“What do you think she’ll make of this turn of events?”
“What, us going after the Prince? I can’t see Johnson backing you on this now. She will order us to stand down. That’s if we tell her about it, after we decide whether we’re going ahead with this plan.”
“What plan? We don’t have one.” Justin spread his palms, as if Carrie was expecting the plan to be resting on his hands. “And so much for Matthew talking about ‘we’ and ‘ours’ when it is only you and I actually doing something.”
“We’ll come up with a plan. If Al-Farhan is involved in this assassination plot, I’m sure he’s left behind plenty of traces. We only need to find one.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Al-Farhan is rich, filthy rich. Rich people like him don’t expect to be caught. They believe they can’t be caught. So, they’re careless. If there’s any evidence, we’ll find it.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. I mean, at the moment, we have nothing. How do we get close to the Prince? How do we get inside his private jet or his yacht?”
“We’ll figure it out.” Carrie reached for a notebook in her papers. Then, she pointed at the stacks of documents in front of them. “Shall we?”
“Before we do that, I’ve got to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
“Last night, before meeting with Abdul, I ran into an old enemy. Tarek.”
“His name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“He was a prison guard here in Tripoli… four years ago.”
“Oh, so he’s out for revenge.”
“Was… I cut his throat.”
Carrie blinked then stared at Justin’s face. There was no emotion in his voice, no glow in his eyes. He was lost somewhere in space.
“Well, it was self-defense,” Carrie said.
“Yes, the first time too.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I shot Tarek when Abdul and I escaped from prison. I thought he died at that time, but apparently I was wrong. Last night, I thought I killed him, but Abdul tells me they can’t find the body.”
“So? There can be plenty of explanations for that.”
“Carrie?”
“Yes, Justin?”
“Am I… Am I losing my mind?”
“No! Of course, not.”
“Am I seeing enemies even when there’s no one there? Ghosts from the past?”
Carrie reached for Justin’s hand. “We all have ghosts from our pasts, and time after time, they come to pay us a visit. But if you’re saying you saw Tarek and finished him, I believe you. Perhaps someone took him to a hospital. Or just got rid of the body.”
“Abdul said they couldn’t find it.”
“Have him check again. This is Libya and things tend to get a bit cloudy, especially when dealing with the mukhabarat.”
Justin swallowed hard and sighed.
“I’ll ask him, but only after we’ve figured out this other, bigger mess in our hands. And we need Abdul’s help. We need all the help we can get, and he’s proven himself a trusted ally.”
“What?” Carrie curved her voice for a dramatic effect. “You’re saying the T-word? What happened to ‘We’re in North Africa; we can’t trust anyone,’ eh?”
“That was before Johnson stabbed us in the back. And I trusted Abdul even before that. He was tortured when we were captured but gave up nothing.”
“He’s still mukhabarat!”
“Yes, but he has strong incentives to foil this plot, like we do.”
“Do we?”
“Carrie, if that’s sarcasm, you need to work on your tone.”
“No, Justin, it’s not sarcasm. I’m getting tired of this cat-and-mouse game.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
Justin leaned back in his chair and gave Carrie a strange gaze, as if he were looking at her for the first time.
“You just said we can do this. We can find the evidence that Al-Farhan is involved in this plot. Suddenly, you’re tired?”
“I’m not tired of this mission. I’m so overwhelmed with everything in my life right now.”
“You’re not thinking of changing careers, are you?” Justin asked in a low voice, afraid of her answer.
“Time’s working against me, Justin. Next year, I’ll be thirty-two. I want to have a family, a husband, children. I can’t have all that if I don’t know when or if I’ll go home at the end of the day.”
Justin stared silently at Carrie’s overcast face.
“I’ve done this for eleven years now and it takes a toll on you, your body, your mind, your soul. It’s one thing to teach students, train recruits, even work undercover. But these daily travelling, endless shootings; it’s just getting to be too much.”
“C’mon, you know it doesn’t happen all the time. Once you’re back in Ottawa, you’ll get so bored you’ll be craving field duty.”
“That may be true, but right now I feel so worn down.”
Justin locked eyes with Carrie, noticing her sad glare. “How much of this is because of Thomas?”
Carrie shrugged. “He hasn’t asked me to leave the Service.”
“No, but he has hinted at the possibility.”
“Look, just because we don’t talk twice a day like you and Anna that doesn’t mean Thomas hates my choice.” Carrie crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“Fine, no need to snap at me. I was just thinking with him being loaded, he may not want you to work at all.”
“No, it’s not like that. Everybody thinks Thomas is flush with money. But he’s not rich.”
“He drives a Mercedes CLK convertible. I beg to differ.”
“He bought that car in a … Oh, why are we even talking about this?”
“Because we care about each other. And I don’t want to see you leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Carrie made a dismissive hand gesture, though her facial expression seemed less convincing. “I’m just considering my options. Nothing wrong with that, right?”
“Yes, nothing wrong with that,” Justin replied with a light sigh. “I’ll go and get Abdul and see if Matthew actually did order our lunch. Then, we can get back to work.”
“Great idea. I’ll get a head start.” She went for one of the manila folders.
Matthew had ordered their lunch, choosing Chinese takeout. He had no news about Nour, which everyone interpreted as good news. Nour was in stable condition, and doctors were running more tests.
Over the next three hours, Justin, Carrie, and Abdul poured over the files, looking for a way to get their hands on specific details about the plot against Libya’s Prime Minister.
The first option they examined was the one Carrie suggested: organizing a raid on Prince Al-Farhan while he was in Yemen, overpowering his bodyguards and forcing a confession out of him. After that, the House of Saud could twist the Prince’s arm into aborting his plans for the Prime Minister’s assassination. Justin pointed out that Americans were unwilling to commit any ground troops or air drones to such an operation. Abdul argued they could draw on tribal militias backed by the Yemeni government, which operated in the Saada region of northern Yemen, the destination of Prince Al-Farhan. These militias hated any Saudi involvement in their internal affairs. Still, there was not enough time to organize these ragtag troops for such a sensitive mission, since the Prince was visiting the region in three days. Besides, neither Justin, nor Abdul knew anyone they could trust amongst the Yemenis. Too many things could go wrong even if they got all planning details right. Justin did not like the odds.
With Yemen out of the picture, they switched their focus to getting close to the Prince while he was travelling. It was possible to pull a few strings, intercept the itinerary of the Prince’s Boeing 707, and learn its times of arrival, layovers, and departure. However, it was another thing to plan and carry out a successful covert operation in foreign, mostly hostile countries. Syria. Jordan. Oman. Saudi Arabia. All possible stops on Prince’s trip to Yemen. Their meager resources and short time frame excluded such a mission altogether.