The Team (12 page)

Chapter 34

Langley

Dex had spoken to Mackey and Cascaes after they landed back in Qatar. They were all disappointed at missing the Sarin and losing the opportunity to interrogate Abu Mohamed, but at least the world had one less illegal arms dealer peddling death. After the debriefing, Dex went home and showered and slept for five hours. When he returned to the office, his mind was racing. He called Kim.

“You wanted to see me?” asked Kim as she walked into Dex Murphy’s office. “Morning. Have a seat. I think I might have an idea about the Qatar target.”

“Something other than Al Udeid?” she asked.

“I was reading a week’s worth of newspapers last night after living
here
all month. I came across a story about FIFA.”

“FIFA? Like the video game my son plays?” she asked.

“No, the actual Football Federation. Soccer, whatever. So listen—the Emir of Qatar is a huge soccer fan, right? He builds this new high-tech, air-conditioned stadium and allows alcohol in the special sports fan zone to attract an international soccer crowd. He
really
wants the big games played in his country. So, the Executive Committee of FIFA decides where the World Cup is played every year. Qatar is getting the big game. Coincidently, the guy that runs the executive committee has a ten-year-old daughter who magically has two million dollars put into her bank account right before the decision is announced.”

Kim nodded. “Yeah, now that you mention it, I think I remember hearing about that a few weeks back. It isn’t a new story. But the Qatari World Cup isn’t for another few years.”

“Right—Not until 2022. I’m not saying that this is about the World Cup, but it just made me think about the stadium. I looked at their schedule. Man U is playing Spain in two days. Those teams will pack the stadium. The stadium holds forty-five thousand plus. Would make for a helluva target, and the game will be broadcast live. If the NWJ wanted to make a big splash, that would do it.”

Kim put her hand over her mouth. “Jesus. This whole time I was so focused on the airbase…”

“Not just you. We all were. But if they were to successfully detonate a Sarin bomb inside a packed stadium it would be a disaster.”

Kim thought for a second. “Look, we don’t trust the emir, but there’s no way he’d allow this to happen in his stadium. He wants the big games, you just said so yourself. He wouldn’t allow this to jeopardize the World Cup and the future of soccer for his country. We need to bring him into the loop. We’ll need Qatari security to assist.”

“Kim, when the target was our airbase, it was our problem. If it’s the stadium, you’re right, we’ll share the intelligence, but it’s
their
problem. Our guys don’t run security for a foreign soccer stadium.”

She frowned. “You’re going to leave the safety of forty-five thousand fans to the Qatari police? They’re going to need our help.”

He shook his head. “It won’t fly, Kim. We’ll alert the emir, but that’s it. The team doesn’t get involved. I’m going to talk to the boss and tell him about this possibility. We still don’t have anything solid that points to the stadium, just my crazy hunch.”

“Your crazy hunch that I happen to
agree
with, Dex. We have to warn them immediately.”

Dex called Kim back into his office right before the end of the day. It had been another exhausting day, working with the analysts who were still pouring through thousands of records trying to garner some information that might support their theory on the stadium attack.

When Kim entered Dex’s office, she looked as exhausted as he did. “What’s up?”

“POTUS called the emir, personally. After he told him about our theory and the possibility of Sarin being used, the emir called his security council together. The President suggested that maybe they cancel the game, but the emir asked the President if we’d cancel the Super Bowl because of a terror threat, and that was that. The emir is having his Security Council mobilize the army to help with gate security.”

“The entire Qatari Army is what, eight thousand troops?” asked Kim.

Dex nodded. “They’ll have three thousand troops stationed all over the stadium, inside and out. They’ll search everyone coming in.”

“And if they blow the Sarin in the security line?” asked Kim.

Dex shrugged. “They’ll do the best they can. They’re not canceling the game. And the emir’s right—we wouldn’t cancel the Super Bowl.”

“Our people are better at this, Dex.”

“It’s not going to happen. Save your breath. The boss spoke to the President, and the President says the emir is handling it. Thanked us for the tip. We’re out of it.”

Kim rubbed her eyes. “This sucks, Dex.”

“Go home. Get some sleep, see your family, and take tomorrow off. Come in late on Thursday.”

She stared at him coldly. “Just in time to watch Fox News cover the mass casualties at the stadium?”

“Go home, Kim.”

She got up and headed out.

Chapter 35

Qatar

Wednesday was spent in prayer and meditation at the small motel. The men shaved their beards and heads and cleansed their bodies in preparation for martyrdom. Further south, Abdul’s team was busier. Three of them had driven the truck to the stadium, and with the help of their coconspirator in the vending company, carefully smuggled in the loaded vendor boxes to the concession area. The phones had been fully charged, and the batteries would last a few days. The phones were all on, simply awaiting the call from Abdul Aziz that would change history.

As the men were leaving, they watched nervously as Qatari military trucks began arriving at the stadium. The men hurried back to Abdul at the warehouse and reported the sudden military activity.

Abdul listened and thought about it. He dismissed it as standard precautions. Besides, the bombs were already inside the stadium. It was too late for the army or anyone else to stop destiny.

When all the preparations were made, it was simply time to wait. Abdul’s men prepared themselves, just as Rasheed’s had, and spent the rest of the evening in prayer.

Chapter 36

Qatar

Thursday Morning

Rasheed and his men woke up with the sunrise—the last they would see on this earth. The sun was an orange ball of fire, illuminating the desert with long pink fingers across the sky. Rasheed wondered if it would look like this when the bombs went off. Would he hear anything? Feel anything? He smiled, and thought of the virgins who would be waiting for him.

The men prayed and wrote letters to family members, which would be left at the motel to be found by housekeeping some time after the attack.

At five o’clock, Rasheed, now the leader of this small group, rallied his men. “Brothers, we fear nothing. Allah the merciful will welcome us to Paradise as great warriors. Tonight, we’ll drive to the base and catch the Americans at supper. While their pilots fill their fat bellies, Imad will drive the first vehicle into the gate and kill the guards, opening the road for all of us to follow.” He looked at Imad. “Are you afraid, Imad?” he asked.

Imad puffed out his chest. “I have no fear! Allah shall welcome me to Paradise!”

Rasheed smiled and patted his shoulders. “Yes, Imad!
You
will inspire the attack! After Imad kills the guards, I’ll drive the next car into the base. We drive through the entrance road, keep left, and head to the buildings. The barracks and dining hall are all in the same area. Watch for a building with a green door. This is where they eat. This is where I shall go to Paradise. If I’m successful, you will pick the closest barracks.”

The other two nodded.

“In a few hours, we shall all meet in Paradise. There can be no hesitation. No fear. Are you all ready?”

The three of them responded by chanting “God is great!” and then the four of them headed to their vehicles. With Imad in the lead car, the others stayed close behind as they drove down the desolate road. Rasheed dialed Abdul on his disposable cell phone.

Abdul greeted the only man who had his number.

“God is great,” Rasheed replied calmly. “We’re on the way. Less than an hour. God willing, we will kill them all. I shall see you in Paradise, my brother. ”

“Blessings be upon you,” replied Abdul. “You shall be brave.”

“I’m not afraid,” said Rasheed, his voice quivering ever so slightly. He hung up the phone and concentrated on the red taillights in front of him. He would spend the next hour praying as he drove.

Chapter 37

Al Udeid

Mackey and Cascaes assembled the team for an update. They all took seats around the conference table, including Earl Jones, his arm bandaged and resting in a sling where it would remain for another twenty-four hours.

“First things first,” announced Mackey. “How are you feeling?”

Jones flashed his best fake smile and gave a thumbs-up with his left hand. “Hard core, Skipper. Thanks to my man, Hodges, I’m still on this side of the sod.”

Mackey shot Eric a look. “Fine shooting, Hodges.”

“Thanks, skipper,” he replied calmly.

“What did the doc say?” Mackey asked Jones.

“Piece of cake, boss. Two weeks I’ll be doing one-armed pushups.”

“That’s what the doc said?” he asked suspiciously.

“No, doc says three or four weeks, but doc ain’t never seen a hundred and fiftieth Street Recondo before.”

Hodges and Santos, the other two Marines, both growled, “Ohhh Rraaah!” at that.

“Um hmm,” grunted Mackey with a scowl. “Just keep me in the loop and let me know how you’re doing. Now for the latest news on the Sarin and the NWJ. We spoke to Langley a dozen times over the past two days. Like I told you yesterday, the Qataris are focusing on the soccer game tonight. They’ve got a few thousand soldiers and cops set up around the stadium, inspecting bags and keeping an eye on things. I hate sitting over here with my thumb up my ass while these psychos try and blow off a Sarin bomb in the middle of forty-five thousand people, but we’ve been ordered to stand down.”

“So that’s it?” asked Moose, obviously angry. “One of our guys almost gets ghosted in the raid, and then we get told to stay out of it?”

Cascaes snapped at his SEAL. “Stand down, Moose. We don’t have to like it. Bottom line is, we ain’t bouncers for the Qatari soccer stadium. Besides, it’s not a hundred percent that’s the target anyway. It’s just one theory.”

“What’s the other theory?” asked Moose.

“That they’re going to try and hit us right here. Al Udeid. Base commander’s been alerted and the guards have been doubled up. Drones have been patrolling the airspace, Navy station at Doha is on high alert, and all military ships are under way to keep them out of port. Air force has been moving aircraft to bomb-proof bunkers or keeping them under heavy guard. This place is locked down pretty tight, but who knows. We wait and watch.”

“That’s so reassuring,” said Moose.

Mackey looked around the room. “Al Udeid is in the middle of the desert. Anyone trying to get in is coming through a heavily defended gate. We’re the Navy All-Star Baseball Team. We can’t walk around base with commando gear. Sit tight and wait for orders. For now, stay here in the barracks. I want everyone close in case something comes up.”

The team was dismissed, but Cascaes called Earl Jones back to wait a minute. Mack looked over, but Cascaes gave a quick shake of his head, and Mackey understood he wanted a private conversation. He walked out and closed the door behind him.

“How are you doing, Earl?” asked Cascaes.

Earl looked at him with a slightly annoyed face. “Like I told Mack, I’m good man. Just a scratch. I’ll be G to G in two weeks.”

Cascaes sat back and stared hard into his eyes. “I’m not talking about your arm, Earl.”

Earl swallowed hard and stared back at him.

“You know what I’m talking about, Earl. How are you doing? You sleeping? Having nightmares?”

Earl looked up at the ceiling and around the room. He stood up. “I’m good, boss.”

“Sit down,” said Cascaes in a quiet voice that few fathers can master, but which command instant action. Earl sat.

“I’m good,” he said, a little softer this time.

“Earl. There’s no shame in getting help if you need it. There’s people you can talk to if you’re having a hard time dealing with something. The stress we deal with isn’t normal. If you need to talk…”

Earl’s eyes watered, and he cut Cascaes off. “What am I supposed to say to some shrink, Skipper? I blew away two little kids, and now I feel guilty about it? That gonna make it all better?” A tear ran down his face, which he quickly wiped away.

Cascaes exhaled slowly. “Look, man—I’m not saying talking about it makes it instantly better, but getting it off your chest helps, sometimes. I’m not religious, but I’ve seen plenty of my guys go to confession. You know what I think? I think the confession isn’t about being forgiven by God. I think it’s about being forgiven by
yourself
. You didn’t murder two kids because you’re some kind of sicko. You fired on an enemy vehicle to save
me
, Earl! You were trying to save my ass because that’s what we do for each other. We kill and die for each other because we’re a family. The kind of family that civilians won’t ever understand. And right now, you need someone to have your back. When was the last time you had a real night’s sleep?”

Earl stared at Cascaes through watery eyes and shrugged.

“Have you slept one good night since the ambush?”

Earl shook his head no.

“Listen, man—I’m not a psychiatrist, okay? But I’ve been in this shit for my entire adult life. Mack and I were just talking about this stuff. About the fact that we’ll probably always be single because we’re so fucked up after a whole life of doing this shit that we can’t have normal conversations with women anymore. You’re still young. You have to keep your head on straight. And there’s more to it, Earl.”

He paused and stared at Earl until Earl asked, somewhat timidly, “What?”

“If you don’t get this shit squared away, you’re going to get yourself or one of us killed. You hesitated out there, didn’t you?”

Earl burst out crying without warning, and then covered his face with his hand. He’d been holding it in for too long, and when it came out, it didn’t want to stop. Mackey stood and walked around the table, bent over, and gave Earl a hug, holding him for a moment until Earl composed himself.

“There’s no shame in feeling sad or guilty over what happened, Earl. No shame. You got that? You’re a bad-ass fucking warrior. I’ll share my foxhole with you any day. But you can’t just hold all this in until you explode. You need a few weeks for your arm to heal before you’re ready to get to work, anyway. There’s a doc on base you can talk to; I already asked.”

Earl patted Cascaes’ arm and Chris walked back around to his chair and sat. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and looked at Earl. “Look, man, we’ve had more vets die from suicide than were killed in combat in the last ten years. Did you know that? It’s fucked up, Jonesy. We get trained to become warriors and we kill and destroy and leave a wake of destruction behind us. And then we just get sent home and we’re supposed to be able to go back to civilian life and be like everyone else. But we’re not. And when you leave this family of guys that would kill or die for you, and you’re all alone back in the world, you better be cool with everything you did over here. Because if you’re not, you’re going to be all alone at home—surrounded by people, maybe, but all alone. No one but your team knows what the deal is. So you need to find your peace
now
, Earl.”

“I don’t know why it hit me so hard, Skipper. I’ve been in plenty of combat before. Seen lots of shit. I just, I dunno…”

“They were kids, and you saw them up close and personal. You don’t think I see them every day? I apologized to them. I apologized to God.”

Earl looked at him confused. “You said you weren’t religious?”

“I’m not. That doesn’t mean I don’t believe in God. Find me anyone who’s been shot at that doesn’t believe in
something
. My point is, I let it go. I apologized, and I forgave
myself
. And you need to find a way to do that. Otherwise, you’re no good to yourself or anyone else. You’re a good man, Earl. And a good Marine. I’m here if you ever want to talk.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a card, which he slid to Earl. “This is the number for Doctor Hayes. I spoke to him briefly. Seems like a good guy. Anyway, you’ve got a couple of weeks off. Stop by and talk to him.”

Earl slid the card into his pocket.

“It stays between us, Earl. But just so you know, the guys would all understand. And at some point, every single one of them should be talking to someone. Now get some sleep.”