Chapter 23Iraqi BorderThe captain moved away from what appeared to be a
dishevelled group of border jumpers, and waited while his lieutenant removed
the satellite phone from a zipper bag. Leah and I listened in to his
conversation.
“I’ve got Bagdad on the line, sir,” said the young
officer.
The captain took the phone from him and spoke quickly.
“Yes, colonel, there are ten of them. Two women, presumably one of them is
the prophet, a tall guy and seven Arabs.”
The captain nodded vigorously. “Yessir! … I would
say about four hours as they are riding camels… You’ll be there to meet
us? … Yessir!” He turned his attention to the two women and said, in
passable Arabic:
“Which of you is Bal’Ashtu?”
Bal’Ashtu stepped forward. “I am she.”
“Right,” he looked over his shoulder. “Baker,
