LeMay squirmed. Jarvis could see him grinding his teeth in his jaw.
‘It doesn’t matter a damn.’ LeMay replied. ‘Right now the Saudis are screaming down our diplomatic channels for the blood of the two Americans in that image, and you’re hiding them from view. Do you have any idea of the political damage that this could cause if it went public? American agents killing Saudi servicemen during the course of their duty?’
‘It would be devastating,’ Jarvis agreed. ‘Which begs the question: why did they do it? I notice that they’re running away from the camera in that image, as are the militants, so they were likely under attack from the two gunships. Why? Who ordered an attack on two American agents? Who knew they were there?’
‘The Saudi’s claim that they were rooting out militants during normal operations after an attack on a private contractor’s convoy,’ Nellis replied. ‘They only saw the Americans when they recovered the data from the crashed helicopters.’
‘Of course they would,’ Jarvis grinned without warmth. ‘But it makes no difference. Warner and Lopez will return fire if attacked, it’s what they’re trained to do. If the Saudi gunships were outclassed by a gumshoe and a retired cop, as you call them, that’s their business.’
LeMay intervened, his voice quiet but forceful enough to cut through the tension.
‘Doug, for now I think it’s best if we draw this operation to a close until something can be worked out.’
Jarvis looked at Nellis and slowly shook his head.
‘Again, on whose orders?’ Jarvis shot back. ‘Who’s calling the shots here? The FBI? What jurisdiction would they have in Saudi Arabia?’
‘Every man at this table is in basic agreement except you,’ LeMay snapped.
‘I don’t suppose this has gone up as far as the White House?’ Jarvis said, ignoring LeMay.
‘It’s not something we need to off — load onto the administration,’ Tyler pointed out.
‘Perish the thought,’ Jarvis said. ‘I wonder what would happen if I called a meeting there and told the President everything?’
‘I don’t think you’d get anywhere near the White House,’ LeMay smiled. ‘They’d turn you away as nothing more than a madman.’
‘Unless I knew the president personally,’ Jarvis murmured casually in reply. ‘Or if Ethan Warner had once saved his life, when he was still a senator. You must recall the file of Isaiah Black, general?’
Nellis raised an eyebrow.
‘We’d shut you down long before you got there,’ LeMay uttered.
Jarvis stood up from his seat and looked at the men before him. ‘You represent the most powerful nation on earth, but clearly none of you really understand why you’re even here. What makes you think that I have any respect for your authority when you’re being strong — armed and can’t even admit it?’
The men around the table stared back at Jarvis in silence.
‘Jarvis. Where are Warner and Lopez right now?’ Nellis asked.
‘Busy,’ Jarvis said as he strode for the door.
‘Busy where?’ LeMay snapped.
Nellis looked at Jarvis. ‘Doug, their whereabouts is not a big deal.’
‘Pull them out, immediately,’ Tyler added.
‘They’re dark, out of reach,’ Jarvis lied as he opened the door. ‘I’ll pull them out when they make contact, or are we intending to put their lives at risk by going in there and searching for them in plain view of potential enemies of the state?’
Jarvis saw a tremor of unease flicker like a shadow behind Nellis’s eyes.
‘Where were they last headed?’ LeMay demanded. ‘Give us that much at least, and we’ll ensure that they come to no harm and that there are no… charges threatened, if you know what I mean?’
Jarvis sighed. He knew that he had to be seen to throw the joint chiefs a bone or he could possibly be arrested himself for treason, the threat thinly veiled. If any one of the brass in the room were on the payroll of Majestic Twelve, as he suspected, it could be even worse than that. A light of inspiration flickered into life in his mind as he opened the door to exit the room.
‘They’re headed for Abu Dhabi aboard a ship named Huron. That’s all I’ll say.’
Jarvis closed the door behind him and immediately reached for his cell phone as he hurried away.
XXIV
‘Move, now!’
The convoy of four sleek white sedans supplied by the House of Saud cruised through the city streets even as the sun was glowing across the desert horizon, glinting off the tallest buildings of Abu Dhabi’s immense glassy skyline. The city looked like a gigantic steel crown encrusted with diamonds and embedded against the vast deserts.
Aaron Mitchell’s last command has just been received by the agents in the other vehicles, all of whom were now accelerating toward a ship moored in the port. Aaron could see the vessel’s form against the peculiarly vivid desert dawn, a container vessel streaked with the filth of countless voyages across the open oceans. She was stacked with cargo brought from Europe that was being unloaded by large cranes onto the dock, and was due to depart that morning for India.
The cars swept into the docks, their security access cleared in advance from the highest levels of government. Aaron watched through the tinted windows as the form of the vessel hove into view, a hive of activity before its massive hull as dock workers hurried to complete their unloading and turn the ship around for departure.
Mitchell’s sedan swung around and came to a halt behind the leading three vehicles, from which spilled armed agents who quickly contained the dock workers in confused rings, dark eyes wide with alarm as the agents corralled them near the loading cranes. Aaron waited until the area was secure and all of the captive workers had been forced to turn their backs before he opened the door of the sedan and stepped out.
The air smelled of salt, desert sand and metal as Aaron walked toward Huron’s boarding ramp, which rose from the dock up into the ship’s cavernous interior. He strode with purpose, four of his agents splitting off wordlessly from their comrades and escorting him toward the ship’s entrance.
They were almost there when a man appeared in the entrance. Broad, imposing and dark skinned, he glared at the intruders with barely concealed contempt.
‘Who the hell are you and what are you doing to my … ’
‘Captain Youssef Alem,’ Aaron rumbled as he came to stand within arm’s reach of the ship’s captain. ‘Ten thousand dollars, right here and now, if you give up the Americans aboard this ship.’
Youssef stared at Aaron for a long moment, momentarily surprised by the offer. Moments later the veil of enforced confusion fell back down across his dark features.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I will only make the offer one last time.’
Aaron remained impassive, his hands in the pockets of his dark coat despite the growing warmth radiating from the sunrise blazing across the eastern sky.
‘Ten thousand dollars does not go far,’ Youssef replied finally, a mercenary gleam in his eye. ‘Not as far as the payment I already received.’
Aaron took one pace closer to the captain, his voice quiet and yet brittle as ice.
‘Then you have earned enough for your compliance. Ten thousand more for the Americans. If you do not release them to me now, I will ensure that what remains of you will be found floating in this dock by sundown.’
Youssef’s excitement at the prospect of more money flickered out like a dying flame as he glared at Aaron.
‘You would not dare to … ’
Aaron was quick. Perhaps not as quick as he had once been in the jungles of Vietnam, but far too fast for the ship’s captain to prevent the knuckles of Aaron’s right hand from plunging into his throat in a blur of motion.