The man hissed an expletive through his teeth, directed at Dak.
"That's not very nice." Then Dak spoke to the gunmen. "I know you can live with killing me. Apparently, you've heard some bad information, so I'm going to tell you right now I did not betray anyone. If I turned my back on my team and joined with the terrorists, why would I come here?"
The men with the weapons aimed at Dak didn't answer, but the colonel did.
"Obviously, you were sent here to infiltrate the base or perhaps initiate an attack."
Dak snorted. "With a knife? Come on, colonel. Don't be stupid." He would have never spoken to a commanding officer that way, but at this point Dak figured he was no longer a member of the United States military. So, what difference did it make? "You men with the guns. If you kill me, you'll probably sleep fine thinking you killed a traitor. I'm no traitor. But can you sleep with the fact that you also killed one of you own?" He didn't know the soldier's name in his grasp, but he shook the man so they'd understand.
If the gunmen didn't put down their weapons, the hostage was going to die.
"Put your guns down or he dies. It's that simple. Then you'll kill me. Fine. Based on what the colonel said, I may as well be dead already. But this guy," he shook the hostage again, "he's one of your own. You know he didn't do anything wrong other than being here, today. So, what's it gonna be, boys? A lifetime of sleepless nights because you let one of your own die? Or are you going to do the right thing and put those guns down?"
The colonel didn't say anything this time. He had no answer for Dak's clever positioning.
Dak could see one of the gunmen was pondering the dilemma. The other still kept probing for a clean shot, but the risk was simply too great.
"I can stand here all day, Colonel," Dak chirped. "What about you?"
The truth was, Dak's legs felt like jello. He needed food and cursed himself for not grabbing something from the kitchen at the terrorist camp, though he wasn't sure he trusted any of their food. He was weak and needed to eat, but his will kept him on his feet and focused on the problem.
"Lower your weapons," the colonel ordered. The command came smothered in derision, but there was nothing he could do. He wished he'd ordered snipers to take out the traitor from the towers, but he'd mistakenly assumed the group he'd brought out onto the desert plains would be enough.
The men let the guns fall to their hips.
"On the ground," Dak said.
The men hesitated.
The colonel made no effort to hide his irritation. "Do as he says," the colonel sneered.
Each of the armed men put their weapons on the ground and stepped back, waiting to hear the next order.
"All of them," Dak said. "Sidearms too. And Johnny, you and the other gunner get out of the truck. Take more than five seconds to get out here with the rest of us, I kill this guy."
Johnny and the gunner from the other truck did as they were told and climbed down out of the Humvees. They placed their weapons with the others and joined their unarmed comrades in a group.
"Good man, Johnny. Thank you. Now, all of you step back."
The men did as told, except the colonel, who stood defiantly where he'd been since arriving.
He also still had a gun on his hip.
Dak inched his captive forward toward the gun cache. "Colonel, your sidearm, sir."
The commanding officer's eyes burned with fury. "You're going to die for this," he seethed. "I'll make sure of it, Harper. There isn't anywhere you can go I won't find you. You'll have nowhere to hide, no one to trust. You understand me?"
Dak caught a glimpse of Johnny's eyes dart toward the colonel, questioning his comment with an unspoken stare.
The colonel unholstered his weapon and set it with the others.
"That's my problem, sir. Now, if you don't mind, join the others over there." Once the man was with the others, Dak inched his way closer to the pile of guns. When he was standing next to them, he shoved the hostage toward the group and in one fluid motion, bent down and picked up two of the pistols. He aimed one at the colonel and the other toward the first man in line. Now, do me a favor." The colonel arched one eyebrow. "Grab as many of those zip ties as you can."
Sixteen
Tatvan, Turkey
Dak stared quietly at Lake Van from his table in the back corner of the cafe. He sipped his second cup of Turkish coffee, chasing the last crumbs of baklava. A gentle breeze rolled across the lake’s crystal surface. Mount Nemrut loomed in the distance, a few strands of snow trickling down the slopes of the massive, dormant volcano.
He chose a spot in the back of the cafe where he could see every exit and entrance—a habit he figured he would never break, especially now.
He wondered what the colonel was doing at that moment, other than rubbing aloe on his sunburned face and neck. Although that was an assumption, it was one that made Dak smile, at least for a couple of seconds.
He positioned the soldiers in a circle, handcuffed to each other with the zip ties that were meant for him—along with several more sets. He kept the two Humvees between the cluster of men and the line of sight to the base in case someone was watching. Someone was always watching. It was best to operate with that mindset. To do otherwise would be sloppy, careless.
At best, Dak figured he had maybe a thirty-minute head start on any pursuers, though he doubted it took that long for anyone at the base to think something was up when there’d been a lack of
