by Becky Harmon
“Something we can provide in return for them doing their jobs?”
“I know it’s not ideal, but we have nothing to back up any threats with. Call Inspector Asker and see if he’ll come here for a meeting. He’s proven to be trustworthy in the past. Maybe he can help us come up with a plan.”
Police Inspector Faizan Asker wouldn’t be happy being summoned to the US embassy, but she needed his support if she was going to stop the bribery that was working against them.
“I’ll get right on it.”
He stood to leave but hesitated at the door. “Are you still planning to visit the solar panel farm?”
She nodded.
“I wondered. I saw it was still on your schedule. What’s your protection detail say about it?”
“Nothing yet. I’m hoping it won’t be an issue by then.”
“It’s coming up soon.”
She shrugged, but his words registered as she remembered Angel’s question. Was this trip what the crowd was trying to influence? That didn’t make sense. A hostile crowd could delay her visit, preventing the much-needed solar panel farm from providing electricity to the community. That included the men standing outside. The two things couldn’t be related.
“We’ll figure it out when the time comes,” Sam said, nodding his understanding.
“Yes, when the time comes.”
Chapter Eleven
On Tuesday morning, Angel made her rounds to check on her agents and then strode across the lawn toward the gatehouse. She spoke briefly to Eric, Miller, and the two marines before moving to the walking gate. Using the key Miller had given her, she unlocked the deadbolt and stepped outside the embassy gates, carefully securing the lock behind her.
The crowd had grown quiet as she approached, and now they gazed at her intently. She wasn’t surprised that they had pushed back giving her plenty of space. Most Mauritanian men wouldn’t take a chance of touching her even by accident. It was possible they wouldn’t speak to her either.
“Is there anyone willing to talk with me?” She spoke loudly in English to the crowd. She would try French if she had to, but her repertoire was sparse. She could have brought Toma or someone from the embassy staff as a translator, but she was interested to see what would happen if she didn’t present that option.
After a few minutes, she heard Rodriquez’s voice in her ear as he watched from the rooftop. She wasn’t armed so she was counting on his watchful eye. “The man on the wall is approaching.”
She waited, studying the men around her. Some wouldn’t meet her eyes, but she boldly responded in kind to the ones that did, memorizing their appearance. Most of the men wore shorter pants beneath their robes, but there was an occasional pair of jeans or long pants. Sandals were the only foot attire if there was any at all.
Finally working his way through the crowd, Imad Abadi approached. He was dressed roughly the same as the men from the crowd, but his black dress shoes stood out on the sand-covered road.
He studied Angel as he approached.
“Can you speak for the crowd?” she asked when he stopped in front of her.
“I can.”
“The ambassador would like to know how we can resolve this situation. What can she do to help you?”
She watched his eyes as they checked out the area behind her as well as the rooftop.
“We want her to leave our country,” he said firmly. His voice was strong, his eyes dark and unreadable. The beard covering his face moved as he spoke but hid any expression.
Her jaw tightened at the hostility in his words.
“She’s here on behalf of the United States government as well as the Mauritanian government. Why do you want her to leave?”
“She forces her way into places she doesn’t belong. She’s not wanted here.”
“If there’s something you need, the ambassador would be happy to meet with you and discuss how she can help.” Even as she said the words she knew she would never allow this man near Ellie. She had broken one of the most important rules of negotiation. She had lied.
He knew the truth as well because he turned and began walking away. His parting words barely reached her as the chanting began again.
“We don’t want her help.”
She watched his retreating figure until it was swallowed up by the crowd.
Rodriquez’s voice sounded in her ear again. “Unlock the gate. I’ve got your back.”
She turned and let herself back through the gate. There was no question in her mind that the man’s words had been rehearsed. It was a script he had been told to say, but his words would still hurt Ellie. Clearing her face of emotion, she started the long walk to Ellie’s office.
Miller fell into step beside her as she reached the stairs. He was silent as they climbed. When they reached the second floor, he placed a hand on her arm and she turned to face him.
“Maybe the ambassador shouldn’t hear the recording,” he suggested.
She was glad the people closest to Ellie cared about more than her physical protection.
“I feel the same way.”
“Glad to hear it,” Miller said, heading back down the stairs.
She was surprised to see Sam in Ellie’s office. He was settled into one of the chairs in front of her desk, and it was clear he had no intention of leaving. She approached Ellie’s desk and remained standing.
Choosing her words carefully, she spoke gently, “The crowd isn’t speaking for themselves. They’re repeating someone else’s agenda.”
“What did they ask for?” Ellie asked, her voice soft but clear and strong.
Angel glanced at Sam before looking back at her. “Nothing.”
“Then why are they out there?” Sam demanded in frustration.
“I believe their goal is to drive the ambassador away.” She watched the hurt flash across Ellie’s face as she spoke. “As for why, they didn’t say. They did say they don’t want anything from you.”
Ellie turned her back to them, facing the window.
“Well, we’re not going away,” Sam said, standing. “I’ll review everything that has happened in the last couple of weeks. Maybe we stepped on the wrong person’s toes.”
“Go back a month or two,” she suggested.
Sam nodded and left the office.
She studied Ellie’s back as she stared out the window. She was dressed in a white silk shirt that hung loosely from her shoulders. It was tucked into black dress pants with a narrow black belt that circled her waist. The matching black jacket hung across the back of her chair. Her body was still, without any of the nervous energy she normally displayed. Angel wasn’t even sure she knew she was still in the room until she spoke.
“I’ve worked hard to make things better for everyone, but especially the dockworkers. I’ve pushed for fair and increased wages, and they even have a form of health care now. Why are they fighting against me?”
“It’s not them. This is someone else’s agenda. Sam’s right. You did or said something that upset the control someone thought they had and that individual is orchestrating this whole ordeal. We’ll figure out who’s behind it, but until we do just keep doing what you’re doing.”
Ellie turned to face her. The hurt she had displayed moments ago had transformed into anger. “How are you going to do that?” she demanded.
“I have a few ideas.”
“Ideas that you’re not going to share with me.”
She didn’t miss that Ellie’s words were more a statement than a question. The words tugged at her. “Once I work out the details, I’ll fill you in, okay?”
Ellie nodded and turned back to the window.
She wasn’t sure Ellie believed her. That thought unsettled her more than her lack of ideas on how to actually deal with the crowd.
* * *
Ellie struggled to push her frustration with Angel and the men outside from her mind as she focused on the presentation she was about to hear, a background review by a staffer of Mauritania’s north
ern border.
She took her seat at the end of the conference room table and smiled at Chloe as she set a cup of black tea in front of her. “It’s a calming blend with a caffeine kick,” she whispered as she took the seat beside her.
She chuckled softly. Chloe never ceased to amaze her. An adult barely out of her teen years, she could be so intuitive at times.
Sam slid into the seat on her other side as the young man at the podium began his presentation, pointing to the map on display behind him.
“Morocco, our northern neighbor, has sent troops to their most southern village. They claim they are there to fight against drug trafficking and to prevent all types of smuggling. The Western Sahara, which separates Mauritania and Morocco, is controlled by the Polisario, an Algerian-backed movement. The Western Sahara has abided by the 1991 ceasefire agreement because it held the promise of their independence. This move by Morocco has increased tension in the area despite their claim that the gendarmerie has been charged with police duties and not for war. The Polisario consider their movement a violation of the agreement.”
This information wasn’t new to Ellie. If the Polisario and Morocco began open warfare, she was fairly sure Mauritania would join as well. Mauritania’s economy could not fund or survive a war. Would she remain if Mauritania went to war? Could she ask Vince to keep Angel here for extra protection? Speaking of whom…
She glanced to the rear of the room and felt a weight lift at seeing Angel leaning against the wall. When she and Chloe had left their office, there had been no sign of her. Though she didn’t like to admit it, Angel’s presence made her feel safe.
She had never before felt afraid while performing her duties as ambassador. Shane’s attention to detail always gave her a level of comfort in and out of the embassy. She didn’t need this tall, strong, beautiful woman to protect her and, yet, she liked the feeling that she could. She couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to be wrapped in Angel’s arms.
Sam’s elbow dug into her side.
She gave him a quick frown as she became aware that the others around the table were all looking at her too. Realizing she had missed a question directed at her, she smiled at the staffer giving the presentation.
“I’m sorry, Cody. Could you repeat the question?”
Behind her, she could feel Angel’s laughter.
* * *
Angel felt some responsibility for Ellie’s lack of attention, but it still brought a smile to her face. She stepped out of the conference room, softly closing the door behind her. Ellie didn’t need her hanging over her shoulder. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Sarah.
“Hey, boss. How’s embassy life?”
She laughed. “Things are okay here. How’s things on your end?”
“Shroder and Blake brought back lunch when they went out earlier. A local rice dish with unidentifiable meat. Once I picked out the meat it was delicious.”
“I know what you mean. Even the word viande gives me chills.”
“Eric said you tried to negotiate earlier. How’d that go?”
“That’s actually why I called. To fill you in. Although I should have known Eric would too.”
“He’s my best source of information.”
She laughed again. “What’s that supposed to mean? I tell you everything.”
“No, you tell me what you want me to know. Eric tells me everything else.”
“Okay. How about you tell me what Eric told you then?”
“Where’s the fun in that? Besides you already know that the beautiful ambassador has a temper.”
Remembering the look on Ellie’s face as she crossed the yard yesterday made her shake her head. “That she does.”
“It’s a shame it was focused on you, though,” Sarah said, laughing.
“I’m here to keep her safe, not make her happy.” She knew as the words left her lips that they weren’t true. She wanted Ellie to be happy as well as safe.
“Harrumph.”
“What?”
“How could you not be attracted to her? She’s beautiful, successful, and has a dark CIA past.”
She lowered her voice even though there was no one nearby. “Even if I was attracted to her, you’re assuming she likes the fairer sex.”
“She does.”
She normally liked Sarah’s ability to gather intelligence, but something told her this wouldn’t necessarily be mission-relevant information. She bit her lip as the words fell out anyway. “Spill it.”
“There was a bit of a scandal in Cambridge concerning a Harvard theater arts student and an ambitious poli-sci major who would become an ambassador. I’m waiting for a callback. I think I found a firsthand accounting.”
“That was over twenty years ago and it’s gossip.”
“It’s not gossip. It’s intel.”
“That’s a debate for another time.” She could still hear Sarah’s laughter as she disconnected the call.
Chapter Twelve
Inside a first-floor conference room, Ellie stood behind the podium in front of her staff. The three-quarter sleeves on the dark blue sweater she was wearing over a blue and white open collar shirt seemed to be irritating her; she continually pushed them above her elbows.
“As most of you are aware, President Aziz has announced he will not change the constitution to allow himself to run for president again. If he holds to this statement, this will be a significant step forward for Mauritanian democracy. It also means that we need to work fast to make the changes we know President Aziz will approve.”
The mesmerizing sound of Ellie’s voice dragged Angel through the events of the last week. After Monday’s fiasco, she had shared her plans to go into the crowd. She had even briefed Ellie immediately after. Through the rest of the week, she had continued to be as forthcoming as possible. Nothing had changed outside, and she didn’t have a plan yet, though she sensed that each day was bringing them closer to whatever event was going to be the catalyst to ending the protest outside and she was getting frustrated playing defense.
Worst of all was the way Ellie’s behavior had changed toward her. The quick easy smile didn’t reach her eyes anymore, and their interactions were tense. Angel continued to be present when Ellie had scheduled events or visitors from outside the embassy, but she no longer eagerly anticipated their private briefings. She could only think about reviewing analysis of the crowd, blocking out any thoughts of what might have been growing between them.
Her disappointment at the loss and Ellie’s lack of confidence in her didn’t change her thinking. She still believed that Ellie didn’t need to know what she truly thought about the men on the stone wall. Her job wasn’t only to protect Ellie from physical threats; she needed to keep the worry of potential threats away from her as well. Okay, maybe that wasn’t in her job description, but it allowed her to feel like she was at least accomplishing something.
She knew the need was irrational. And Sarah had confirmed it, laughing at her when she had mentioned it the previous night.
“What?” Sarah said. “You don’t really feel responsible for the ambassador’s level of anxiety, do you?”
“Maybe not directly, but I am responsible for what I tell her.”
“I don’t know, boss, but I’m pretty sure you don’t want to decide what you tell her based on that philosophy.”
Sarah was the only one that called her “boss” and the only one who could get away with chastising her. Not liking the direction the conversation had started to spin, she quickly ended the call.
Of course, that wasn’t her only reason for not sharing everything with Ellie. She hated to admit it, but her ego was in there too. She felt like they were digging in the wrong sand pile. How much more time would pass before she had answers to all of her questions?
Sam hadn’t been able to recall any specific embassy action that could be linked to the days before the crowd had appeared, but he was still looking. She had asked Sarah’s team to search through the record
s too to see if they could spot anything that might have a significant negative impact on any group or person. Ellie’s administration had been hard at work, so Sarah had a lot of material to research.
She was fairly confident that the men on the wall were being paid to do a job the same as the crowd. Were they responsible for the gunfire? There had not been any since her arrival. Were they only there to keep tabs on the crowd and make sure the men were doing what they were paid to do? If one of their jobs was to speak when someone from the embassy approached, would they also be the ones to give the order for the crowd to become more violent?
All of her free time now was spent reviewing videos of the men or standing on the rooftop watching them. Her mind played with ways she could lure the men away from the crowd to see what would happen, but she had yet to come up with something solid. They never ate or slept and barely talked to anyone while they sat on the stone wall. The only time they deviated from this was when they were called to prayer by the mosque. Five times a day the men would get in a single line with their backs to the embassy and lay down their prayer rugs.
Duncan had been able to identify the constantly rotating faces in the crowd, as well as the men on the wall, as dockworkers, but they came from a variety of employers. She had asked Duncan to dig deeper into each company that had employed the men, trying to find a connection between them.
The lack of information was starting to wear on her. She wanted to brief Ellie quickly and return to her review of the perimeter videos. Maybe tonight would be the night she would find what she needed to make the pieces fit together.
* * *
Ellie could feel her emotions bubbling to the surface though she was doing her best to hide them. Each day she forced aside the thought that everything was her fault, but she couldn’t help but wonder if everything would return to normal if she left today. It was getting harder to remain calm and be patient.
It was also getting harder to work with Angel. She wanted to believe that she would come to her with any information they found and they would be able to discuss it, but for several days, Angel’s briefings had been short and lacked any substance. Angel stood at attention in front of her each morning and night divulging only the smallest amount of material. Ellie could see she was holding back. Tonight she was going to try and break through Angel’s façade.