Page 22 of The Dauntless (Spy Girl 5)
Lorenzo wants to turn the television off, but maybe, like Lizzie, he deserves to see this. Deserves to suffer. He could have stood up to his mother and canceled the press conference. He could have told the world that there was only one girl he loved. And he should have.
And not doing so is the biggest regret of his life.
“Look at this ring, people!” the announcer continues. “Don’t Huntley and Daniel look so happy? Like, I swear, they are so sweet together. It just makes my cheeks hurt. And it’s so wonderful that she found love so soon after having her heart broken by the King of Montrovia.”
Lorenzo isn’t smiling as he takes in the photo. Daniel has one arm wrapped around Huntley’s shoulder, and he’s leaning down, kissing her forehead. Huntley is wearing a fitted yet demure ivory knit dress with red-and-navy ribbon trim and neck bow, her long tan legs showcased by a pair of ornate but sensibly-sized square-heeled shoes. Her eyes are closed, there’s a smile on her face, and her hand is resting on Daniel’s chest, showing off the ring. The tenderness in Daniel’s gesture is seemingly more powerful than a stupid kiss would have been.
He leans back in his chair with a sigh and presses the off button.
Peter, Viktor, and myself leave just after midnight DC time and arrive at a military base not far from Baghdad late in the evening the next day. Not surprisingly after the whirlwind of activity yesterday, the three of us slept for much of the thirteen-hour flight.
I look down at the engagement ring on my left hand because something Daniel said last night gave me pause, but with all the congratulations, it was gone. And probably because of the guilt I feel. I shouldn’t have this ring on my finger. I’m not American royalty.
And the ring I should be focused on right now is Dupree’s. And what message the video game was trying to give me about it.
Like the engagement ring Daniel gave me, does this ring also seal the deal?
Is the ring literally a key? Or is it a metaphorical key that allows you entry to some elite rule-the-world boys’ club? And does Black X know I have Dupree’s ring, or do they want me to go get it?
Either way, this is my chance to figure out what my mother discovered when she was here. Really, it’s the missing piece of the whole puzzle.
“All right, Huntley,” Viktor says after we land, “we don’t want to freak you out, but Iraq still isn’t a particularly safe place. Kidnapping and other crimes you want no part of. Don’t go off base for a run or anything.”
“Are we not going to the TerraSphere now?” I ask, anxious to get there.
“No, we’ll spend the night here,” Peter explains, “and leave first thing in the morning. When we have daylight.”
“And a private security detail.” Viktor grins.
“Is that really necessary?” I ask. “You’d think all that would do is prove to bad guys that we are worth protecting.”
Viktor squishes up his face in confusion.
Peter seems to carefully consider his response. “It’s what my dad does when he comes here, so we’re going with that.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I say with a grin.
MISSION:DAY ELEVEN
We have a quick breakfast at the base, meet our two-man security team—Dale and Steve—and are taken to their armory.
We’re each given a handgun with a spare clip and shown to a Toyota Land Cruiser.
“Don’t let the cool morning air fool you,” Steve, our driver, says. “It’s going to be one hundred ten degrees, bone dry, with no chance of rain. The sun will set at nineteen hundred hours. We’ll want to be back here well before then.”
“Are you active military?” Peter asks as we take off for the TerraSphere.
There’s not much to see once we leave the base, mostly just a sandy dirt road with little grass or vegetation.
“Retired civilian contractors. We provide security for corporate visits like this. Not nearly as exciting as active duty, but it’s a whole lot safer, and the pay’s better.”
“So, we really don’t need you?” Peter asks. “It’s just to make us feel better?”
“Now, I wouldn’t say that,” Dale replies from the backseat where he’s sitting with me and Viktor. “Iraq as a whole is still a war zone. Some areas are safer than others, but there are threats of violence and kidnapping to both civilian and military personnel from the numerous terrorist and insurgent groups. Our job is to constantly monitor the situation. Most of the roadside and car bombs are detonated in major cities. Luckily, we’re out in the middle of nowhere with a military base close by. And it’s a short trip. Only thirty miles. Should take us about forty minutes. We haven’t had any incidents in the last couple of years between here and the Sphere.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way,” Viktor says, but he doesn’t look convinced. He’s quite tense.
“But just in case,” Steve says, “this Land Cruiser is armored.”
I’m listening to their conversation and idle chatter, but I’m also doing what I was trained to do—looking for ways in which we are vulnerable. Places we could be attacked, which, at this point, would be from the air—not likely. We could be overtaken by another vehicle—possible, if there were more than one or they were more heavily armed. From what I can tell, each of our guards has a grenade, an automatic weapon, and a pistol.
Peter has his head on a swivel, taking in the mountains, chittering about the terrain, asking a million questions about sandstorms and combat. Viktor is quiet, like me, his eyes glued to the road but his leg bouncing up and down in nervousness.
Dale asks if we have studied the conflict here in Iraq. Peter shakes his head.
“It sounds like you need a little history lesson then. In January 1991, there was Operation Desert Storm. With United Nations approval, we attacked Baghdad because Saddam Hussein had invaded Kuwait. During the war, Hussein also fired missiles at Israel and Saudi Arabia, so we brought in Patriot missiles to help defend them. The war was one of the most spectacular and massive air offensives in history. To finish it off, General ‘Stormin’ Norman’ Schwarzkopf started a stunning ground campaign that lasted only four days before the war was over. From start to finish, the war lasted about six weeks.
“While the Gulf War was a brilliant and decisive victory, both Kuwait and Iraq suffered enormous damage, and we hadn’t forced Hussein from power. I suppose, in retrospect, that was a mistake because the man was brutal to those within his own country, specifically the Kurds in the north and the Shiites in the south, who were uprising against the regime. We didn’t support those uprisings, afraid that the whole Iraqi state would fall and really destabilize the region, not that we left it stable to begin with. Even though there was a peace treaty, US and British aircraft continued to patrol the skies while Iraq continued to defy United Nation’s weapon inspectors. As an added insult, Iraqi military often exchanged fire with coalition aircraft.
“Finally, in 2002, the United States sponsored a new UN Resolution to get weapon inspectors back in Iraq. The coalition didn’t believe that Iraq had complied with the inspections and showed their hand by amassing forces on Iraq’s border.
“In March 2003, President Hillford issued an ultimatum to Saddam Hussein, demanding that he give up power and leave the country within forty-eight hours, under the threat of war. Hussein refused, and three days later, the second Persian Gulf War began. It’s interesting though, what Hillford did.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, suddenly more interested after the mention of Hillford’s name.
“He issued the ultimatum without getting approval from the United Nations, and before the ultimatum, the UN chief warned the US and its allies that military action would violate the UN charter, suggesting what Hillford did was illegal. The UK and the US, however, claimed that it was legal because Hussein was in breach of earlier security council resolutions, calling for him to give up weapons of mass destruction. Up here, you will see one of the sites that was believed to house those weapons, although none were ever found there.”
> We’re a little over halfway into our journey when we pass the ruins of a place that was bombed and abandoned. There are random bits of fabric, wood, cement, bricks, and metal creating the piles of rubble.
“There it is,” Dale says. “One of the early targets. Supposedly one of Saddam’s palace retreats. Work began on the Sphere soon after.”
“Amazing, what our military can do,” Peter replies patriotically.
I realize I might be more like my father than I think. Because all I see is destruction. I wonder how many people were hurt. How many lives destroyed. And I can’t help but wonder if it was targeted simply because it was here, on the thirty-third parallel, where they wanted to build the TerraSphere.
I think about the timing of it all. The year I was born, Hillford became president, and Ares did his presentation to the group of ten and was given the ring. Hillford was reelected four years later, and two years into that term, he issued the ultimatum and bombed this very spot, securing the Sphere’s location and getting the government to pay for its construction, just like he’d promised years before.
“Are you saying that the construction of it started during the war?”
“Yep. I was stationed at the base, and it was a hive of activity. Construction equipment and materials were flown in, and armed, escorted military trucks brought supplies from all over.”
“What were they bringing in?” I ask, suddenly wondering if the treasure Daniel saw when he logged in as me to play Battleground might be real.
I remember my visits to the museums in London and Paris, struck by how many of the priceless artifacts were “procured” during their colonization periods.
Did this secret group use the cover of war to do the same, but instead of taking it out of the country, they buried it under the Sphere?
“A lot of it was from Saddam’s palaces or other opulent estates of his elite party members. I heard that more than seven hundred fifty million dollars was discovered, hidden all over.”
“And where did the money go?”
“Back to the Iraqi people, of course,” he says.
“Of course,” I repeat, realizing, to billionaires like Hillford and McClellan, Saddam’s hidden cash was just a drop in the bucket. Certainly not enough to start a war over. And certainly not enough to start a new world order with.
What were they taking there?
We arrive at the Sphere without incident and are dropped off at the front gate where we are met by a beautiful, dark-skinned woman dressed in a smart business suit.
