I of course had no idea that any of this had occurred when Tiffany and I arrived in San’a. My “friends,” Christof and Kicks Iron had made statements redolent of slander, implacable in their insistence that I was weak and uncommitted. I had been transformed into a subject of grave concern to Fahad and there I was, foisting myself off as the estimable leader of the Musket Brigade! Had I known, the humiliation would have pushed me over the top. Not because I expected to be touted as a paragon of strength, but after all, it was I who had formed the Muskets; it was I who had created the covert units that smashed the NADNARA arrays; I supported the concept of retaliatory ops against the FBI and the traitor within our ranks. I later endorsed the derailing of a train to secure technetium, even endorsed (albeit with grave concern) the smuggling of cesium and plutonium into the country. As the leader, it was not merely my prerogative, but an overriding obligation to examine and reexamine not just my own motivations, but the motivations of those associated with me. I may not have acted with the celerity Carl, Christof, and Kicks Iron thought I should, but I did act when reason compelled or their arguments were sufficiently cogent. I neither expected nor demanded their veneration, but neither would I have been able to abide such open disrespect. Being considered irresolute was already a frenetic issue with me. I probably would have insisted in disgust that I be returned with alacrity to the States. But as I said, this was all kept from me until much later. Frankly, I was surprised when Carl revealed every detail of that day’s conversations and the misdirection strategy Fahad had designed . . .after Milk Truck had gone down successfully!

After introducing Tiffany and me to Fahad and recounting our adventures during the journey to San’a, Hassan left with our guards to join Beyrouti and the others in the countryside. I had expected to be met by Beyrouti, so I was quite surprised by the introduction to a Persian cleric. I was also surprised to learn that Spritz Hogan had flow to Manila innocuously, then been routed from the Philippines to San’a through Malaysia and India! Apparently, our benefactors were so concerned with cloaking their involvement that no route seemed too convoluted to avoid any of our movements being noticed or traceable.