chance of bluffing their way past tonight. The soldiers would be under orders to apprehend any foreigner they saw.
Or shoot them.
“Easiest thing to do is take a boat,” said Guns when they stopped to discuss it. “We can grab one near the water. It’s either that or walk up the railroad tracks.”
“Tracks are safer,” said Rankin.
“It’s ten kilometers,” said Guns.
“It’s not that far.”
“I think we ought to steal a boat,” said Thera. “It might come in handy later on.”
“If we’re in a boat, we have no place to hide from a patrol. The Syrians have a navy. They’ll be running up and down the coast.”
“It’s a risk,” said Guns. “But so’s walkin’.”
“I say we walk.” Rankin got out of the car, reaching into the back and taking his pack.
Thera and Guns looked at each other. “I think he’s just tired,” said Guns.
“He’s going to be even more tired when we get up there.”
Ferguson planned to go south along the main road, cut across the railroad tracks, and then go down the beach about a half mile to an old jetty, where a small rigid-sided inflatable boat had been stowed as part of their emergency escape package. But as they reached the tracks he heard a train whistle and got a much better idea.
“Here comes our ride, boys,” he yelled to Monsoon and Grumpy. “Got your tickets?”
“We need tickets?” said Grumpy, his timing so perfect it sounded rehearsed.
“I can tell you’re a marine. Ravid, you’re with me.” Ferguson pointed to a spot to their right. “He’ll come around the bend down to our left and start up the hill here. It’s not too steep, but it should slow him down. Don’t lose your packs. If we get split up, drop off up near the hotel, Cote d’Azure de Cham.”
“How will we know it?”
“It’s the first big building you’re going to see once we’re out of town. Big building,” Ferg told him. “Come on. We have to cross the tracks so we won’t be seen from the road.”
The train was loaded with empty automobile carriers and going faster than he’d thought, but not so fast that they couldn’t jump it. They spread out and Monsoon went first, followed by Grumpy, who pulled himself up against one of the support beams.
“Let’s go Ravid,” yelled Ferguson, pulling the Israeli agent up from his crouch.
“I don’t know if I can.”
Ferguson gave him another push. Ravid picked up his speed, swung his hand tentatively, then finally grabbed on to the ladder at the rear of one of the cars. Ferguson waited until he was sure he was on, then turned and grabbed hold of the ladder of the next car. He swung his feet up, hung off for a moment, then flattened against the train as it headed under a highway overpass.
The train swung out toward the Mediterranean, then banked back inland. There were troops posted at several of the road intersections as they passed, and others down by the river.
Ferguson worked his way over to Ravid.
“How far?” asked Ravid.
“Six or seven miles,” said Ferguson. “Be there in no time. How’d you know where to find us?”
“I didn’t.”
“Why didn’t you guys tell us you were alter Meles? Wo could’ve helped.”
Ravid said nothing, he had narrowed everything down to the space immediately in front of his eyes; he knew nothing beyond that. For the next twenty-four hours — for eternity if he had to — he would focus only on that space.
“You come to me so I can drag your butt out of here in one piece, and you’re going to be ungrateful?” said Ferguson.
“I didn’t come to you for anything.”
“Jump off the train then.”
Ravid stared at him, but made no move to get off.
An old Russian army truck sat near the front of the hotel when Ferguson got there, but he couldn’t see any soldiers.
That didn’t mean some weren’t around, but he guessed that if there had been a decent-sized contingent they would have at least set up a checkpoint in and out of the hotel and probably stopped traffic through the local tourist area as well. Not that there was much traffic at five o’clock in the morning.
Ferg didn’t see Rankin’s car in the parking lot. He left the others outside and went into the building through a service entrance near the back. Walking through the back hall, he checked the stairwells and then came out into the lobby as if he were a guest on his way out to a morning appointment. On the way out he spotted a soldier who’d presumably come with the truck sipping from a ceramic coffee cup and chatting with the nightman at the desk.
The car still hadn’t shown up. Ferguson walked to the side of the building and pulled out his sat phone to check in with the Cube. Instead of Corrigan he got Lauren.
“Hey, beautiful, what happened?” he asked her. “Corrigan had a date?”
“No, he went down to talk to Slott at Langley. The Mossad connection has everybody torqued.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty torqued myself.” He glanced at his watch. “How’s the Dayliner doing?”
“We can pick you up within a half hour. Just say when.”
“You know where Rankin is?”
“He just checked in. They’re two kilometers from the hotel.”
“Are they crawling?”
“They ran into trouble with patrols. They walked up the train tracks.”
“Skippy.” Ferguson shook his head. Rankin was dependable, extremely good with his hands, and a dead shot but very cautions. Ferg glanced at his watch. “All right. Let’s say six-thirty on the pickup, Get me a room somewhere, will you?”
“A room?”
“Yeah, I’ve never been much for sleeping on the beach.”
“Slott wants you out. Corrine, too.”
“Uh-huh. You know what? Make it the Versailles. I like the view from their beach.”
“What’s going on, Ferg?”
“I’ll tell you when I figure it out.”
Ferguson found the others sitting on rocks near the water, looking very much like day laborers waiting for the start of work. He told them that their boat was on its way, then went down to the sea, where he dipped his hand into the surf and used it to down his pills. The tang of the salt felt good and he splashed some over his face and hair.
“Stuff’ll kill you,” said Monsoon.
“If I’m lucky,” said Ferg.
“You want me to go find Rankin?”
“Nah, they’ll find their way. How’s our guest?”
“He wants to leave,” Monsoon said, thumbing toward Ravid. “I told him not to while you were gone. I promised to break his legs if he did.”
“A promise is a promise,” said Ferguson. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and you’ll get to keep it.”
He climbed up the shoreline to where Ravid was sitting. The Israeli narrowed his eyes as he approached, watching him the way a hawk might focus on a mouse in a field before pouncing.
“What’s your story?” asked Ferguson. “You don’t want to be rescued?”
“I haven’t been rescued. I told you, I didn’t want to go with you.”
“There’s a Syrian inside having a cup of coffee. You want me to turn you over to them?”
Ravid didn’t even bother answering. He stared ahead, intent on his course.
“How’d you know where we were?” asked Ferguson.
