84

JEDDAH, SAUDI ARABIA—21 MAY

The G5 touched down at King Abdulaziz International Airport at 4:19 a.m.

Once they had taxied into an unmarked hangar and the doors were shut, Marcus and his team emerged from the plane and were greeted by officials from the GID. Then they were hustled into two armor-plated black Mercedes SUVs and whisked across the airfield to a squat, nondescript office building not far from the maintenance hangars. In short order, they were led inside the air-conditioned facility to a windowless but beautifully appointed dining room, where they were greeted by Prince Abdullah bin Rashid, the chief of the kingdom’s General Intelligence Directorate.

“Welcome, habibi, it is an honor to see you again,” the prince said to Marcus, embracing him and giving him a kiss on both cheeks. “Welcome to all of you. Please, sit down.”

The table was set for a meal with a crisp white linen tablecloth, fine china, and golden goblets. At each seat was a nameplate. Stewards in white gloves led the team members to their assigned places. The prince sat at the head of the table with Marcus immediately to his right, Jenny to Marcus’s right. They were all served hot mint tea, followed by a small cup of Arabic coffee. Then the stewards stepped out of the room, and the prince spoke again.

“His Majesty the king and His Royal Highness the crown prince both wanted me to express to you their personal greetings, as well as their condolences,” he began. “We are still reeling from the news of President Clarke’s sudden affliction. The crown prince has taken it especially hard, having just been with the president at the White House, where he seemed so vigorous and full of joy and on top of the world.”

“It has been a shock to us all,” Marcus agreed. “Please thank His Majesty and His Royal Highness for their kindness and concern.”

The spy chief then added the royal family’s condolences, and his own, for the deaths of the three American women in Yemen. It had been a week of whiplashing emotions, he noted. Marcus and his team agreed.

At this, the doors to the intimate dining room reopened, and platters of eggs and pastries and bowls of yogurt and hummus and olives and much more were brought in and served. Marcus knew how things were done in the kingdom. Relationships came first and were fostered over meals, not intelligence briefings. The specifics would come, but they would not be front-loaded. Still, Marcus couldn’t bear the thought of feasting when they should be hunting their prey.

“Your Highness, we’re all grateful for your hospitality,” he began. “But at the risk of offending you, we need to know everything you’ve learned since we were in the air.”

“Anxious to get moving, are you?” the prince said.

“We are.”

“Very well. Since you and I spoke last week, our intelligence teams have been tracking Kairos’s possible allies. On Thursday, General Entezam of the IRGC flew from Tehran to Bandar Abbas, stayed for two or three hours, and then flew immediately back to Tehran. The next day we began hearing chatter that the price on your head had doubled.”

“So it’s possible Entezam met with Abu Nakba in Bandar Abbas,” Marcus said.

The prince hesitated. “We have no hard evidence, but I think it’s very possible. Unfortunately we also believe Nakba is no longer in Iran.”

“Where do you think he went?” Marcus asked.

“It’s likely he made his way into Yemen, to oversee the executions of the American women personally. So it is very good that you are here now. I suspect you know that I spoke several times to Director Dell while you were en route?”

“Yes.”

“And that she told us it’s going to take longer than she’d expected to retask one of your spy satellites to photograph the five camps that Agent Daniels has identified? And that she did not have any drones nearby that could provide coverage of those camps? And that she asked me to provide the drones until she could move more assets into the region?”

“Yes,” Marcus said. “She called us about an hour ago. What she didn’t say was whether you’d learned anything yet.”

“As a matter of fact, we have,” the prince said. “We’ve ruled out three of the camps. No one is there. They look like they may have been abandoned several months ago. Of the other two, both have activity, but only one has a courtyard and a flagpole.”

“Seriously?” Marcus asked, his pulse quickening.

“The reason we never noticed it before is that the camp is in a very rugged section of mountains in northeastern Yemen. Not a place we’ve ever seen Houthi activity, much less Kairos. If it wasn’t for Agent Daniels, I don’t know if we would have ever noticed it.”

“Do you have live images coming from your drone now?” Jenny asked.

“Sadly, no. The drone had been operating over Aden. We redirected it the moment Dr. Dell called me. But it was running low on fuel, so we had to bring it back. It should be here in about ten minutes. Then we’ll top off her tanks and send her back out.”

“How quickly can you get us there, Your Highness?” Marcus asked.

“You can leave right after breakfast,” the prince replied. “I will order my team to make preparations and you can be on a helicopter to the southern seaport Jazan as soon as you are finished eating.”