to know. Let’s just say that it’s stupid and dangerous. But that’s not what I’m talking about. What I’m trying to say is that after tomorrow, you’re done.”
She looked up from her lunch. “What do you mean?”
“I told you that if you helped me, I’d help you. I’ve had Reaper working on fake papers for you. I’ve got contacts I can refer you through. Basically, after tomorrow, you can go back to the US if you want.” I would need to walk her through all the details of setting up a new life, but she didn’t belong here, in this disintegrating shit hole, not anymore.
“Home?” Jill seemed shocked. Not upset, just surprised. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“We’ll worry about tomorrow first.” I noticed some blue uniforms coming down the street. The security forces were randomly rousting people off the streets for questioning. It would be best to avoid that. I pulled out my wallet and threw down some riyals. “We’ll talk about it later.”
VALENTINE
Fort Saradia National Historical Site
May 10
1400
Following Sarah, I stepped out into the harsh desert heat. We made our way down the stairs of the dorm, followed by everyone else who’d been inside. Sarah and Anita had gone around banging on doors, telling everyone to follow them to the chow hall. She’d come to my room last.