I returned his greeting, but we didn’t call each other by name, nor did I introduce him to anyone.
Dave gestured toward a sofa in the trailer’s living area and addressed Barron and Jacob. “Make yourself comfortable here. I’ll be back with some refreshments for you in a moment.”
He nodded at Mitchell and me. “You two come with me. He’s waiting for you in the back.” He motioned toward the rear of the trailer.
“Not me?” Barron asked.
Dave said, “I’m sorry. It’s a little crowded back there.”
Barron dismissed his remark with a flick of his hand. “Oh, sure, I understand. I’ll just wait out here with Jacob.”
Jacob was gazing around the trailer as if he might be slightly disoriented, although he didn’t seem agitated or nervous.
Nevertheless, when I caught his eye, I said, “This won’t take long, Jacob. When I’m done, I’ll explain what’s going on.”
He sat down on the sofa still clutching his laptop. “I believe I know what’s going on, Austin, but do what you have to do. I’ll be fine.”
I followed Mitchell and Dave through the kitchen area and down a narrow hallway. As we passed by an open door, I caught a glimpse of a cramped bedroom with several cots in it. Next to it was a closed door—presumably, Carlton’s hideaway.
Dave paused and knocked on the door three times in rapid succession, opening it before I heard anyone give him permission to come inside.
The room was not spacious by any stretch of the imagination, but, nevertheless, it contained enough electronics and communications equipment to be a mini-version of one of the RTM Centers.
To my left was an operations console, which was where Carlton was seated, and next to him was a communications station, where Dave’s partner, Finn, sat hunched over a computer keyboard. Mounted on the wall above them were a couple of video monitors.
Carlton stood to his feet when we walked in, and Finn gave us a brief wave, while continuing to keep his eye on one of the monitors.
“It all went smoothly?” Carlton asked.
I nodded. “Smooth as silk.”
He ran his head over his bald head and motioned for Mitchell and me to have a seat on a padded bench across from his console.
“We might have a problem, though,” he said, turning his chair around so it was facing us.
“You mean Hussein?” I asked.
“No, not Hussein. I think we’ve got him taken care of.”
When he noticed I was about to ask a question, he held up his hand and said, “I’ll tell you what we’re doing about Hussein in a minute.”
He glanced up at one of the monitors where I could see an aerial view of the compound, specifically Prince Rahman’s villa.
“Here’s the problem,” he said. “The Israelis informed us Prince Mohamed sent a delegation to the compound to inform Prince Rahman of Hasan Amari’s death. Included in that delegation is Samir Al-Saker, the Saudi engineer who convinced Jacob to disappear. Apparently, Samir is the person who made Stephen Gault’s hotel reservation in Riyadh, and he’s the contact the Saudi police called about Gault’s murder. Now, he’s about to pay Jacob a visit and give him the bad news.”
“So what happens when Samir shows up at Jacob’s house, and he doesn’t find anyone at home?” I asked.
“That’s the big unknown.”
“He might decide to try again later,” Mitchell said.
“Or he could immediately check with security and discover Jacob left the compound with someone named Stephen Gault,” I said. “Once that happens, the refugee camp will be swarming with security, and we won’t be able to leave Somahi, much less Yemen. I’d say we need to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
Carlton pointed up at the blank screen on the other monitor and said, “We should be hearing from the Ops Center in a few minutes. Olivia is working out the details of our exit plan.”
“Did she receive the video transmission when we were inside Jacob’s house?” I asked, touching the sunglasses hanging from my shirt. “Mason said there wasn’t much battery left on these sunglasses.”
“Yes, we heard most of your conversation with Jacob, but we lost your feed after we heard him agree to come with you. But then, our surveillance drone was able to pick you up when you left the house and headed for the park. We also saw Hussein’s vehicle leaving the compound.”
Finn turned toward Carlton and said, “I just received word the Ops Center will be online in five minutes.”
Carlton gestured at me. “Tell me what happened when the security guard stopped you at the gatehouse when you were leaving the compound. He held up your vehicle an inordinate amount of time, and I admit I thought Jeremy’s prediction was about to come true.”
“Hussein told him we were headed here to the refugee camp, and the guard made note of every passenger in the vehicle. That’s why I know if Samir contacts the guard, he’ll be able to tell him exactly where we are.”
Carlton looked up at the monitor. “Samir hasn’t left Prince Rahman’s villa yet, so we still have some time.”
“Let’s hope Samir doesn’t have Hussein’s phone number,” I said.
Carlton said, “Speaking of Hussein, I believe I have enough time to tell you what I have planned for him before Olivia contacts us, but keep in mind she’ll need to confirm this when we talk to her.”
He looked down at a yellow legal pad in front of him. Four words were written there, but I couldn’t read any of them.
“In the next fifteen minutes or so, Hussein will receive a text from his supervisor over at the Al-Jarba base. Of course, that text will originate in the Ops Center, but Hussein will have no way of knowing that. He’ll be instructed to go to the base, pick up a package, and deliver it to Prince Rahman’s villa.”
“That could be a problem. I’m guessing he has orders to stay close to Jacob, so he may refuse to leave him here at the camp.”
“We’ve thought of that. He’ll be told another driver is on his way over to Marlize to pick up Jacob and take him back to the compound.”
Mitchell said, “Hussein may be too preoccupied counting the cash we’re giving him to be concerned about Jacob.”
“You have a point there,” Carlton said.
He turned to a blank page on his legal pad and gestured at me. “Give me a quick assessment of Jacob’s state of mind.”
“He’s really difficult to read, but so far, he’s been following my instructions. If you’re worried about him reneging on his decision to return to the States with us, I can’t see that happening. He seems determined to go back home and help his brother win the presidency.”
Carlton looked over at Mitchell. “Anything to add?”
“I understand why people have described Jacob as odd. He’s holding on to his laptop like it’s a life preserver, and he’s drowning.”
Carlton’s eyes widened. “You allowed him to bring his laptop?”
“I was just about to mention that.”
Chapter 39
When I told Carlton about the laptops Jacob and Barron had carried out of the compound, I didn’t take responsibility for what occurred, but I did try to lessen the impact of Barron’s actions by pointing out the benefits of having the laptops in our possession and not in the hands of the Saudis.
Much as I anticipated, Carlton focused more on what could have happened and less on the advantages of depriving the Saudis of any useful intel the laptops might contain.
When I was unable to tell him exactly what was on Jacob’s laptop, or on Gault’s either for that matter, he locked both hands behind his head, leaned back in his chair, and stared up at the ceiling without saying a word.
He was still in that position when the monitor above his console came to life, and Olivia appeared on the screen.
At that moment, I was actually glad to see her.
Olivia could also see Carlton’s image on her console screen, and since Mitchell and I were seated directly behind him, Olivia was able to see us as wel
l.
“No one looks seriously injured,” Olivia said. “I take that as a good sign.”
Carlton removed his hands from behind his head and looked up at the monitor. “Everything went smoothly, and now all the parties are here at the EAI center. We still need to get rid of Hussein, though. Have you been able to work that out?”
She nodded. “It’s all taken care of. As soon as we’re finished here, I’ll give the go-ahead for the text to be sent. I’m counting on Hussein leaving Marlize within a few minutes of receiving it, and once that happens, we’ll initiate the protocols for you to leave Somahi.”
“Any problem making the arrangements with our guy in Al-Mukalla?” Carlton asked.
“No, everything’s all set up, but he emphasized Titus needs to get to the Saudi airbase by midnight.”
“That’s six hours from now, so I can’t see how that would be a problem,” I said. “Al-Mukalla is less than three hours from Somahi.”
Olivia said, “Yes, but you can’t use the main highway during the last leg of the trip. Before you reach Arrayda, you’ll need to take the northern route around the city and enter Al-Mukalla through the Shabwah Pass. The Houthis rebels have taken up positions around Arrayda, so you’ll need to avoid that area.”
“Driving through the mountains at night will add at least another hour to the trip, but that should still give us plenty of time,” I said.
“The rebels have been very active in that region lately,” Olivia said, “so don’t take any chances. Our reconnaissance satellites indicate they may be planning a move against Al-Mukalla itself, but according to my contact at the base, their numbers are way too small right now to cause much trouble.”
“What happens once we reach the base?”
Carlton said, “You’ll report to Captain Don Parrish. He’s the Agency’s contact at the base. He’s made arrangements for a military transport to fly you to Thumrait Air Base in Oman at midnight. From there, you’ll be flown back to Washington.”
“How soon will that be?” I asked.
“I can’t give you the timing on that just yet. Since Jacob will be turned over to the FBI as soon as you land at Andrews, I’m still working out the details of your arrival with Frank Benson. I don’t imagine you’ll stay in Oman for more than twenty-four hours, though.”
“Jacob will need to have a physical once we leave here. If we’re in Oman for more than twenty-four hours, maybe he could do it there.”
“Could we just concentrate on getting through the next twenty-four hours?” Olivia asked. “Or better yet, the next six hours.”
“You’re right, Olivia,” Carlton said. “We’ll work out the rest of the protocols once we’re out of Yemen.”
Olivia said, “Titus, as Douglas mentioned, when you reach the airbase at Al-Mukalla, you’ll report to Captain Parrish.” She gestured at her keyboard. “I’ve just sent the captain’s contact information to your phone, but I doubt if you’ll need it. The security guards at the gate have already been notified a news crew from GNS will be arriving at the base around midnight.”
I glanced down at my phone. “Okay, it just came through.”
Carlton asked, “Any questions for Olivia before she signs off?”
“Yeah,” I said, “why do you think the Houthis are planning a move against Al-Mukalla?”
“That’s the assessment of our analysts,” she said, reaching over and picking up a sheet of paper. “I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.”
After quickly scanning through the document, she said, “They’re basing that assessment on some of the satellite images which show the Houthis have established a base of operations at a small village to the west of Al-Mukalla. They’ve also seen evidence of them planting mines in the area, and they’ve identified a recent influx of new recruits in the countryside around Al-Mukalla.”
“Okay, that all makes sense.”
“There’s something else I should mention. Occasionally, the Houthis have been known to set up roadblocks along the route you’ll be traveling. Keep in mind they’re only interested in money; they don’t care about your documents, but when they realize they’ve stopped an American news crew, you can bet they’ll find something wrong with your documents and charge you a huge fine.”
“Those kind of fines are usually payable on demand, but don’t worry about us. We’ve still got plenty of insurance money left.”
“Did I say I was worried about you?” Olivia asked.
Carlton picked up one of two American passports sitting on his desk next to his legal pad and handed it to me. “I don’t believe they’ll find anything wrong with your documents. Here’s a passport for Jacob in the name of Jay Spencer. Have him memorize the birth date and place of birth printed on the passport, but tell him just to make something up if he’s asked for any other details about Jay Spencer.”
“What about Mason?” I asked. “Is he coming to Al-Mukalla with us?”
“No, after the computer incident, I’ve decided Mason will be traveling back to Washington with me.”
* * * *
Carlton said he and Barron, along with Dave and Finn, would be leaving the refugee camp shortly after our departure in order to avoid being questioned by the Saudi officials about Jacob’s disappearance.
“We’ll return to Aden tonight and catch a flight to Doha, Qatar in the morning,” he said. “You should be at the airbase in Oman by the time we land in Doha.”
“Will you fly straight to Washington from Doha?”
“That’s right, but I’ll contact you when I land in Doha. By that time, I should have all the details worked out with the FBI about how you’re going to coordinate Jacob’s arrival back in the States.”
Olivia said, “Just to be clear, Titus. Since Douglas will be on the road, you’ll need to contact me if you encounter any difficulties getting to Al-Mukalla. I’ll also be tracking your location on the Grid.”
“Got it.”
“Okay,” Olivia said, “I think that wraps everything up from my end. I’ll sign off and send Hussein that text now.”
Olivia hesitated a moment, but then she added, “I’ll be praying everything goes well for all of you.”
The Ops Center’s monitor went blank.
Carlton looked stunned by Olivia’s comment. “Well, that was a first.”
“You think it’s a bad sign Olivia’s praying for us?” Mitchell asked.
“Not at all,” I said. “I consider it a very good sign.”
Carlton nodded and motioned toward the door. “I’d suggest the two of you go find Hussein. He might choose to ignore that text unless you’re around to give him the cash you promised him.”
I put Jacob’s new passport in my pocket, and then I reached over and picked up the remaining passport from Carlton’s desk. “Since Mason can’t be Stephen Gault any longer, I assume this is his passport. Shall I give it to him?”
“No, leave it here, but tell him I’d like to see him ASAP.”
As Mitchell and I headed out the door, Carlton said, “And, Titus, once you get rid of Hussein, come back and see me before you take off. There’s something I need to tell you in private.”
His voice sounded ominous—the kind of tone he usually reserved for discussions about personal matters, family matters, serious matters.
I hoped I was wrong.
* * * *
When Mitchell and I reentered the living room, I handed Jacob his new passport, gave him instructions about memorizing the details, and then I said I’d let him know about our plans to leave Somahi shortly.
First, though, I had to go take care of something.
After Barron saw me give Jacob his new passport, he immediately asked about one for himself, and that’s when I pointed him down the hallway toward the closed door and his rendezvous with Carlton.
A few minutes later, after I asked Dave to keep an eye on Jacob, Mitchell and I left the trailer and headed toward the nearest EAI food distribution truck. As we came upon a clearing at the side of
the truck, we spotted Taylor and Hussein in the middle of a bunch of kids kicking a soccer ball around.
Delaney was standing off to the side, and when we walked up to her, I asked if Hussein had gotten any messages on his cell phone.
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him take out his cell phone since we got here.”
“He’ll be getting an urgent message soon. When that happens, we’ll need to make sure he doesn’t ignore it. Otherwise, the only way we’ll be able to get rid of him will be to go to Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?” she asked.
Mitchell looked over at me and said, “We’d rather not say.”
Since Delaney appeared to take his remark seriously, I tried not to smile.
In reality, Plan B was a running joke Mitchell and I’d shared when we’d been locked up together on a coffee plantation in Cuba.
“In that case,” she said, “we’d better start filming the extra footage of him. Otherwise, he might decide to stick around here a little longer.”
I agreed with her, so Mitchell pulled his camera out of his bag and aimed it at the soccer game.
However, as Delaney started waving her arm around, pretending to give Mitchell directions about how she wanted him to film Hussein interacting with the kids, Hussein suddenly noticed what was happening and walked over to where we were standing.
As he adjusted his thobe, he said, “Don’t use that footage in your documentary. My job isn’t playing with children.”
Delaney seemed taken aback by Hussein’s hostility toward her, but she held her ground.
“Our American audience will enjoy seeing the video of children playing, but Ralph will make sure you’re not in those frames, if it would make you feel uncomfortable.”
“It wouldn’t make me feel uncomfortable, but don’t use it.”
Pointing at the logo on the side of the EAI truck, he asked, “Why don’t you use that as the background for your extra footage?”
“Sure, that would work,” Delaney said, gesturing for Mitchell to follow her over to the EAI truck.
Under Delaney’s directions, Mitchell panned the camera around Hussein as he stood next to the truck’s logo, but when she asked him to begin walking toward her, Hussein suddenly stopped and removed his cell phone from his pocket.
Five Years in Yemen Page 37