Caravan of Thieves by David Rich Page A

know her. She took her time and when she arrived, she was careful to make sure to let us know that despite the warm reception from Chui, we were going to receive the same gentle treatment she gave everyone. “Whaddya want today?”
    I told Shannon, “You’re safe with the omelets.” She ordered an omelet, and so did I. As soon as the waitress walked away, Chui returned with Rosa. She was crying. I got up and hugged her.
    “I’ll miss him so much, so much. He was my favorite,” Rosa said. “And I miss you so much.”
    “You were his favorite. He talked about you just before he died.”
    That turned up the tear faucet a few notches. She hugged me again and kissed me and ran away. “Excuse me a second,” I said to Shannon and I put my arm around Chui and we walked to the end of the counter where we could speak without being overheard.
    “It wasn’t good.” Chui nodded. He understood. “Did you ever know Dan under another name?”
    “I never even knew his last name until he gave me a check one time.” We both chuckled, knowing what that meant. “What’s going on? If you need help, you know…” Chui knew a lot of people in Phoenix, a lot of people with guns.
    “He owed some people some money. I’m trying to help out.”
    “You’re a good boy.”
    “Let me start here. How much was his tab?”
    “Forget his tab. I’ll start a new one for you.”
    “Chu—”
    “If you say you’re sorry again, I’ll stab you.”
    “I was gonna say there’s a blue Ford parked just down the street. Could you send someone out there to see if anyone is inside and get a description?”
    Shannon was halfway through her omelet when I sat down. We ate in silence for a while. I realized I could ditch the jeep here and have Chui’s car if I wanted it, but they would probably destroy the place in retribution. Most people would probably count that a blessing, but not Chui. Ditching Shannon was another matter. Her original version was that McColl would not want her anymore ifI knew she was working for him. But I was guessing there would be a revised version. Most people like to hang on to a job.
    She finished up and said, “You don’t ask a lot of questions.”
    “Where would you like me to drop you?”
    “I didn’t know about your father.” Maybe she didn’t, but she sure knew how to make it sound like a lie. “McColl, he doesn’t care who dies as long as he gets what he wants, so…you should know that.”
    “You mean I should be impressed.”
    “He was Third Army. That’s where I met him. I’m a medic. I was. He had started as a lieutenant in Desert Storm. Logistics. And he made a name for himself. When the buildup began for the second Gulf War, McColl didn’t want to get stuck in Qatar or some backwater. He fought hard to get a forward assignment and he got it and he nailed it. Remember how fast we got to Baghdad? Getting the supplies there was a massive operation and McColl specialized in getting his soldiers to go the extra mile. Get it done.”
    “Do you want more coffee?” I signaled the waitress and she brought over the coffeepot.
    “How about dessert?” She had warmed up. I guessed Rosa’s tears did it.
    “I’m good,” Shannon said. The waitress poured the coffee and left and Shannon started right back in, like she was determined to get something on the record, the way people do when they want to establish a lie. “McColl never cared how. Just get it done. He practically owned that airport. Of course, that meant he pissed off quite a few people along the way. Once the war felt won, his role wasn’t as important and people who were waiting to undercut him could get to work. He found out he was being transferred back home, so he retired.”
    “Aren’t you leaving something out?”
    “I don’t know how he got the money.”
    “That wasn’t what I wanted to know.”
    She understood what I wanted. “I finished my tour, worked as a nurse. In Las Vegas. It took me a while, but I finally fucked the