Free Huston, James W. -2003- Secret Justice (com v4.0)(html) by Secret Justice (com v4.0) Page B

captured.”
    Rat smiled back, amused at the image of the Jordanian being turned loose on Mazmin, who was now complaining about his medical care and his treatment at the hands of the Americans. “I thought we’d let him off easy. In fact I left him out of the report entirely. We had to hint about the guy who gave us a signal that we used to jump in. But I don’t know who’s going to get this report. His existence is above the clearance level of about ninety-eight percent of the Agency.”
    Robby flipped to another page of the report. “You didn’t mention the use of the Ultra Wide Band. That was its first tactical and combat use, unless I’m mistaken. That wall was pretty damned thick. Seems to me we ought to tell everyone how effective it was. Maybe they’ll fund it a little more.”
    Rat nodded and made a note to himself. “Think you could do a paragraph on that?”
    Robby nodded. “But I’m thinking we ought to do a separate report. Maybe an addendum, or technical report that could be attached . . .”
    “No, they’ll ask for more if they want it,” Rat replied. “Groomer? Anything?”
    “No, sir. Pretty much a textbook operation. We got Duar, we got another guy from his organization, we got the Jordanian, we got in and out of there with only one casualty—which is pretty amazing considering all the bullets flying around—and accomplished the mission. Frankly, we looked pretty good. Although I feel pretty shitty about Nubs.”
    Rat nodded and looked at those around the table. “We need to have a farewell party for Nubs.”
    There were immediate grunts of agreement.
    “A wake. We’ve got to honor him. One of the finest men I’ve ever known. Just tears me up that he got hit. Unlucky. We’ve got to invite Carrie, and have a really ripping party. Who knows her the best?”
    “I do,” Robby said. “I went to his house at least once a week.”
    “You want to talk to Carrie and see if she’s up for it?”
    “Sure. I’ll take care of the whole—”
    Suddenly Rat’s small encrypted digital cell phone rang. He was annoyed but looked at the number on the readout. “Rat,” he said, quickly putting the phone to his ear. He listened carefully. “When?” He listened again. He nodded. “Okay. Thanks for calling.” He pushed the top of the phone down onto the rest of the shaft and tossed the phone onto his briefcase.
    The others in the room waited. They knew only a few people had the number to that phone. “The guy we captured in Sudan who was in sick bay just died,” Rat reported.
    Several of the men in the conference room looked away. They were the ones who thought his treatment of Mazmin had crossed the line. They had known better than to say anything in the middle of Sudan, but now that it was over, they showed their disapproval.
    Groomer was the first to speak. “I’m pretty broken up about that,” he said, thinking instead of what Mazmin had done to Nubs. “I was thinking he and I could become close friends one day. But what got him?”
    Rat picked up the phone and slid the top up and down nervously. “Pneumonia.”
    “How the hell did he get pneumonia?” Groomer asked.
    “Probably from the water and shit in his lungs,” Rat said.
    “What difference does it make?” Banger asked. “I don’t give a shit about him, frankly. If I had the chance I’d have shot him right in the face.”
    “That captain on the ship seems to care a lot. The ship’s surgeon.”
    “Meaning what?” Banger asked. “What’s he going to do?”
    “The same thing we all did,” Rat said. “Write a report.”
    “Saying what?”
    “He did an autopsy. He’s going to say the guy died from pneumonia caused by water and foreign objects in his lungs that got infected.”
    “What foreign substances?”
    “Vomit,” Rat said reluctantly.
    “So what?” Groomer said, growing annoyed.
    “The cause of the vomit’s the problem. Doctor’s going to put in his report that he died from torture.”
    No one in the