Mike moved to the edge of the depression for a better angle. He hit the light with his first shot and then adjusted his aim toward the engine. His third shot exploded the bike’s gas tank and, in a seeming act of revenge, the machine sent a tongue of flames up toward Mike who had no time to react. Some of the flame was deflected by the plank bridge, but his left trouser leg was on fire, and he screamed in pain and shock before rolling on the ground to try to extinguish the flames.
Steve leaned the bike he was holding onto its stand and ran stumbling down the slope, taking his plastic water bottle out of his pack at the same time. He leaned over Mike’s body and poured the water on Mike’s leg extinguishing the flames. He helped Mike back to his feet and half-carried him back up the slope.
“I don’t think that he can drive this bike with that leg,” Ali said. “That’s the shifting side. You’re going to have to drive, Steve.”
As Kella tended to Mike’s leg, Steve moved closer to examine the bike. “It’s been a while,” he said. “I’m going from a Model T to an F-16. Let me have a look.” He mounted the bike and took stock of the controls.
Mike, wincing in pain, said, “Ali, help me get up on the bike in back of Steve. I’m the back seat driver. If we don’t get out of here fast, they’ll find us and we’ll all be dead.”
“Fuck the Iranians!” Ali said. “I’m the medic on this team, remember? Half an hour from here is a palm grove oasis. It’s not directly on our route but it’s a good place to take care of your leg and regroup.” Talking as he led his suffering partner toward Steve and the bike, he said, “I can’t believe you shot hot rounds into a gas tank. You must have been AWOL when they handed out brains. Sir!”
Mike smiled ruefully through the pain.
Back on the bike with Kella behind him, Ali took charge. “Steve? Mike?
Ready?”
Mike gritted his teeth and said, “Good to go.”
“Wait!” Steve exclaimed. “He felt his pack for the CDs; they were still there. “Okay, right behind you.”
For the next half hour, until he could inspect them more closely, Steve worried that the CDs might be damaged.
63. Manama
As soon as the meeting with the SEAL officer was over, Navarre looked at his watch and called his XO to tell him to oversee their departure from port. Then he texted Thérèse:
HI! JUST LEARNED FROM SEAL OFFICER THAT UR HERE. STILL IN PORT BUT LVING NEXT FEW MINS. WHY DIDNT U CALL? MISS U! B.
Within a few minutes, he received a reply:
THOUGHT U WERE ALREADY GONE. SRY. WHEN WILL U BE IN CONUS? UR SEAL IS PICKING UP 2 OF R PPL. TAKE CARE OF THEM. MISS U 2! T.
Navarre reread Thérèse’s message. When would she be back in the Continental United States? Had her emphasis been on the professional part, picking up the CIA operatives, or was the emphasis on the personal? Did she really assume that he would be gone already, or was she avoiding him? Had he been too forward? Although she had responded with a “Miss you too!” Overall, he guessed, it was positive. When could he get back to Washington?
64. Zagros Mountains
Ali was applying ointment and bandaging Mike’s leg when they both heard the thump-thump-thump sound of a helicopter’s blades. They had reached an abandoned palm grove that was off their planned route to the coast, but Ali and Mike agreed that it offered the only cover for miles. There was a pool of muddy water on their side of the grove. The geometric pattern of the tall trees told them that this had once been a commercial date plantation. However, without human maintenance, nature was doing a lousy job of it, and the vegetation in and around the palm trees made the grove’s interior practically impenetrable. The bikes were well hidden under the trees.
They watched the helicopter’s safety lights come closer. Suddenly, a bright spotlight went on, pointing its high intensity beam at the grove. The aircraft was too high for the light to be effective; but the four of them retreated further into the grove and froze. The helicopter swooped lower and circled the grove.
“They can circle until the cows come home,” Ali said. “Unless they drop off a squad of soldiers to search on foot, they’ve got a mission-impossible.” The craft seemed to be getting ready to do just that. It hovered on one side of the grove and came within a hundred feet of the ground.
“Shit!” Ali said moping sweat from his head.
Instead of landing, the chopper circled the grove again, the light searching and probing. Before it passed on their side, Ali got into a prone position and steadied his SAW’s sights on the helicopter. “Fifty yards,” he assessed. “Can’t miss,” he muttered under his breath.
Steve glanced at Mike but realized that Mike was in no shape to make decisions. He could see that the pain monopolized all of Mike’s focus. He seemed barely aware of the helicopter. Looking toward Kella, he saw that she also held her Glock pointed at the chopper.
Steve reached toward her and lowered her weapon. “Too far for a pistol shot.”
Steve turned to Ali and said, “Don’t shoot unless he lands. Give him a chance to go away.”
The pilot hovered for a minute as if a discussion was taking place inside the helicopter. An instant later, the craft took its search south, resuming its altitude.
With relief in his voice, Ali said, “They didn’t have any troops on board or
