girlfriends had been enjoying a lively birthday bash at 1789. Scott and another former Marine pilot had introduced themselves to the quartet, then hosted after-dinner cordials for the group. Later, when Scott managed to get Jackie alone, he'd invited her to go sailing. She accepted the invitation, but Scott left the following day for Buenos Aires, and during his quest to capture an international terrorist, he misplaced Jackie's name and phone number.
Scott tilted his head down. 1 hope she doesn't remember who 1 am.
"Besides speaking six languages," Prost continued, "and being an excellent markswoman, Jackie's an expert in counterterrorism and international weapons proliferation."
Scott cast a quick look at her and noticed the guarded, aloof poise she maintained. He assumed a guise of nonchalance while she eyed him with close curiosity. If she remembers, she's hiding it well.
"She's a former Air Force F-16 pilot who also flies helicopters, and she teaches a course in high-speed evasive driving."
Scott gave her a casual glance, then cleared his throat. "Okay"--he paused--"where do I fit in?"
Prost's eyes hardened and a forced smile highlighted his cheeks. "President Macklin and I would like you--working in conjunction with Jackie--to extract Maritza Gunzelman from the terrorist compound." The words came out as a challenge. "We have to know what Shakhar is really up to, find out if he's bluffing."
Scott's response was stony silence for a few seconds, followed by a slow grin. "That's a mighty tall order."
"That's why the president sent me to talk to you in person," Prost confided. "This is extremely important. Our intel--CIA, the Brits, and Mossad--indicates a flurry of activity in the Shalchar camps, but Maritza is the only operative who has firsthand knowledge of his intentions."
"It's critical," Jackie asserted. "We have to find out what Maritza has learned about Shakhar's specific plans."
Scott arched an eyebrow, but remained silent while he contemplated the scope of the operation.
"President Macklin," Prost went on, "asked me to tell you that you have carte blanche to carry out the mission."
Prost placed his hands on his knees. "Scott, we have every reason to believe that Ms. Gunzelman has critical information that is vital to our national interest. We have to know what their plans are."
Scott's eyes shifted from Prost to Sullivan.
Jackie's expression was intense. "Maritza had originally planned to disappear from the Bekaa Valley during one of her weekly trips to the marketplace. Now she isn't allowed to leave the compound."
Scott slowly shook his head. "I can't perform miracles." "She's in real jeopardy." Jackie's voice took on a sense of urgency. "We can't storm the place, and there are too many obstacles in and around the camp to risk a simple helicopter extraction."
"It sounds like a suicide mission," Scott said. "The terrorists are well armed and ruthless, but that's only part of the problem. That entire valley is a center of international drug production. The druggies and their security teams are also well armed, and they shoot at anything--and I mean anything--that threatens their billion-dollar business."
Scott paused, then smiled ruefully. "Another minor problem is the thousands of Syrian troops in the valley. Target practice is their favorite pastime, night or day."
"I'm fully aware of everything you've just mentioned," Jackie retorted with a flash of anger. "I don't know what else to say, except that I'm going after her--with or without you." Scott experienced a faint twinge of guilt.
"We really need your special skills and experience," she implored.
Scott gave her a brief nod, then turned his attention to the man responsible for coordinating the activities of the National Security Council. "I'll give it a try--on one condition."
"It's your show," Prost said, knowing how Scott operated. "You call the shots, no questions asked. Whatever you need just extract Ms. Gunzelman from the terrorist
Learning to Kill: Stories