The Seventh Pillar (10 page)

"Mauritania is going fundamentalist. They don’t like us. If we sent in our military it would create a huge international incident. Unacceptable."

"Unacceptable to whom?"

"The White House, for one. That’s enough."

"Anything else, Steph?"

"No. Be careful."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

They checked into separate rooms in a hotel in Nouakchott, the capitol of Mauritania. The clerk eyed them with more than a little suspicion. But money crossed all boundaries. Carter ached like he’d been mauled by a cement mixer, then run over by a truck. He lay down on the narrow bed in his room.

Repeated knocking at the door pulled him back from wherever he'd been. Not sleep, more like a black hole of unconsciousness. He looked at his watch. He’d been out for almost six hours. His back was stiff and sore. He got up and opened the door for Selena. She'd darkened her skin and changed into a long skirt and blouse of some dark material. She carried a cloth bag over her shoulder. A brown scarf covered her shoulders. She had a box and a steaming container of tea in her hands.

"You look like someone dragged you through an alley," she said.

"Good morning to you, too. Or is it evening?" He turned and went to a basin in the corner and splashed rusty water on his face and waited for his brain to start functioning. Selena handed him the tea and took the one chair in the room.

It was early morning. Sounds of vendors calling out on the street below filtered past the curtains on the windows. A fan rattled on the scarred dresser. He sat on the bed. The springs sagged. Hilton and Marriott didn’t need to worry about the competition here. He blew on the tea.

Selena put the cardboard box on the bed. She reached down and adjusted her skirt. "What do you think they're going to do? What would you do?"

"Get wherever I was going as fast as possible and out of sight."

"Would you drive all the way down here?"

"If the pickup point was somewhere nearby."

"If they're meeting a ship they could be anywhere on the coast." She ran her fingers through her hair. "We don’t know much, do we?"

"No. Guesses are all we've got unless Steph spots them again." He looked out the window. "These terrorists. They’re like a nest of vipers. The only thing that will stop them is killing them."

"That’s not a popular view in some circles."

"Yeah, well it may not be popular, but a viper’s a viper. You can make up compassionate excuses for why it wants to strike, or talk about how it wouldn’t hurt you if you didn’t provoke it, but if it threatens you, you kill it."

"I don’t think there’s a lot of time to find these particular vipers."

Nick stood and began pacing back and forth in the small room.

"I think they'll go as far as they can on improved roads. They'll avoid security checkpoints or roadblocks. They're well organized. They probably know where those are. On the roads they blend in. Staying anonymous is more important than speed."

Carter stopped pacing. "We can’t cover everything. Let’s make some assumptions."

"Assume away."

"Assumption number one is they're making for the coast to offload to a ship somewhere. Like Steph said. Number two is that it sounds like this operation has been planned for some time. So there’s some kind of timetable for pick up and delivery of whatever they've got. If I were planning something like that, I’d factor in extra time to make sure delays didn’t throw off my schedule."

She nodded. "Makes sense. What’s assumption number three? You have a three?"

"Number three follows on two; if they left extra time, we still have time to intercept that shipment."

"If we can find it."

He paced. "If I’m them, how do I stay out of sight until it’s time for the transfer to a ship off the coast?"

Selena picked it up. "Avoid populated areas and places where there’s a military presence."

"Like borders and big cities."

Selena nodded. "Yes. I’d head overland before I got to the capitol. Steph said there’s increased security here and random roadblocks on the paved roads. The coastal road is the only route north and south and one of the few that’s paved."

"Which way would you go?"

She thought about it. "North. Senegal isn’t far to the south. That means border patrols, check points. Definitely north."

"Let's look at the map."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a road map of Mauritania. She spread it out on the bed. It wasn’t much of a map. There were only a few roads in the whole country.

"How far north?" he asked. Standing next to her, he felt her heat. Her scent was strong, sweat and a hint of something darker. He stifled the urge to pull her to him. This wasn't the time for that.

"I wouldn't go all the way," she said. "Same reasons not to go south. Heavy patrols and army the closer you get to Western Sahara. Relations between Mauritania and Morocco are bad up there."

"If I wanted to sneak out to a freighter off shore, I’d keep out of sight until it was time to make the transfer. Look at these islands past this spur of land, here." He put his finger on them. "This looks like a good spot. Places to hide. Access to the ocean. The rest of the coast seems wide open, exposed."

"We’re only going to get one shot at finding them, Nick."

"We have to make a choice. I say we head there."

Selena considered the map. "Let's get Steph to task surveillance on the area. Maybe we’ll get lucky."

Carter called Stephanie and filled her in.

"I think you're right," she said. "Up north. I can get you up there fast."

"How so?"

"I've made some arrangements. We're getting cooperation from Langley. I don't know why, but I'll take it. I think they know more about that shipment than they're letting on. Anyway, you'll fly up there. You'll be met with a vehicle and weapons. You'll be picked up after you signal for extraction."

"That's outstanding, Steph."

"I'm beginning to see how Elizabeth worked these things out. Watch your ass out there, Nick." She signed off.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

It was late afternoon the same day. The plane set them down in the desert a good distance north of Nouakchott, three kilometers from the coast. Carter's false beard itched. His back was sore and stiff. He wore a loose, sand colored shirt that fell to his knees, baggy pants and a skull cap that felt tight on his head. Selena had cut his hair and dyed his skin a light brown. As long as he kept his mouth shut, he'd pass.

They were met by a black man with a Toyota pickup. He didn't give his name. Carter didn't ask for it.

"There's a security roadblock, ten kilometers north," the man told them. "Before you get there drive west to the beach and follow it north. That will get you past the checkpoint. The tide's out, you can go a long way."

They dropped him at the road, where he climbed into a waiting car and went south. They headed north five kilometers, then turned west toward the coast.

At the Atlantic they turned north again and drove along the beach. The sun sparkled off the golden expanse of the ocean. A few ships were visible on the horizon. A constant roll of long swells broke on a deserted beach that looked like a brochure of unspoiled paradise.

In almost any other part of the world, a beach like this would be lined with tourists and hotels. But not here. Here it was worth your life to sunbathe.

Carter drove and thought about Africa. The colonial governments hadn’t left much behind when they pulled out. Mostly they'd left a legacy of exploitation and deep resentment, ripe soil for the seeds of radical Islam to take root.

Selena wore her scarf over her head. She'd put on sunglasses that hid her violet eyes. Carter longed for his Ray-Bans.

There was no sign of any government or army presence. There were no people on the beach. In spite of the natural beauty, the landscape felt hostile and suspicious, as if it were waiting for something to happen. Nick figured that was what the psych doctors called projection, but it didn’t change the feeling. He put his hand on the AK stashed next to the door.

They were in Indian Country. John Wayne wasn’t coming with the U.S. Cavalry to bail them out if they were attacked.

They came to a headland jutting out into the ocean like the prow of a great liner and followed a track to the top. They stopped, got out and stretched. No one was in sight. The sun formed an orb of reddish gold descending into a bank of black cloud on the horizon. Soon the light would be gone, but for the moment the view was breathtaking.

Nick lifted binoculars and scanned the area. From where they stood he could see far up the coast. The islands and coves they thought might hide the terrorists shimmered in a twilight haze. Fishing boats dotted the waters. Shacks stood in isolated clusters along the shore. Farther along, the rusting hulks of two freighters lay half submerged in the water, a reminder that the Atlantic wasn’t always so peaceful.

"We’re close," Selena said.

"They wouldn’t choose someplace with neighbors. Our best bet is a single building, a fisherman’s shack. They need a place to park the truck. We can eliminate anything that can’t be reached easily. No steep footpaths. Take a look."

He handed her the binoculars. She looked.

"Nothing stands out." She handed them back. "We start asking questions, we’ll stir up trouble. There are a lot of shacks along there."

"Maybe Stephanie's got something."

Carter took out his phone and punched in the code. He activated the speaker.

"Nick, where are you? Wait a minute, I’ll call up your GPS." They waited. "Okay, I’ve got you. I think I know where they are."

"You do?" 

"We picked up heat signatures last night, just north of you. Six bodies, one truck, a secondary source, probably a cooking fire. You should be able to see a bay from where you’re standing. The land hooks around and comes back below you in a narrow stretch that leaves a channel out to the ocean. You’re right on top of it."

He lifted the binoculars. "I see it."

"There's a track out onto that stretch of land and a shack almost all the way to the end. It sits by itself, down near the water."

Nick scanned the bay. "I see it, Steph."

"There are no other vehicles in the immediate area. At night nothing moves there. It’s too dangerous. At the least it's a terrorist hangout. It could be them."

"Steph, we need to get out fast if there’s shooting. It will alert everyone."

"I can get the plane to you at first light, east of you. I’ll send you the coordinates. There’s nothing I can do before then. You have to get in, find out what’s in the truck and destroy it, if you think that’s right. Try and protect whatever was in the back of that cave."

"You want us to leap tall buildings too?" Carter said.

"If you need to." Stephanie's voice echoed from the other side of the ocean. "Whatever is necessary."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Al-Bausari finished the evening prayer and got to his feet. A sudden stab of pain made him gasp and clutch his side. He staggered.

"Teacher, are you all right?" One of his men scrambled to his feet and steadied him.

"I am fine, Aban. Just dizziness from standing too quickly."

Aban helped him over to a chair. Bausari gazed out the glassless window at the ocean and listened to the surf wash up on the beach. The sun was gone, the heat of the day fading. An ominous red afterglow lit the sky. A gentle breeze off the ocean brought with it the smell of salt and rotting fish.

Ghalib came into the room. "Teacher, the boat is ready."

"Good. The package? And the box from the cave?"

"Already on board."

"And the ship?"

"It is off shore. The ocean is calm. It will be an easy journey, Teacher."

"All journeys are easy with Allah’s blessing."

Al-Bausari rubbed his crippled hand. His men gathered in front of him. Aban and Ghalib would go with him. The other three would rejoin their brothers at the cave.

"Allah watches over us," Bausari said. "God willing, soon all the world will know of His Glory." He looked at the men who would  stay behind. Faithful men, warriors for the Truth. 

"I will not see you again in this life. But we will meet in Paradise."

"Ín'sh'allah," Aban said. Then he said, "Teacher, the tide."

Bausari rose. He laid his good hand on each man in blessing. He left the shack and walked to the shore without looking back.

The boat bobbed in the swell, a gray shape against the deeper dark of the ocean. Two crewmen from the freighter waited in the boat. The package sat low in the middle, a boxy, vague shape. Bausari waded through the shallow water, holding his white robe above the surf. Aban helped him into the small craft. The light was all but gone.

The boat disappeared into the gathering darkness.

CHAPTER THIRTY

It was full dark. The moon was rising, a vast orange globe on the horizon. Carter let the truck coast to a silent stop behind a cluster of rock outcroppings. The shack lay below, a hundred yards away. A weak light shone through a window. A truck with a canvas top was parked a little way from the side of the building. There was no movement about, but the light meant someone was there.

"You ready?" Carter slipped the safety on his AK.

Selena picked up her AK and tapped the magazine to make sure it was seated.

"How do you want to do it?" she said.

"Let’s get to the truck. That gives us cover and it's right next to the shack. I’ll scope out the inside through that window. If someone comes out and sees me, shoot him. That shack is made of dry wood. If we have to shoot from outside, spray the walls at waist height. These AKs will cut right through. Give them the whole magazine, reload, and we go in through the door."

"And if no one comes out?"

"Then I see what I can through the window, I come back to the truck and we think it through."

They approached through the darkness. Carter's body buzzed with adrenaline. He heard the muffled sounds of their feet on the hard ground, the surf hissing against the shore, the breeze rustling over the ocean. The faint sound of Arab music came from the shack. Overhead, stars filled the sky. If one had fallen, he would have heard it.