SEAL Team Six Hunt the Scorpion(50)
Holly and Brian Shaw had learned about the house from the man who ran the information desk at the airport. They had driven there in a cab two afternoons ago. Judging from the condition of Ali’s body, the attack had taken place in the early morning hours of the following day, approximately eighteen hours before Crocker arrived.
Shoe marks and handprints indicated that the attackers had climbed over the front wall and entered the house through an open kitchen window. They had exited out the front door. Someone had been injured, because drops of blood were spotted leading outside.
Now, sunlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains of the ambassador’s office. A quick glance at his watch showed Crocker it was almost one in the afternoon.
“Please, general, this is a priority. You must do everything in your power,” Saltzman said into the phone, “and act quickly. The last thing we want is for this to reach the press.”
The last sentence jarred Crocker’s attention. Who gives a shit about the press?
He looked up. Remington sat across from him, next to a framed photograph of the ambassador standing next to the Clintons. He was writing something on a yellow pad as the ambassador spoke.
“No. Absolutely not,” the ambassador continued. “We haven’t heard anything here. I’ll let you know as soon as we do. Remember, speed is of the utmost importance. Yes. Yes. Thanks.”
He hung up, undid the top button of his white oxford shirt, and called, “Nancy, find Leo Debray and tell him I want to see him.”
Crocker was picturing Holly—the way her long brown hair framed her face, the warmth in her brown eyes, the fullness of her lips. She was strong, but delicate inside.
Amazing woman…Grace under pressure…A beautiful, compassionate soul…
He jerked his head up when he heard his name. “Crocker? Warrant Officer Crocker?”
“Yes, sir.”
“This is a terrible situation. I wish I knew you and your wife better.”
Strange thing to say.
“Why?”
“Why?” The ambassador pulled up a chair, sat directly in front of him, and adjusted his suspenders. “Sometimes people in authority are put in a godawful position. So please excuse me for asking, is there any chance that your wife and Mr. Shaw ran off together?”
It was like a slap in the face. “Why do you ask?”
“Not that I’ve heard anything. No. I’m referring to a spur-of-the-moment decision. Maybe they realized they had some time off and chose to explore the country together.”
“Where would they go?”
“I don’t know. Misrata? Benghazi? One of the towns along the coast?”
Crocker’s throat had turned so dry that he found it difficult to speak. “Why, sir? Has someone said something?”
“No. No. Not at all. I don’t want you to think…”
“Think…what?”
“The fact is that we’ve seen very little residual violence in that area. It’s been more or less completely calm.”
Crocker felt his fists clenching. He wanted to shout something but held back. He took a breath and said, “Sir, the house was attacked. There’s no doubt about that. The caretaker was killed. My wife and Mr. Shaw left behind a good number of their personal belongings.”
“But not their suitcases, correct? Did you find their suitcases?”
This line of questioning was pissing him off. “No, I didn’t, but—”
“It makes one wonder…”
“What, sir? I found my wife’s favorite hairbrush. She takes it with her everywhere. Her grandmother gave it to her. There’s no way in…”
Remington crossed his long legs. He was clearly uncomfortable.
The ambassador rubbed his chin. “I see.”
“See what, sir?”
“I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
Crocker said, “The obvious one is that they’ve been kidnapped.”
Remington jumped in. “Let’s not rush to conclusions. Transportation and communication in this country are both problematic. It’s something we deal with on a daily basis.”
“This is clearly more than a transportation problem.”
“Jumping to conclusions doesn’t help.”
He wanted to shout “Fuck you!” But before he could, the ambassador spoke.
He said, “Crocker, I can assure you that we’ll do everything in our power. Everything. We’re currently deploying all our in-country assets, which are considerable. We’ve got on-the-ground assets; we’ve got drones we can deploy in the air. We’ll find your wife. I promise.”
“Yes, we will,” Remington echoed.
“You can count on us, dammit. I’ll stake my career on that.”