Run With The Brave (17 page)

At the centre of the wide valley plain the file of six silent men and one woman, led by Shiron with Ryder bringing up the rear, reached the edge of a saline marsh criss-crossed by narrow streams. The streams, as far as Ryder could tell, were less than knee-deep and easy to negotiate. But the openness of the whole area, stretching for several miles, would leave them highly exposed, especially as there were clear signs of human habitation in the form of small huts and dirt tracks scattered over the marsh. After scanning the flats with his glasses, Ryder decided it was far too risky to cross in daylight and ordered the group to rest until darkness arrived. Finding a shallow gully, lined with rock and bush which gave an unobstructed view for miles around between vegetation on the rim, they kept together within sight of one another and bedded down to get some sleep. Sicano and Kellar took the first watch.

A few hours later, on his watch with Afari late in the afternoon, Ryder turned to the Iranian. She looked tired and worn out. He felt a pang of concern, if not guilt, at what they were expecting of her; the brutal death of Saad may have been the last straw, shattering her resolve, making her regret the decision to join them. Maybe he could talk her into getting away whilst she still had the chance. He said in a low, soft voice, “If a base exists it'll be tough – if not suicidal – attempting to get inside and disable. You prepared to risk that?”

She gave him a wary, piercing look but did not answer, ignoring him and glancing away, her cocked pistol held firmly in one hand, finger on the trigger.

“You don't have to do this,” he pressed, knowing full well the kind of dangers they would face if they had to enter that mountain, especially with a killer in tow. “None of us would feel bad if you were to leave now and make for the Gulf.”

She swung back and hissed, “Fehed would,” her wide, defiant eyes boring into him, “you think I can just skulk away because the going gets tough after all I and Fehed have been through? I will not leave him. He did not kill Saad; they were good friends… no, I could not leave him; we will take our revenge together, or die in the attempt.” She stared hard at him and then spat, “Do not speak to me of this again.”

He was taken aback by the sharp rebuke; little doubt she was determined as ever to see it through. It was time to tell her what he thought. “If it's any consolation I do not believe your friend is the killer either – or you for that matter.”

She turned fully towards him, an expression of surprise etched on her features. “And why is that?” she whispered with a thin smile.

“Because Fehed and you wouldn't have known the objective prior to today; the note I found proves it. Anyhow, what possible motive could you have for doing it? You all had good reasons to destroy the regime, not yourselves. Besides, that knife thrust would've taken a great deal of strength to execute. No disrespect, but you both don't look capable.”

“You suspect anyone?” she asked, voice tense, taking furtive glances over at the others out of earshot several yards away.

He struggled to believe it could be one of the Americans, even one of the Israelis, but it had to be one of them and if forced to choose, Shiron or Hellman would be the first in line, but he replied, “No. What about you?”

He could see by the sudden change in her body language and expression she was considering that he might be the killer. “I do not know. All I know is that we,” she glanced over to where Fehed lay, “did not do this.” She paused, looking him straight in the eye, “You are British; why were you in an Iranian prison? You said you are SAS, has that something to do with it?” she probed, obviously trying to eliminate him from suspicion.

“Ex SAS.”

“If you are a civilian; why do you lead? And what are you doing here in my country?”

“Good questions.” She deserved to know the truth but it could not be told. “To your first question: been here before, understand a bit about the culture, and I do have a military background. And, as you know, the others wanted it that way.” He paused for a reaction, but none came, so he continued, “To your second: I suppose ‘working holiday' would cover it; selling engine parts when arrested, not sure why.” He'd kept it short and uncomplicated but could tell she was not convinced, eyeing him with some uncertainty. He wanted to convince her. “If you suspect me; forget it, trust me, I'm on your side. I have no reason to even be here, or the Americans, we are passengers. Fate threw us into this situation just like you. What possible motive could I have for killing your countryman like that? The Israelis apparently always had this mountain as their objective; we joined them to help find what they were looking for. Maybe they have something to hide?” Weak, he agreed, but that was all he could think of.

She seemed to relax a little, uncocked the pistol but kept it firmly within her grip. Energy seemed to drain from her and the conversation ended. Suddenly, she pointed towards the horizon. Ryder followed her gaze, raised binoculars, and saw in the distance plumes of dust in the direction of the mountains they had left twenty-four hours earlier.

“What could it be?” she shot.

“By the size of the plume, I'd guess trucks – and heading our way.”

“How far?”

“Five – six miles… four vehicles.” Ryder let the glasses drop and pulled out a map. “No roads shown; must be a dirt track.” Raising binoculars again he scanned the surrounding ground. “There's a broad track on the other side of that stream; it fords the stream and runs right past our position.” Seconds later, “Shit; it's the one they're on.”

Afari looked through her glasses, confirming Ryder's fears, then back again to the plume. “Much closer now; we need to find cover,” she said urgently.

Ryder called to the others telling them to gather equipment and conceal themselves as best they could. The gully gave scant cover but all quickly found a bush big enough to scramble under hard against the six-foot-high, sharply rising bank on the track side, hopefully giving maximum concealment from above.

The growl of diesel engines increased together with the sound of wheels splashing across shallow water and then the shuddering of the ground, before the growl engulfed everything as the first truck sped past only yards away.

Then, the hiss of air brakes; the screech of tortured metal and the convoy abruptly came to a halt, the third truck stopping alongside where they hid. The throb of idling engines filled the air.

Ryder's adrenaline surged.

The next thing: slamming of doors, tailboards dropping and boots hitting the ground. He prayed dogs were not on board.

Ryder released his pistol safety-catch, gripped the handle ready and listened to the banter of many soldiers moving towards the edge of the gully. If he was about to die he would take as many with him as possible. He waited, expecting discovery at any moment. Then, suddenly, streams of urine hit the bush, percolating down through the dense foliage, trickling over his back; he waited for shit but it never came. Banter and diesels drowned out everything else. The flow of urine gradually stopped. The soldiers drifted back to the trucks and clambered in. Doors slammed, diesels revved and the convoy got underway, to Ryder's relief.

When the vehicles were well away they emerged from hiding and shook themselves down, cursing. None, thankfully, had suffered much of a drenching from the thirty or so men relieving themselves over the edge of the gully. Luckily the fatigues they wore were waterproof and the urine had run off.

“Thank Christ they only pissed on us; could've been worse,” said Kellar, checking his rifle. “Any closer and we'd be goners. Could almost taste what they had for fucking breakfast – you hear what they were banging on about?”

“Something about a place called Abbasabad,” Sicano replied.

The two Israelis exchanged glances.

Shiron spoke, “It's a village on the west flank of the mountain we're checking out. Small army garrison supposed to be stationed there. If a missile base exists, the land around could be patrolled. I guess the garrison is most likely used for that.”

If the Israeli was right that could make the search much more difficult and risky. Ryder hoped the Israeli was wrong.

“It'll be a lot bigger once those trucks arrive – if that's the destination,” Kellar voiced, and then, as if as an afterthought, “At least, in some ways, it's a sign we may not be wasting our time after all,” he finished, forcing a grin.

Sicano looked at the Israelis, “If those trucks are going to that town, it tells me they know we're coming.”

“You mean the note Frank found?” shot Shiron.

“Yeah, and whatever else; reinforcements like that crawling everywhere would make it virtually impossible to penetrate any base we may find in that mountain.” Sicano threw sharp glances at the others and spat, “More so, with a killer loose.”

“He's right, Frank,” backed Kellar. “Maybe we should abort?”

Ryder had to admit he was having serious doubts himself after the Iranian's murder and now the practicalities of getting into a base should they find one with a killer still loose; the Americans did have a point. He turned to Shiron and asked in a curt voice, “Do you agree with that, Sergeant?”

The Israeli didn't hesitate, replying coldly, “We didn't come this far to back out now.”

“You, Corporal?” he asked of Hellmann.

“I'm with the Sergeant.”

In some ways Ryder was glad the Israelis wanted to press on, and after a few moments' consideration said, “Okay, we stay with the plan.”

Relief was clearly visible on the faces of the two Israelis. The two Americans just stared at Ryder whilst Afari and Fehed huddled together and looked blankly at the departing convoy.

Cleaning themselves up the best they could they moved on down the gully away from the stink and settled in to await the twilight. When it eventually arrived, they struck out into the marsh and focussed on the yellow-tipped peaks of Kuh-e Mohammadabad and its twin, Kuh-e Alasahun dominating the skyline. A waning moon would light their path when darkness finally fell.

Ryder stayed at the rear of the file, keeping a close eye on those in front. Fehed, roped to Sergeant Kellar, carried his backpack with hands tied. Afari did everything she could to help him over the uneven ground and through the shallow streams. A bitter wind blew across the plain from the north giving concern that the wind chill factor may rise to a dangerous level, despite the good protection given by the fatigues and sturdy fur-lined boots. Ryder, however, worried that crossing the streams in the depths of winter would drain resistance. He could feel a numbness creeping into his body already.

The few streams encountered were easily negotiated, but the last before leaving the marsh was quite wide and relatively deep, and could not be crossed without getting seriously wet. Ryder ordered Fehed to be secured to a tree stump whilst he and the two Israelis searched the bank to the right for raft material, or perhaps even a boat. Sicano, Kellar and Afari were ordered to do the same in the opposite direction. Out of earshot of the others Ryder had warned her to keep ever on guard and watch both Americans carefully.

A comparatively short distance later, Ryder came upon a domed hut close to the water's edge. In front was moored a small timber boat with oars. A wisp of smoke spiralled up from the top of the hut. In the silence of dusk it was unlikely they would be able to take the boat without making some noise, but he decided to try anyway, thankful for the absence of dogs.

The three crept to the water edge. Hellmann and Shiron carefully slipped into the boat whilst Ryder undid the rope on the bank.

Suddenly, the flap on the hut flew open and a man jumped out pointing a rifle directly at Ryder, shouting to leave his boat or he would shoot.

Ryder heard the hammer on the rifle click back, swung up his own to fire, when a sudden blur of movement came from the boat. The man instantly dropped the rifle, gurgling and clutching desperately at a knife imbedded deep into his throat. Hellmann calmly stepped out of the boat and, without looking at Ryder, strode passed him and over to where the dying man lay. He kicked the rifle aside, removed the knife and wiped it clean before resheathing.

The whole incident had taken less than a few seconds. The Israeli corporal had hit the target at a distance of more than 15 feet in semi-darkness. Ryder was impressed; the corporal had probably saved his life. Was he the killer?

Without anyone saying a word, Hellmann got back into the boat, followed by Ryder and they rowed back in silence to where Fehed was tied.

When Sicano and the others returned not long after, the group crossed the stream taking two trips. Once all on the other side Kellar pushed the boat back into midstream and, in single file led by Ryder, struck out into what remained of the saline marsh.

The ground began to rise dramatically once they reached the foothills of the secondary range. Much closer now, less than twenty miles distant, Kuh-e Mohammadabad rose high with its ragged, uneven outline silhouetted against a clear dawn sky. Ryder referred to the GPS and maps regularly now to ensure the peak ahead, to the left of its twin, was the one they had come to check out. He led them on over sparsely vegetated and patchy snow-covered ground, making sure to keep to the protection of gullies and shallow ravines, until full daylight finally arrived. That night they had covered more than fifteen miles and were now almost at the objective, exhausted and chilled to the bone. Choosing a sheltered depression, well camouflaged by scrub on a low, rocky mound overlooking the rapidly rising foothills of Kuh-e Mohammadabad, they made camp. Tomorrow the group would begin to reconnoitre the mountain. They settled down, keeping to themselves, eyeing one another with suspicion. Ryder made sure he could see them all and kept alert. It troubled him the way Hellman had thrown that knife with such accuracy and power back in the marsh. He would not get much sleep in the coming days, although he had the ability through constant practise to rest his mind and body whilst appearing to be awake. More than ever now, he had to be ready to spring into action the moment it was necessary.