SEAL Team Six Hunt the Scorpion(34)
“As a matter of fact, she doesn’t.”
“Holy shit! You undercover?” He lowered his voice. “Is she not supposed to know?”
Crocker: “I didn’t plan to be here, and didn’t have a chance to inform her. Can you tell me where she’s located now?”
“Holly, let’s see…” He leaned back again. “Well, I assume you know she was staying at the Sheraton the night before last.”
Crocker’s blood turned cold. “No!”
“Jesus, man, I’m sorry. I should have told you first, she’s fine! She wasn’t even there at the time of the attack.”
“Thank God.”
“She and her colleague finished up early in Cairo and stopped here on their way to Tunisia. They’re due back in Libya to eyeball our consulate in Benghazi any day now. That puppy’s in pretty ragged shape.”
Crocker felt relieved. “The consulate in Benghazi?”
“Yup. Whole town had the shit kicked out of it by the colonel’s hooligans and mercenaries. The uprising started there, so when the colonel’s forces retook the city, they punished the joint. Sacked our consulate in the process. Nice touch, huh?”
Crocker had had his fill of Libyan history for one day. “When is she expected back?”
“Holly and Brian? I thought they were coming back today. Wait here. I’ll check.”
Debray returned a few minutes later with a short woman in her thirties. Dirty blond hair cut short, blue slacks, blue oxford shirt, a tattoo of a rose covering the back of her hand.
“Kat Hamilton.”
“Hi, Kat. Tom Crocker.”
She bounced from one side to another, and spoke with a Pittsburgh accent, turning “ows” into “ahs.” “Yeah, Holly’s great,” she said. “Flew to Tunisia yesterday morning. With Brian. You know Brian?”
“Brian Shaw?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
“Sure do.” Brian Shaw was a good-looking guy in State Department Security, about ten years younger than Crocker and a couple of inches taller. A former major league pitcher, he’d been going through a bad divorce. Holly was giving him advice and support.
Kat said, “Everybody talks about the friggin’ Arab Spring and how wonderful it was, and all that. They forget to mention that most of our facilities got trashed in the process. It’s gonna cost us a fortune.”
“She’s okay?”
“Holly? Oh, yeah. I spoke to her about an hour ago. She and Brian were at the Carlton Hotel drinking mint tea. They’re finishing up in Tunis today, then flying from there to Benghazi.”
“After that she’s returning here?”
“To good ol’ Tripoli, that’s right. We’ve scheduled a regional meeting here for Friday to address the regional embassy security picture, evaluate needs, draft a budget, write a report. Holly’s input will be important. Critical, you might say.”
“When exactly do you expect her back?”
“Sometime Thursday.”
“Libyan Airlines?”
“I imagine.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turned to leave and stopped. “Oh, and one other thing. Please don’t tell her I’m here. I want to surprise her.”
“Sure thing.”
Chapter Seven
Anyone who isn’t confused doesn’t really understand the situation.
—Edward R. Murrow
The guesthouse was roughly six blocks away, a relatively modest three-bedroom behind a concrete wall topped with broken glass and barbed wire. The oval pool in the backyard was covered with a blue tarp.
He found most of his team loading in supplies and cleaning the kitchen. Mancini had his head in the fridge, a plastic bucket at his feet, the floor around him covered with old food containers, muttering to himself. Seeing Crocker, he stopped. “Hey, boss,” he said. “You alright? Heard you had a difficult night.”
“I’m running on fumes. How’s the place?”
“Not half bad,” Mancini answered, “but the people staying here before us left a goddamn mess.”
From the closet Akil said, “You should have called us.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“No time. Everything happened so fast.”
“Davis told us. Heard you kicked some butt.”
Mention of the SEAL’s name jarred Crocker’s memory. “How is he?”
“Davis? Got his bell rung good. Minor concussion. Damage to one of his eardrums. Doctor says he’ll be fine.”
“Where is he?”
“In the back bedroom jerking off.”
Ritchie walked in carrying a box of groceries. “Hey, boss. Welcome back. Cal needs to talk to you when you get a chance.”