Just as Song Heping's convoy left Mosul, heading north toward the Iraq-Turkey border in Dahuk Province, in the Tulip Hotel in Baghdad Green Zone, Robbin stood in front of the suite's floor-to-ceiling window, silently watching the bustling traffic below.
The door opened, and Lemont walked in.
"You want to see me?" Lemont walked to the bar, poured himself a glass of water: "What can't be said over the phone?"
"It's safer to talk face-to-face." Robbin turned around: "Song Heping has returned to Mosul."
Lemont's hand paused briefly with the glass: "Isn't he in Washington?"
"He came back two days ago." Robbin moved to sit by the sofa, "Spotted this morning outside the Balad Base in the outskirts of Mosul. My men saw him enter the arms warehouse."
Lemont was silent for a few seconds, took a sip of ice water and said: "What are you trying to say?"
"I mean—" Robbin stared into Lemont's eyes: "You know what's in the warehouse?"
Lemont: "Say it, it's the previous shipment, right?"
