They could hear the helicopter before they could actually see it. Gideon Laner turned to his second-in- command. “You have the charges placed, Yossi?”
Eiland nodded. “The FAVs are rigged for command-detonation. Hanged if I’m blowing them till I know that chopper’s ours.”
Gideon smiled. “Good work.”
A moment later, the small helicopter appeared over the ridge, settling down into the valley floor. “Time to go,” he announced, glancing over at the man they had come so far to rescue.
“You have to go back for them,” the archaeologist whispered, desperation visible on his face.
Gideon stared at him. “I’ve told you before. There is no room for them in the helo. We were sent to rescue
The archaeologist’s face hardened suddenly, a look of steel coming into his eyes. “Curse you.”
“All right, team,” Gideon ordered, ignoring Tal’s sudden stubbornness. “Let’s get loaded up.”
A man ran out from the hovering chopper, the rotor wash whipping at his flight uniform. “RAHAB?”
“Yes,”Gideon replied. “Thanks for meeting us.”
“Get your men onboard and let’s get out of here!” the man yelled, striving to make himself heard over the rotors. “The Iranians are out in force tonight.”
“Roger that, RAVEN.”
“Tex, Davood, stay here and get these people prepped for evac,” Harry ordered, standing in the door of the trailer. “Hamid, you’re coming with me.”
“Where to, boss?” the Iraqi asked, moving swiftly to Harry’s side.
“Search the rest of the camp,” was the curt reply. “The Iranians didn’t bring these bio-war trailers all the way out here to improve the aesthetics of the place. There was a reason. Be prepared.”
“Aye, aye.”
“The uplink is ready,” Ron Carter stated, his voice coming over Kranemeyer’s open line. It was on speaker. The DCS set down a cup of now-cold coffee and turned to his computer.
“It should connect you directly with Nichols and override the vibrator on his TACSAT, creating a loud buzz.”
“Doesn’t that pose the risk of compromising him?”
“Actually,” the analyst replied, his voice tired, “that’s what we’re counting on. That he will pick up quickly to minimize the damages. He’s ignored the vibrator. This he can’t afford to ignore. He’ll pick up.”
“I don’t like this, Ron.”
“Neither do I, boss. But you gave me a deadline. This was the only solution I could get done in time. You should have pulled one of Lasker’s boys off the comm center to run this thing. They’re more familiar with the TACSAT and might have found something more sophisticated.”
“We’ve been through that, Ron,” Kranemeyer replied wearily. “Patch me through to the uplink.”
“Streaming it to your terminal. You’ll have it in thirty seconds.”
“Thanks.”
Harry and Hamid paused by one of the bodies outside the trailer. “You suppose there’s any survivors?” Harry asked, looking around him. Whoever had preceded them, they had done a good job.
Hamid shook his head. “I very much doubt it.”
Harry’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at one of the corpses. There was something, maybe it was way he lay there-he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
“And maybe not,” he whispered, stepping over and shining his taclight full on the body. The man lay on his belly in the sand, a nasty wound in his back. To all appearances, he was dead…
He bit his lip, fighting against the urge to scream as the American abruptly kicked him in the stomach, the impact rolling him over on his back. His only hope was to play dead. His eyes were closed, but he could feel the American’s gaze on him, sharp and penetrating.
A pair of hands came down, gliding smoothly over his cheek. Gentle as the caress of a lover.
The fingers slid down until they were touching the very end of his jawbone, pressing suddenly up and inward.
He screamed, pain greater than anything he had ever known shooting through his entire body. When he opened his eyes, he was looking down the barrel of a pistol, into the cold blue eyes of the man behind it.
“Tell me,” the man instructed, speaking his native Farsi, “who took the doctor?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying,” Harry informed him coldly, pushing in on the pressure point again. The soldier screamed, his head rolling back in the sand. “What happened to the doctor? Just tell me and the pain will stop.”
The man was gasping for breath and his first words were incoherent. Then, “…they took him-away. About twenty minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know!”
Harry reached up and slapped him across the cheek with the back of his hand. “That’s the second time you’ve lied to me, soldier. Do it again and you’re dead.”
“You-you did.”
“I’ve never been here before.”
The soldier’s eyes flickered with disbelief. “Of course. You hit the camp, killed the perimeter sentries-shot me…”
“We’re losing him, boss,” Hamid whispered quietly. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”
At that moment, Harry’s TACSAT went off, a loud buzz resounding through the night air. He reached to his waist and plucked it from its holster.
“Nichols here,” he answered, watching as the screen lit up with Kranemeyer’s code.
“Where the devil are you?” came the director’s first question.
“In the base camp. Dr. Tal is not here. Repeat, is not in the area. We have one prisoner and he’s saying a Western-style assault team stormed the camp under half an hour ago and took Dr. Tal but left three of the archaeologists. Do we have sat coverage?”
“Yes, Harry. We do.”
“Then what’s going on?”
The DCS didn’t respond directly. His next words came in the form of an order. “Get the archaeologists packed up and moving. Make for the alternate extraction zone, LZ Oscar. Orders from the seventh floor.”
“Copy that. LZ Oscar. Be advised, boss, we have lost contact with Parker.”
“What?”
“He was cut off trying to provide covering fire on our egress from the Iranian ambush. It’s a long story, but he’s out there somewhere.”
“If he’s still alive.”
“Yes, sir, if he’s still alive. I’m going to try to contact him before we leave the base camp.”
“Forget it, Harry. We need those archaeologists back here, on the double. Parker will have to conduct E amp;E on his own.”
