Run With The Brave (19 page)

Shit
. “Patrol, coming our way with a fucking dog,” he spat at the others, huddled below. “Sure to sniff us out.”

“How many and how far away?” shot Shiron.

“Three… about seventy yards.”

“Take'em now,” Shiron urged.

“We shoot, it'll echo for miles and we'll have the whole fucking garrison down on us,” Hellmann quickly responded.

“What else do you suggest then, Corporal – give ourselves up?” Shiron shot back,

Ryder knew that to eliminate this patrol would end any further searching for a base and they all would be lucky to escape to the Gulf alive, but he had no choice. Moving out from the crevasse he went up around the rocks on the blind side, followed by the others. He prayed they were upwind; if not, the dog would, any second, catch their scent.

The patrol was now less than thirty yards away.

Leaning against the outcrop to steady their aim, the four raised AK47s, released safety-catches and lined up the targets; Ryder the dog; the others, a man apiece.

Ryder was about to squeeze the trigger when the patrol suddenly stopped in its tracks. The leader turned and said something to those behind before raising his binoculars and scanning the lower slopes; something had caught his eye.

With gunsight trained on the dog's head, Ryder waited tensely.

Moments later he grew curious, put the rifle aside and raised binoculars to look down the slope in the same direction. On the road bisecting the valley, well away in the distance, the lenses found a large military truck with a flashing blue light. Milling about the vehicle were a number of armed men;
fuck, reinforcements.
But he need not have worried. The leader put away his binoculars and the three-man patrol turned and began to descend the slope, every step taking them further away. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was close,” said Shiron, forcing a thin smile. “Looks like a timely end to their shift; another few seconds and they would've been dead.”

“Yeah,” muttered Ryder. “So would we if a firefight had happened with that lot down there.” He nodded towards the twenty or so men spreading away from the truck and from where they hid.

When the patrol eventually disappeared out of sight, the four left the outcrop, Ryder focused more now on what lay ahead instead of upwards at the mountain. However, he did make a point of looking again at the unusual rock formation under the long overhang, but cloud, once more, prevented him from seeing it. With Fehed leading and himself in the rear they eventually arrived at the spur early in the afternoon without a hitch.

They settled in the dugouts just below the level of the ridge with an unobstructed view of the rock face where it joined the spur. This would be home for the next four days and Ryder hoped the weather would be kind. Making himself as comfortable as possible in the bleak conditions, he began to carefully scan the sheer rock wall.

Time passed and the four, cramped in the confining earth depressions, experienced bitter winds and occasional drizzle with only hawks screeching above for company. Without the waterproof clothing taken from the helicopter, they would hardly have survived the gruelling conditions. Nourished only by dried meat and water, they maintained energy by remaining constantly in the dugouts, silently vigilant, moving only when required to perform bodily functions.

On the afternoon of the fourth day the cloudy conditions lifted bringing much needed sunlight and a little warmth. The track had been under constant surveillance with nothing to show; one more day and the rations would be gone. Tomorrow the two Americans would take over. Ryder felt frustrated, knowing instinctively the mountain had something to yield and wanting answers.

Dusk came and they prepared for yet another cold and miserable night. Ryder would take the first watch, the Israelis the second and third and finally Fehed until dawn. Time passed slowly and he fought to stay awake, counting stars in the clear indigo sky and worrying how to flush out the killer. Of the four men he suspected, Hellmann, in the dugout next to him, had aroused his suspicions the most, only because he was strong, handled a knife well and did have easy access to the transmitter before it was destroyed. The story about the battery running out, he thought, had been a little weak. But then again, why would he have mentioned to his sergeant that it had been tampered with in the first place? He also had a growing suspicion of Sicano for reasons he could not quite put his finger on, but the American's aggressiveness and attitude had been niggling away at him since the helicopter episode. What possible motive either of these two men could have to commit murder and leave notes for their pursuers baffled him. He would have to confront them soon.

Suddenly, well into his watch and almost nodding off, Ryder heard a familiar sound on the wind and looked down the spur. It came again, and then he knew – diesels!

Adrenaline surged, cold and discomfort forgotten. He roused the others, who also heard the growl of engines, and then, several hundred yards down the spur, all four saw three sets of hooded headlamps crest the rise. Within minutes, three army trucks, silhouetted against the darkening sky, hooded headlamps illuminating the one in front, roared by and pulled up in front of the rock face. The length and shape of the cargos left little doubt they were carrying missiles. The trucks waited, engines idling, until a low, powerful hiss of hydraulics, followed by a deep rumbling sound, and a twenty-foot square section of the rock face retreated inwards several feet before it began to slide to one side.

Ryder watched transfixed as the vehicles moved into the mountain, engines reverberating loudly once inside the cavernous entrance. Within minutes the huge vehicles disappeared into the blackened hole and the rock face slid back into a seamlessly closed position A feeling of exhilaration, mixed with fear and trepidation, ran through him; a base did exist, it had not been a wild-goose chase after all. The Israelis had been right, too, and could hardly contain their jubilation; all the suffering to get here had now been fully justified. When what they had just witnessed finally sunk in, Ryder and the others hurriedly removed all signs of their presence as best they could, left the dugouts and slunk away into the darkness.

Sicano turned away from the fire, looked directly at Ryder and said in an urgent voice, “Why risk going in? Now it's established a base exists, let's get the hell outta here and tell the generals; let them blast the shit outta the place.” He paused for emphasis, “To go in would be suicide… too risky, Frank, with no stats, no intel – nothing!”

Ryder remained silent.

“Why come all this way to do nothing?” questioned Shiron, voice tinged with anger. “We've come too far to back out now.”

“C'mon Sergeant,” snapped Sicano. “Get real. We've established a base exists so why the fuck put ourselves at more risk?”

“Our orders were to disable,” pressed the Israeli. “Besides, there's no guarantee we'll get back to tell any generals.”

“We've no idea what's inside – layout, personnel, security. It's craz—”

“Hold it! Hold it!” Ryder intervened. “I'll decide what goes down here.”

“We'll go without you,” countered Shiron, looking daggers at the American; Hellmann at his side nodding in agreement.

“I said hold it, Sergeant!” Ryder shouted, eyes levelled menacingly at the Israeli.

“But—”

“Cut it, I said,” he snapped again then turning to Sicano and Kellar, “We knew what we were putting down here. You wanted this to get rid of the ‘failure', the ‘guilt' – remember?” His features hardened. “This is a hostile secret base – missile base. The Israelis have orders to disable if proven. Well, it's proven. I command and I'm ordering we follow through.”

Silence except for the sound of wind buffeting the hideaway.

The two Israelis appeared visibly relieved. Ryder, too, but he didn't show it.

“Thank you, Frank,” said Shiron.

“Don't thank me. This is our business, it's what we do. We're professionals and we didn't come all this way for a holiday.”

“Frank, going in blind is a helluva risky business,” said Kellar. “Doing it knowing—”

“Someone here is a killer,” Ryder finished for him.

“Yeah…well, you have to trust the man next to you; you know that, or you'll be looking over your shoulder every fucking minute,” the American pressed, eyes shifting around the huddled group.

Another prolonged silence.

Kellar was right; it was against all the rules. Ryder stared into the flames then replied quietly, glancing intently at each man. “No choice unless that person wants to own up.”

All, except Ryder and Afari, looked hard at the bound Iranian.

“Kill him!” spat Hellmann.

“No!” shot Ryder. “This man saved our butts flying that heli. If he'd wanted, he could've killed us all.”

“And himself; that's why he didn't,” Hellmann countered.

Although the Iranian understood little English, fear clearly registered.

Ryder was surprised the Americans and Israelis had yet to work out that it was highly unlikely the Iranian was the killer. Or maybe they had, but didn't want to accept that it could be one of them. One was attempting to deflect attention from himself; the question: who?

“Why take the risk?” Sicano pressed again. “He's not even trained for the kinda heat we can expect.”

Ryder reached a decision. “We'll leave him here, bound. If we get back, then we shoot him. If we don't, he'll die anyway. Agreed?”

Silence as they thought about it, then the Israelis nodded in agreement.

Ryder looked at the two Americans. “You in?”

Both men glanced at one another then nodded.

“Okay, that's settled. Now, how do we get inside that mountain?”

“Vent shafts maybe,” offered Shiron.

“We've spent more than several days scouring that mountain and found nothing,” Sicano voiced.

“What about taking a closer look at that unusual rock formation?” suggested Shiron.

“A possibility,” Ryder replied. “Could be an outlet of some kind, but its high up, difficult to reach, we'd need ropes. Besides, once up there, how would we get through?”

“Blast our way?” pressed Shiron.

“And broadcast our presence? Not an option, Sergeant. What else do we have?”

“The main entrance,” said Kellar. “Wait until it opens to let vehicles through, then slip in.”

“We'll never get near the entrance without detection. They'll have cameras and heat imaging for sure. I would advise against,” said Sicano, looking determinedly at Ryder.

“Maybe not,” said Hellmann, supporting Kellar.

“He's right,” replied Shiron, on Sicano's side. “Without external guards, there has to be.”

“There is another option,” offered Ryder. “Hijack a truck.”

“How could we be sure it was heading for the base?” Sicano asked.

Afari chipped in, “Three convoys have passed since you left. That means out of the three, only the one you saw went to the base.”

Ryder turned to Sicano, “Unless you want to go back up that mountain and search for another way in, it seems to me it's our only chance.” He placed a log on the fire. “The only way in as I see it, would be attached to a convoy like the one we saw. To cut away a single truck would definitely create suspicion and to go up the spur in a single vehicle would most likely rouse suspicion. Any vehicle destined for the base would be pre-scheduled anyway.” He paused and looked at each of the others in turn. “The whole deal is going to depend on a large slice of luck, but for the moment let's work on a basic plan. At dawn we make our way down to the road, conceal ourselves and wait. We'll take out a truck in the first convoy that comes along heading west, providing it's not carrying troops. You, Sergeant,” he looked at Shiron, “will move out in front of the last truck and play dead. You and you,” he pointed at Sergeant Kellar and Corporal Hellmann, “will check inside,” then to Sicano, “Sergeant, you and me will take the cab occupants. Afari, keep an eye on him,” he nodded at Fehed. “If all goes well; pray the convoy is heading to the base.”

“What can we expect inside the mountain?” Kellar asked.

Ryder looked at Shiron to answer that.

“Our experts said we could expect a Western-style subterranean structure,” the sergeant replied, poking at the flames. “It could possibly be a two or three level structure entered at the highest level with control, storage and missile firing operations on the lowest. There would probably be a large entry chamber with a tunnel to penetrate well into the mountain; the chamber and tunnel would be big enough to take heavy vehicles and equipment, at least we know from what we saw, that's true. Security would be strong.”

“What about personnel?”

“Probably a hundred or more; fifty per cent would be security.”

“And firing chambers?”

The Israeli quickly answered, “Unlikely to be conventional silos; mobile gantries, more likely in one or more chambers.”

“What size?”

“Enough to take a six-cluster; experts reckon Shahab-4 missiles could be used. That indicates the firing tubes could be in excess of 40 feet in length.”

“What would the tubes be made of?” Kellar asked.

“Tubes and gantries in steel; tubes lined with non-combustibles.”

“We'd need some grunt to knock them out,” said the American to Ryder.

“What we have will do, as long as the charges are well placed.”

“How does the whole thing work?” Kellar pressed.

“Tubes would be loaded using overhead cranes, and elevated towards an outlet slot in the mountainside – that unusual surface under the overhang could be an outlet – the slot covers would slide open to fresh air, the missiles would be primed and then fired from the control centre. To disrupt this we would need to place charges around the base of the gantry supports. When they blow, the tube frame will collapse.”

“Assuming we even reach the chambers,” said Sicano.

“Naturally,” agreed Shiron.

“If not, we place them wherever we can,” Ryder said firmly.

“How accessible would the chambers be?” asked Kellar.

“Maybe through tunnels from a control centre; chambers would be remote in case of accidents.”

A moment's silence, then, “Anything else we need to know, Sergeant?” Ryder asked.

“No, that's about it,” replied the Israeli.

“Okay, here's the scenario,” said Ryder. “Assuming we hijack a truck heading for the base, we con our way in, you and me that is,” he glanced at Sicano. “The rest of you will remain hidden in the back until inside and safe to get out. Depending on what we find we then make our way down to the lowest level, if there is one, otherwise we search the level we're on. Once in the firing chambers, we place the charges anywhere that'll do the most damage, and then get out fast. If two chambers exist, we separate. Oscar and you, Bear, including you,” he glanced at Afari, “will deal with one, and you two,” he turned to the Israelis, “will come with me to the other. If we get out safely, we regroup here. Questions?”

“Loose game plan, Frank,” said Sicano. “Not what they taught at Campbell.”

“Best we have,” Ryder countered, fully aware of the risks. Now the whole thing had become a reality he could not help but feel concern tinged with fear at what they were contemplating, but pushed it aside.

They continued to talk well into darkness, covering details of the operation, overhauling weapons, checking and storing ammunition and grenades in backpacks together with rations and other items considered essential. Last of all, and most importantly, they carefully prepared charges using what little Semtex they had, taped together with Russian-made detonators and timers to form lethal explosive packs capable of doing serious damage if correctly placed.

Finally, preparations were complete ready to move out at first light. The success or failure of the whole operation now depended entirely upon what they found inside the mountain, the determination of each man, and what the killer intended. Ryder made up his mind to confront Hellman, and if necessary, Sicano before they left.