by Oliver Tidy
‘He made a run for it. He made a mistake. He didn’t get ten yards before his own side killed him.’
‘Good to have you back, buddy,’ said Tanner.
‘Good to be back. Thanks, Tanner. We owe you.’
‘Let’s call it quits. You saved our ass in London, we save yours in Syria. Come on. Let’s get out of here.’
He scrambled to his feet, picked up the box and they hurried away to relative safety.
***
47
They retraced their steps of the early morning back through the rubble-strewn alleyways, past the same devastation and desolation. Nothing had changed. It was a broken neighbourhood to mirror the broken neighbourhood the other side of the river. So much destruction.
When they were well away from the front line, Acer sidled up to Zeynep in the middle of their slow-moving column. She had her head down, watching where she was going, picking her way through the debris. He nudged her and she nearly lost her footing. He said, ‘We made it, Zeynep. We got what we came for. No one got hurt. We’re going home to get our lives and our families back.’
She dragged her attention away from the ground and looked up at him. He could see she was smiling. But her eyes were too wet.
He said, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I feel bad for the boy soldier.’
‘Yeah. Me, too. He probably didn’t want to be mixed up in a civil war. Kids his age should be out with friends having fun not having their lives ruined and their minds corrupted by armed conflict.’
She said, ‘Sorry. You’re right: we got back in one piece. Thank you. Thank you.’
‘We did it. Now we just have to use what we’ve got to get what we want.’
‘At least now we have that chance.’
‘Do you think your brother will deal?’
She nodded. ‘He’s a cruel, callous man, but he’s not stupid. He’ll deal. He stands to lose too much if he doesn’t. But we will need to be careful of him and how we go about things.’
‘That’s all I need to hear. God, I could do with a cup of coffee.’
*
In the thick dark, it took them longer to navigate their way back to the makeshift barracks and their transportation out of Aleppo than it had to get to their crossing point in the morning. They entered the compound in the small hours. The place was quiet. Armed men who could have been the same men as in the morning stood smoking in small groups around the same burning oil drums.
Tanner said, ‘Sadat will want to speak with you.’
Acer said, ‘Fair enough. Let me put this in the Jeep first. I don’t want to give him a reason to delay us.’
Tanner said, ‘We’ll see if we can get you some dry clothes. You’re gonna make my car all wet.’
Zeynep asked for trousers.
Tanner said he’d see what he could do. He asked Dempsey to go hunt out anything dry that would fit. He also told him to take a few more cartons of cigarettes with him for the trade.
After putting the box in the boot of the vehicle, Tanner and Acer crossed back to the industrial building that served as Colonel Sadat’s base of operations.
Tanner said, ‘Did you bring him any good news?’
‘What would he consider good news?’
‘Assad’s head on a plate.’
‘No, then. Should I make something up?’
Tanner snorted, ‘Better not. Our lies will always find us out. Be straight with him. He’d appreciate that more than you trying to please him. Hey, you bring my Sig back?’
‘It’s in the box.’
‘Use it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’
The barracks had the same stale smell about it. Acer and Tanner were ushered along to Colonel Sadat’s office. He was in the same chair in the same clothes. He might have been studying the same paperwork. And he was still smoking.
He looked up with some apparent interest. ‘You made it back.’ He nodded slowly in Acer’s direction. It seemed like a compliment. ‘You got to the university?’
‘Yes.’
‘Congratulations, then. And was your little mission a success?’
‘I learned some things that might help me with my issues in Turkey.’
Sadat nodded again. He said, ‘How are they? Over there.’
‘Physically in better shape than here. But that’s understandable. They’ve got all the big hardware, after all.’
Sadat scowled. It seemed to be at the truth of the bad news rather than the bearer of it. ‘Did you encounter troops?’
‘Only very small groups. Search parties. We saw no large numbers of anything other than destroyed buildings. But we stayed on the back streets. Just because I didn’t see anything doesn’t mean it’s not there.’
Sadat waved that away. Then with something approaching a leer, he said, ‘And did you have any trouble?’
‘Some. Nothing that couldn’t be handled.’
‘Kill anyone?’
‘Sorry, no. Nothing like that.’
Sadat grunted and turned back to his paperwork. He looked disappointed. It felt like a dismissal.
Acer said, ‘Tanner says you organised the diversionary shelling to help us back. Thank you.’
‘It was going to happen anyway. Goodbye, gentlemen. Don’t leave it too long till we see you again, Tanner. Good cigarettes are getting harder and harder to find in this place.’
Tanner indicated with his eyes that they should leave. As they walked back across the compound towards the vehicles, he said, ‘He likes you.’
‘Really? What gives you that impression?’
‘You’re still alive.’ Tanner laughed all the way back to the Jeep.
Dempsey had done his best, he said. At least the clothes fitted Acer and were dry. But they might have smelt worse than the ones he took off and dumped.
The Jeep was not the most comfortable vehicle Acer had ever been in, but it felt like it when he lowered himself into the front seat. Zeynep was already asleep on the back seat, stretched out with her legs bent just a little. Her new trousers looked great – if she was heading off to do a children’s party as a clown.
Before they started for home, Tanner rang Carswell and brought him up to date on their situation. Carswell asked to speak with Acer.
Carswell said, ‘Firstly, congratulations to both of you for making it there and back in one piece.’
Acer said, ‘We’ve got Tanner and the team to thank for that. Without them we’d both be crow food on the banks of the River Queiq.’
Carswell said, ‘And was your mission successful? Did you find her?’
‘She’s dead. But we met with her father.’
‘And? Was he able to help you?’
‘He had a box full of documents we can use and he let us have it. Zeynep says it’s dynamite.’
‘That’s good. Well, I’ll see you when you get back. Safe journey.’
Acer and Tanner spoke in low voices about their different days. Between fire-fights, Tanner had spent his by turns curled up asleep on a sofa he’d found in a deserted apartment while Reyna and Dempsey took lookout duty, and then replacing each of them for a few hours. They agreed that it wasn’t exactly the stuff of regular jobs, but then who wanted a regular job.
For professional and personal reasons, Tanner was more interested to know in greater detail about Acer’s day. Acer was candid and detailed with his explanation. One, he liked the American and he thought he at least owed him some company, some interaction and honesty; and two, it helped him to pass the time as they bumped their way over terrain he doubted he’d be able to sleep through.
They moved on to talking about how each of them had come to be where they were in the world and life. Again, Tanner was a lot more interested in hearing about Acer – the American embassy incident was something he particularly wanted to hear about – than he was in talking about himself. Acer assumed it was an intelligence services thing. Seeing as he didn’t consider himself part of that subsection of society, A
cer was comfortable enough to talk about himself.
***
Day 6
48
It came as a surprise to Acer to realise that Tanner was shaking him awake. Despite years of military service and the sleeping places he’d had to make do with in those times, he was not expecting to manage a minute of sleep in Tanner’s Jeep, bumping across the harsh, unforgiving and undulating Syrian terrain.
Acer said, ‘I slept.’
‘Like a baby. Can’t say I blame you. It must have been an exhausting day.’
It was a shade lighter than dawn when they arrived back at the CIA’s outpost in southern Turkey. They’d suffered a delay of a couple of hours. A rebel section that they had come across had claimed ISIL insurgents had been sighted up ahead. After the wait, nothing came of it. But all agreed it was better to be safe than sorry.
Acer stretched and yawned. Tanner was already out of the vehicle and walking towards where Dempsey and Reyna were getting out of theirs in front. Carswell’s car was there. Carswell appeared at the front door of the building, spilling a little light out. Dempsey, Reyna and Tanner headed towards the warmth, some coffee and their beds.
Acer turned to shake Zeynep awake. A burst of machine gun fire snapped his head back around. Tanner, Reyna and Dempsey lay in the dirt. Tanner’s legs were thrashing, kicking up dust. Acer looked to Carswell. He was on his feet with a weapon in his hand. And then he was running quickly to cover the dozen metres that separated the vehicles from the house. He had the weapon raised and jammed into his shoulder and pointed at Acer.
Carswell stopped short of the Jeep, facing Acer’s door. He said, ‘Hands where I can see them and get out.’
Acer kept his hands visible. He didn’t move. Through the closed window, he said, ‘I can’t open the door and keep both hands in sight.’
‘Just one then. Slow.’
Acer opened the door and stepped out, keeping his hands at shoulder height.
Carswell said, ‘Where’s Zeynep?’
‘Asleep on the back seat.’
‘Wake her. Get her out.’
‘What’s going on, Carswell?’
‘Just do it. We can talk when I can see you both.’
Acer moved very carefully. He opened the back door and woke Zeynep. She came around slowly. Acer helped her out of the back without a word.
She took one look at Carswell and said, ‘What’s going on?’ Her eyes strayed to where the three men lay in the dirt outside the building.
Carswell said, ‘Either of you got a weapon?’
Acer said, ‘No.’
Zeynep said, ‘Where’s Mo?’
Carswell said, ‘Inside. She’s fine.’
Zeynep said, ‘I want to talk to her.’
‘You will. We have a security problem. Not that I don’t trust you, Acer, but I’m going to have to satisfy myself neither of you is armed. I need you both to strip. Down to your underwear will be fine.’
Zeynep began to protest, but Acer said, ‘Just do it, Zeynep.’ He knew Carswell had just murdered three members of his team. Zeynep didn’t. He believed that Donovan and Mo were both dead.
Acer began to slowly remove his clothes. Boots first, trousers, then shirt. Zeynep followed his lead. As she was undressing, she said, ‘Will someone tell me what’s going on?’
‘We have a security situation,’ repeated Carswell. ‘Cooperate and no one else need get hurt.’
Zeynep said, ‘You shot them. But why? Why?’
Convinced that neither of them had a weapon, Carswell lowered his rifle from his shoulder but kept it pointing in their direction from the hip.
‘Truth be told, it wasn’t me got those boys killed. It was you.’
Acer said, ‘What are you talking about?’
Zeynep said, ‘Mo isn’t safe is she? Mo’s dead. So is Donovan.’
Carswell renewed his grip on his gun, as though he expected Zeynep to charge him. Acer grabbed hold of her arm, fearing the same.
Acer said, ‘Why? What do you mean it was us that got them killed?’
‘Two words. Deep state. That’s a can of worms you should never have gone near.’
‘Who told you about deep state?’
‘Mo. She told me why you’d gone to Syria. And you told me you’d got what you’d gone for. Dynamite, you said. That means you got documentary evidence regarding deep state that could prove harmful to certain interests I represent.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Acer. ‘This is a money thing? You’re another corrupt official?’
‘No. Well not directly, anyway. Might turn out it’s a profitable acquisition. One way or another, if you get my drift. Where is it?’
‘In a cardboard box. In the boot.’
‘Everything? All of it?’
‘Everything is in the box. I can get it for you.’
Acer started to walk towards the back of the Jeep.
Carswell said, ‘Stop.’
Acer stopped and turned to face him.
Carswell said, ‘She gets it. Let’s all move nice and easy round the back of the vehicle.’
They did that. Carswell kept his distance and his automatic weapon trained on them. He said, ‘Open it.’
Zeynep released the catch. The boot popped open and rose up with a gentle whine of its gas struts. The cardboard box sat in the middle of the boot, which was otherwise clear.
Carswell said, ‘Lift it out. Let’s have a look.’
Zeynep turned her back on Carswell and leaned over the box to lift it out. Acer was watching her from the corner of his eye. He saw tears run down her cheeks to splash on the top of the box. He noticed her hesitate a moment as she saw into the little opening where the four sides didn’t quite meet. He felt that she almost looked at him. She collected the box up in her arms and turned around to face Carswell.
He smiled at her and said, ‘Good. I suppose it’s all in Turkish, right?’
More tears rolled freely down Zeynep’s face. Acer did not think she was crying for herself.
She said, ‘Yes.’ Her voice was neutral, empty, devoid of feeling.
Carswell made a noise like that could be an immediate problem for him. ‘I might need a little help. With some translation. You feel up to that, Zeynep? Or do I need to encourage you with a bullet through one of your feet?’
‘She’ll do it,’ said Acer.
Carswell said, ‘My Turkish conversation is passable. How about I have a little look through these here documents. If I need help understanding something, you give it. You refuse, I shoot Acer somewhere that won’t kill him. I can do that a few times before he actually dies. Then I can start on you.’
Acer said, ‘Are you – you the CIA – connected to deep state? Is that what this is about? Protecting your own interests? Because the CIA was involved from the beginning, wasn’t it?’
Carswell said, ‘It’s a cliché, Acer, but there are things going on, things at stake, that I doubt, given your emotional state, you would be able to understand. Matters of national and international security. The future of this region, Turkey’s role in the Middle East, the spread of Islamic fundamentalism. We, no, the world, needs Turkey stable. Damaging revelations about things that could get a whole lot of influential people in a whole lot of public trouble are things we don’t need right now.’
‘These are things worth murdering four of your own men for in cold blood?’
‘I told you you wouldn’t understand. I feel bad about it. They were good guys. A good team. Not irreplaceable by any means. No one is. I like to think they’d approve of the principle at stake.’
‘Can you be serious? You think they’d approve of you shooting them dead, ending their lives, depriving their families of a loved one just for your idea of a higher principle.’
‘Don’t be obtuse, Acer. People in our business are always killing in the name of higher principles. The greater good.’
‘And Mo? And us?’
Carswell sighed. Then he shrugged. He seemed a little tired when he said, ‘T
he bigger picture. Like I said, I don’t expect you to understand.’
‘You’re right there. I don’t understand what the civilised world has come to if this seems all right to you and the people you represent.’
‘You’re being naive. Let’s leave it.’
Zeynep was still standing, holding the box in both arms wondering how she could get the Sig Sauer into her hands – from hefting it earlier in the day she knew she’d need two hands to steady and fire it. She wondered whether she would be able to do it before Carswell started shooting. She wondered whether she could get it to Acer. She wondered if she was going to die and realised that just then, with her life partner almost certainly lying dead in the house, she didn’t care about living.
Zeynep also wondered if Acer was just trying to buy her time when he said, ‘How will you explain it all: the deaths – your team’s and ours?’
‘Oh, come on. Use your imagination. We’re on the Turkish/Syrian border. A jihadist group obviously got wind of the fact that a cell of American agents was using this place as a base from which to make incursions into Syria. They ambushed the guys when they returned from a mission. Killed them all. Death to the infidels.’
‘And us?’
Zeynep said, ‘Can I put this box down. It’s heavy.’
Carswell said, ‘Put it on the ground.’ Then to Acer as Zeynep bent to do that. ‘Flies in the ointment are what you are. I think Crouch might prefer to learn that you did not come back from a harebrained, misguided trip to Aleppo. Of course, I’ll tell him we strongly advised you against going. It was too dangerous. But you were all revved up. No stopping you. Wouldn’t listen to reason. We just wanted to help. And in case you’re wondering why you’re still alive, Acer old buddy, I need someone to dig me some graves – yours and the ladies’.’
The crack of the Sig’s first shot made both Acer and Carswell flinch. Zeynep missed. Carswell ducked down and began bringing his weapon up and round in her direction. Zeynep had the Sig in both hands. Shot two spun Carswell round – a hit in the right shoulder. The rifle fell to the ground. Shot three missed. Shot four slapped into his chest making him stagger backwards. Shot five hit him in the face. His head went back as bits of his skull and brain scattered over the ground behind him. He fell flat on his back in the dust. She fired repeatedly and without delay, pulling the trigger over and over even when the magazine had been emptied – the hammer clicking impotently as the sounds of the shots drifted off across the open land. Then she let the Sig fall to the ground and ran towards the house. Acer did not try to stop her.