something.”
“No ranks, sir,” Jerry heard Ramey’s emphasis on the last word. “We can’t leave any trace of our presence. A piece of an MRE package would be a dead giveaway we were here. Please police the area carefully. The only thing I’m willing to leave behind is our footprints, and I wish I could avoid that.”
“Right,” Jerry replied, being careful to keep his voice neutral. “Did you find a place?”
“It’s about a kilometer from here, but it’s ideal. It’s a small cave, but it’s big enough for all of us. It’s got overhead cover and has a good view of the approaches.”
The SEALs went to work hiding the car. Each carried a section of camouflage netting. They combined these into a single piece large enough to cover the car, then added brush and rocks to break up its outline.
Yousef and Shirin stood to one side. She was leaning on him, and although their expressions were hard to see, his arms encircled her protectively. Jerry could also sense defensiveness in his posture, his watchfulness of not only the activity with the car, but the other SEALs as well. He didn’t trust them, not yet anyway.
Ramey took his time to step back and check their work from several directions, but they were still done in a few minutes. “Let’s get away from here,” he ordered over the headset. “Diamond formation.”
Jerry and the two Iranians were quickly corralled in the center of the formation, following Ramey. The other SEALs screened to the back, and both sides. They set off at a brisk pace, but had to slow when first Jerry, then Shirin, stumbled on the uneven surface. Grudgingly, Ramey promised to follow a smoother path.
There was enough starlight to see the ground, but not enough to reveal every obstacle. Yousef was especially solicitous toward his wife after her near fall, but she waved him off.
It was impossible to gauge distance in the dark. Jerry thought of counting footsteps, but his stride across the landscape was too irregular. He decided it would be best to just concentrate on watching Ramey ahead of him and picking his footing based on how he moved.
How far was a kilometer? Better than half a mile. In the dark? On an unfamiliar landscape? After a bone- chilling hour-long swim? He definitely hadn’t planned on this when he’d gotten up this morning. He was breathing hard, and felt like he’d already run miles.
He wasn’t the only one showing signs of fatigue. Shirin was moving more slowly, now leaning heavily on Yousef. The SEALs seemed unaffected by the evening’s intense physical activity.
Jerry marveled a little when he thought about the husband. A captain in the Pasdaran. They were supposed to be Iran’s shock troops, politically reliable and completely devout. What had turned him against his own service?
He tried to focus on the plan. They’d hole up tonight and tomorrow, then
Ramey motioned for Lapointe to go ahead; he ran to the cave and did a quick inspection. Jerry heard his report in his headset. “It’s still clear, Boss.”
A low line of hills loomed ahead, and they retraced the SEALs’ earlier path. Turning right toward a high bank, then following it back, they came to a place where Lapointe stood next to a large shadow on the side of the bank.
“Pointy, take the first watch, everyone else inside.” After giving the order, Ramey led the way. Once he was inside, he turned on his flashlight.
Shirin was surprised by the intensity of the beam. It seemed like a big red floodlight to her night-adjusted eyes, and she turned to see if it revealed their position. But the beam was directed into the cave, and little of the light was reflected back out.
When her eyes adjusted, she saw a space a little smaller than their bedroom. It was larger than she expected, but she hadn’t spent a lot of time in caves. Water had eaten away the earth under a layer of rock, so the cave had a relatively flat, but rough ceiling. The floor was hard-packed sand with a band of pebbles running down the center, almost a gravel path.
Farther inside, Yousef was arranging a blanket for her to sit on. Suddenly she felt very tired, almost dizzy. With a small moan, she gratefully sank onto the spot, leaning back against the wall.
The Americans all turned at the sound, and Fazel asked in Farsi, “Are you all right?” When she didn’t reply, he turned to Yousef. “Is your wife ill?”
Yousef, still helping Shirin sit comfortably, answered, “Not sick. She’s pregnant.”
The medic quickly knelt down beside her. One hand was on her wrist, taking her pulse. The other found her forehead. “How many weeks?”
“Nineteen,” she answered almost automatically. She could see Yousef starting to protest. Normally such things were not discussed with strangers, but the American had medical training, and at least he spoke Farsi. Calming her husband with a hand on his arm, she said, “I’m just tired.”
“I’m glad the walk wasn’t any longer,” the medic remarked. “You probably need something to eat, and please drink as much of that water as you can.” He indicated the bottle Yousef was holding. “We’ll make sure you have plenty of water.”
Unslinging his pack, he pulled out a small square, which unfolded to a drab green thermal blanket. “Here. It will cool off tonight.” Shirin noticed Yousef scowling, and so did the American. He offered the blanket to her husband, who took it with a polite “Thank you.”
Yousef covered her and tucked the edges in around her. Although it felt light and flimsy, she felt warmer almost immediately, and drowsy. She closed her eyes as the warmth embraced her.
Yousef watched Shirin for a few minutes, peacefully asleep, then noticed the American medic doing the same thing on the other side. “I can take care of my wife,” he said sharply.
“Of course,” the American replied coldly. “But her welfare affects all of us, and we don’t want to do anything that would endanger her and the baby.”
“Isn’t it a little late for that?” Yousef asked angrily. “We’re hiding in a cave waiting for a boat to pick us up because you couldn’t keep your submarine from catching fire.”
“Our comrade died in that fire — coming here because you asked us to.”
Yousef shook his head. “It’s not my fault he died, and I’m not the person you’re here to rescue. You can’t get anything right.” He smiled at the American’s confusion, then pointed to his peacefully sleeping wife. “She’s the one who has given you so much information. Shirin is an engineer at the Natanz Uranium Enrichment Facility.” There was passion in his voice, and the words fell from him.
“She’s risked her life for years collecting information on my country’s nuclear weapons program and sending it to your government. It’s not because we love America. I don’t believe America is our enemy, but you haven’t been our friend either. She was disgusted at how Iran has lied about making a bomb, and the waste of money and talent that have been spent on the program.”
“What about you? You are Pasdaran. Surely — ”
“My reasons are personal, and just as strong as hers. I won’t betray my country, but we should not have nuclear weapons. They are un-Islamic.”
“We won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t even have to stay with us, if you think your chances are better on your own.”
“No. We want to leave Iran any way we can.” Yousef was firm. He tilted his head toward Shirin. “She doesn’t want to go back to Natanz, no matter what. And neither of us want to go to Evin Prison.”
The American nodded. “My parents told me stories about that place, both before and after the Revolution. And about the Pasdaran. The Basij beat my uncle until he was a cripple. The Revolutionary Guards seized my father’s business and drove my parents from their home.”
Yousef wanted to say it was all lies, American propaganda, but he knew the stories were true- about Evin, and the Pasdaran’s zealous cruelty. He’d been a good soldier, but the Pasdaran was corrupt. They had their fingers in civilian businesses all over Iran, and he’d heard how the generals lived, more like rich executives than soldiers of the Revolution. He was unwilling to agree with the American, but could not argue. In the end, Yousef said nothing.
“I have to tell the others,” Harry explained, and stood.
While Fazel had been taking care of Shirin, the others, with a few words from Ramey, had worked to improve their position. Jerry and Phillips camouflaged the cave mouth, while Ramey and Lapointe prepared firing positions,
