Laughter.
McManus looked like he was about to say something. He apparently thought the better of it and shut his mouth.
“If it makes you feel any better, she trusts you, O’Neal.” Shields sat at her station. “She feels safe with you. That came through loud and clear.”
That knowledge settled on Connor’s shoulders like a weight.Hewas in charge this time, not Tower, not Javier Corbray, not Nick Andris. Whatever happened here washisresponsibility.
Connor looked around at his team. “I need answers, people. We’re supposed to drive to Kutupalong tomorrow. An RPG might not be able to take down a bird at cruising speed, but it sure as hell can fuck up a vehicle.”
“Postpone it,” Segal suggested. “Tell Ms. Lahiri that until we have answers, it’s just too hot.”
Shields shook her head. “Oh, no. Don’t even try. Her exact words were, ‘If Naing thinks he can scare me into giving up, he’s dead wrong.’ She is tougher than she looks.”
Connor knew there was steel in Shanti’s spine. He’d seen it this morning in her meeting with Khan. But being tough couldn’t stop a grenade. “Shields, analysis.”
“I might have one for you if you hadn’t sent me to play therapist.” Shields logged into their secured network. “Give me an hour.”
Connor looked around at the others. “We don’t have a lot of options. We can fly in, or we can drive, and unless Ms. Lahiri is successful and we get that drone permit, we’ll be going in blind. I want a plan on the table in fifteen minutes.”
He started for the door.
“Where are you goin’?” McManus asked.
“To see if Ms. Lahiri has had any luck.” In truth, he just wanted to see her.
He left the ops room and walked down the hallway to where the Dynamic Duo—Jones and Cruz—stood watch.
“Hey, O’Neal,” Jones called. “They catch ’em?”
“The bastards jumped into the river.”
Cruz swore under his breath. “If I’d had my rifle, I could have taken them out.”
“If you had, we’d be up to our necks in shit.”
Cobra was in Bangladesh with the permission of its government. They couldn’t shoot fleeing enemies in the back. The rules of engagement for private security work were very different from military service.
Connor knocked on Shanti’s door, waited.
She answered, cell phone to her ear, and motioned him inside. “You understand that if I am killed, it will bring global attention to my investigation. The fact that Cobra has requested a permit for a small observational drone is already a matter of record. If the government in Dhaka continues to delay, especially after what happened today, some might wonder whose side they were on—the ICC’s or Myanmar’s.”
So, Shanti was playing hardball.
Connor sat on the sofa and watched while she argued with Khan, determination on her face. She must be something to see in a courtroom.
She walked to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of water, held it up.
Connor nodded.
She brought it over to him. “Forgive me for being so direct, Doctor Khan, but I wasn’t raised here, as you know. When one of my clients is in dire need, I do all I can to help them, regardless of how rude I might seem. NowI’mthe one in need. If that helicopter had been shot down today, I wouldn’t have been the only one killed. The UN project manager was on the helicopter, too, along with my security team and the pilot. What would you have said to my father, to officials in Washington, to the UN?”
She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, clearly not getting the answer she wanted. “Yes, sir. Thank you. I appreciate whatever help you can give.”
She ended the call, sank onto the sofa next to him. “He said he’d try.”
“Fingers crossed then.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. My father says that when a Bangladeshi official says they’lltry, it’s often a polite way of saying ‘no.’”