Lizzy and Rolston crawled into
position. They slid down to the canyon floor, and took positions behind
bowed palm trees stumps.
Lizzy understood Harley’s
decision and supported it but knew the risks. Though they had the element
of surprise, the engagement could turn destructive and the admirable initiative
would backfire. If they simply let the patrol go through, they would be
home free once darkness fell. The Egyptians had what they came looking
for and would not look back. It was only a matter of hours before they
could scoot safely through.
But Lizzy knew Harley’s
primary motive was saving the little guy who had bravely aided them. He
also suspected Harley worried that Faraj could be made to talk, expose the
operation, bringing, if not for their capture, further embarrassing political
ramifications, which someone, and quite possibly their sponsors, would need to
answer to.
It was a close call.
Faraj could have already squealed in which case the patrol had to be
eliminated, but from the way the Egyptian procession progressed, Lizzy
suspected he had not yet given them away. Actually Faraj should have had
no knowledge they were still in the canyon. They had not seen him pass by
and suspected he opted for some rest and recuperation before venturing on the
difficult journey back to his people.
The procession appeared ten
minutes later, Faraj in front, being pushed and shoved by gun butts, tiredly
tripping over
himself
. When all five were in
view, Lizzy and Rolston pulled the triggers. They had no silencers and
the shots pierced the silence, reverberating through the canyon.
The front two dropped.
The lead soldier fell flat on his face, blood oozing from his head. The
second fell to his knees, looking around in disbelief; he made grabbing motions
at an imaginary object then fell to the ground.
The remaining three jumped for
cover but not before two others were also hit, falling to the ground. The
remaining trooper found a ditch and began returning fire wildly. He
offloaded a full AK-47 magazine before he had his throat slit by Harley who had
jumped him from behind as soon as the magazine emptied.
Lizzy and Rolston leaped from
behind their cover to join Harley who was verifying the kills, when one of the
wounded jumped up and ran for the bushes, hurdling over the stunned Faraj, as
he made his escape.
It was not long before a
single shot rang out further down the canyon. Jimmy and Devlin had put an
end to that futile attempt.
At first, the bewildered Faraj
had remained standing, hands on his head expecting the worst. The canyon had
suddenly exploded around him and he had to assume the shots were aimed at
him. When he realized he was still alive he simply fell to the ground
looking for cover. The entire exchange took less than a minute and Faraj
just laid there, his head stuck in the ground, his eyes shut in silent prayer.
After his company left, he had
gone back to sleep underneath the fig tree near the cave. When he awoke,
he heard the familiar Egyptian dialect nearby. He would have managed to
escape undetected but for an Egyptian trooper who had sidestepped to relieve
himself. Faraj, who had crawled around the pool area, sprang up to dart
when he nearly ran into him. Both were momentarily stunned then the
soldier, having left his gun back at the campsite, excitedly bellowed for
help. Faraj doubled back and a chase began. It ended with Faraj
being cornered in a narrow passageway that had no outlet. Reluctantly he
raised his hands high above his head and put himself at the mercy of the
vengeful soldiers.
They roughed him up and urged
him to state his business. He maintained that he had stopped at the
canyon on his way back home to Katarina from a business transaction and showed
them his foreign currency notes, which were immediately confiscated.
He was trapped and he figured
he was better off admitting to drug trafficking than to assisting wanted child
kidnappers he knew half the military in the Sinai was looking for. Drug
trafficking to Israel was a crime the military tended to overlook and some
people considered it a duty.
The soldiers remained
skeptical. They knew the tribes dealing in drugs, and the Tarrabin were
not one of them. In the end they decided to take him in for further
questioning.
Now they were all dead.
Faraj flashed his crooked
smile at his saviors and gingerly stood up. He limped over to the
bleeding corpse nearest to him and fished in his pockets coming up with his
money and several other Egyptian notes. He then went from corpse to
corpse and frisked them, kicking the last for good measure.
Harley had some decisions to
make.
He took Faraj back to where
Clair and Ibrahim waited, explained the state of affairs and ordered them to
stay put until they discarded the bodies. Both were relieved to see
Harley alive and immediately began to tend to Faraj’s wounds.
Then he and his mates dug five
graves in a remote corner of the canyon and buried the five Egyptian soldiers
along with their weapons and gear.
“We have three hours before we
can leave,” Harley stated after they all had a chance to wash off the blood and
the dust.
“Do we go for it now before
someone shows up to investigate or do we wait it out?” He conferred with
his men. “And we also need to decide about the Bedouin.”
“Chances of someone hearing
the gun fight are slim,” Devlin pitched in. “To hear it, someone had to
be close by and would have been here by now.”
“I second that,” Lizzy
said. “I say we play it safe and wait for the dark.”
“It’s odd Copeland didn’t take
action,” Rolston wondered out loud. “He must have heard the exchange.”
”I don’t think there’s
reception this deep into the canyon.” Harley speculated, wondering about
the same thing himself. “Lizzy, you and Jimmy advance a little toward the
entrance; see if you can pick him up. Let him know what happened. If
there’s anything out there, he’ll let us know.”
It was a nerve-wracking wait
for the party before Lizzy and Jimmy came back. Harley had posted Devlin
to watch one side and Rolston the other while he went to check on Faraj who had
been cleaned and bandaged by Clair with Harley’s own first aid kit.
The Bedouin, cut and bruised,
his left eye swollen shut, still managed his crooked smile when Harley
approached.
“You should join us,” Harley
said to him in Arabic.
Faraj looked confused.
“The Israelis will insert you
back through Taba,” Harley offered.
“They will take me prisoner,”
Faraj objected. “They will charge me for trespassing.”
“We’ll arrange it,” Harley
promised.
“How will I go back
then?” Faraj complained. “No documents. No ID.”
“Same way you come out.
They’ll let you through the fence.”
“Word will get around.
The Egyptians will charge me with spying and killing.”
It suddenly dawned on Harley
that he could not afford to leave the Bedouin behind. He had to get him
over the border, have the Israelis stash him away somewhere. If he were caught
and spilled the beans, the incident could be blown out of proportion. It
could turn into an ugly political brawl with him and his team right in the
middle of it.
If the Bedouin refused he
might have to eliminate him.
“Look Faraj,” Harley
sighed. “You are in no shape to stay here on your own. You need
medical attention and you need rest. Your chances of making it back to
your people in this condition are not good. The shape you are in, chances are
the Egyptians will catch you sooner than later. Your best bet is to come
with us.”
Faraj hesitated and Harley
could see the fear in his eyes. He had already ventured far from his
natural habitat and did not wish to extend it. But he was quite severely
injured and knew Harley talked sense.
He lowered his gaze and
slumped to the ground. Harley took that for a yes.
“We’ll leave soon as it’s
fully dark,” he said in English, addressing Clair, gesturing at Faraj.
“Keep an eye on him. He’s coming with us.”
Lizzy and Jimmy showed up a
little later. They had made contact with Copeland.
“Did you tell him about
Jack?” Harley questioned.
“No, Sir,” Lizzy said.
“We let him know of the scrap and that we were coming in tonight. We kept
it short. They are expecting us. It’s obvious we can’t stay here
another night and so far the route is clear.”
“OK then. The Bedouin is
coming with us. We can’t leave him here. He’s a liability
now. We’ll see if the Israelis can stash him out of harm’s way for a
while. If the Egyptians ever get a hold of him and make him talk, we’ll
be scrubbing floor tiles for the rest of our lives.”
Lizzy and Jimmy both
grinned. The sun had by now completely disappeared beyond the cliffs to
the west and dusk was slowly settling into darkness. The party moved soon
after, Devlin taking point, turning on the thermal IR camera, Rolston doing the
same in back.
It soon became apparent Faraj
could not walk fast enough. He was limping heavily, slowing the troop
down. They had reached the canyon entrance and were hovering by the
waterfall, waiting for a signal to move.
Harley ordered Jimmy to unfold
the stretcher.
As soon as the radio crackled,
Copeland giving them the go-ahead, they set out across the open
flatlands.
Devlin in front, Clair and Ibrahim in his
footsteps; the rest carrying Faraj on the stretcher.
They moved quickly across the
open ground, exposed to the elements. Faraj was not much of a weight but
they were bunched up alongside the stretcher, more vulnerable to detection and
assault.
Devlin walked briskly in a
straight line across the plain. Both Clair and Ibrahim had trouble
keeping up and were forced to move at a slow jog. The men with the
stretcher struggled silently. The night was moonless but the stars shone
bright. The uneven terrain was sandy at some places and gritty at others.
Devlin was following a simple
azimuth reading on his compass and was slightly adjusting his direction
periodically. He was aware of the difficulty their untrained
entourage
were
having and knew they could not manage the pace for too long.
The stretcher would eventually put quite a strain on the trained men bearing it
and they would need to stop and rest.
He hated the thought but had
no alternative. Along their path were shallow dips in the ground they
could hide in but closer to the fence was completely bare and if a random
Egyptian patrol went by, they would be sitting ducks.
He kept the pace up for a
while then stopped in a sandy ditch he hoped offered enough cover.
The stretcher was carefully
laid on the ground and the weary troop propped on their backs to rest.
Silently they drank water and tried to loosen up their strained limbs.
Devlin crouched in front scanning the surroundings looking for any sign of
movement. All was clear. He checked his watch and compass and
estimated they were about half way. He was eager to continue but allowed
the troop a little more rest intending to make it through on the next
leg. He looked toward the Israeli border but could not make out the fence
or anything else. The ridge on the Israeli side stood ghostly dark not
offering any guidance points.
As he turned to look at the
slumped troop, intending to urge them up, the radio cackled twice. It was
Copeland and it meant they had company.
Devlin turned and once again
surveyed the area detecting a slow moving vehicle traveling north to south at
about where he thought the border fence was placed - an Egyptian patrol which,
according to Kessler, had a habit of randomly stopping and making camp for the
night. He could only pray they would not.
It was the better part of an
hour before the patrol disappeared to the south. It had made numerous
stops along the fence, each causing them more anxiety than the previous.
According to his compass, Devlin thought they had paid special attention to the
gate, where they were intending to pass, but was too far out to be certain.
Jittery but well-rested the troop
set out once again. Devlin set a murderous pace causing Ibrahim to
stumble and fall more than once. Devlin could hear his comrades straining
under the stretcher but their progress encouraged him. He could finally
see the fence with his thermal camera.
The most hazardous part of the
journey lay just ahead of them. He gave a signal to stop and crouch as he
surveyed the final half-kilometer, a sandy, flat expanse that stretched
perpendicular along the fence on both sides of the border. He took his time,
making sure they were on track to the gate. Slowly he surveyed the path,
wondering about land mines and other nasty obstacles. Kessler had assured
them no mines existed on account of the established treaty being a major reason
hooker and drug smugglers had space to operate.