Acts of Vengeance by Robert Gandt

Author:Robert Gandt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fa18, yemen, hornet jets, brick maxwell, kilo class sub, uss ronald reagan
Publisher: Robert Gandt

Chapter Fourteen

Sana’a

Sana’a, Republic of Yemen

1930, Tuesday, 18 June

Claire saw the battered white Toyota swinging around the corner. As Maloney rolled up to the front of the Al Qasmy, he reached over and opened the right door.

“I know a restaurant not far from here,” he said. “Off the street and quiet.” His face looked puffy, as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

She kept her silence while he weaved along the cobbled streets. Maloney, she remembered, loved intrigue. Whatever he had to tell her, he was going to milk it for its full dramatic value.

The restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall called Al-Salah, in a narrow side street about eight blocks from her hotel. The windows were curtained, and an awning covered the sidewalk in front. Half a dozen Yemenis looked up from huddled conversations as they entered. Maloney led her to a back table.

He waited until the drinks came. He looked around, then said in a low voice, “There was another airborne operation today. A team of marines went in to pick up a downed pilot, but they came under fire and now they’re on the ground too.”

Claire listened, barely able to breath. “You said something about the lucky guy.”

“Another Hornet was shot down supporting the marines.”

She took a deep breath and waited.

Maloney said, “What was your guy’s name?”

“Maxwell. Sam Maxwell.”

He hesitated, and she could tell by his expression what was coming. “Claire, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s the guy.”

“Is he. . .”

“No details. They think he ejected okay, but no word yet about his situation.”

Claire’s mind raced through the possibilities. They think he ejected okay. If he was alive, he may have joined the marines on the ground. Or he was captured.

Or killed.

As these thoughts played in her mind, the anger swelled up inside her. “What the hell’s going on, Vince?” She knew she was speaking too loudly. The cluster of Yemeni men across the room looked up in surprise. They had probably never heard a woman raise her voice in anger. “Why are they letting this. . . this half-assed little bandit, Al-Fasr, get away with this? Why don’t we—”

“Sshshh.” Maloney was holding his finger to his lips, looking more nervous than ever. He nodded toward the Yemeni men. They had all halted their own conversations and were staring at them.

Claire turned and glowered back. “To hell with them,” she said. She swung back to Maloney. “To hell with all of them. Since when does the United States have to cowtow to thugs who kill Americans?”

Maloney’s nervousness ratcheted up another notch. “Look, Claire, I know how you feel. This is a very dangerous situation we’re in—”

“Dangerous for who? Are you state department people afraid you might lose your precious little jobs if you speak up? What about those Americans out there in the hills getting shot at by—” she paused and glowered again at the gawking Yemenis— “a bunch of stone age ragheads.”

At this, Maloney winced. She knew she sounded hysterical, but right now she didn’t give a damn.

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