The Sahara Intercept

by R G Ainslee

  "John Smith told me to be careful here," said Jim. He motioned toward the two French Marines. "These guys understand. They're keeping an eye out for trouble."

  I swallowed hard, choking back a flood of emotions. "Yeah, that's' not a bad idea." We weren't home free, not by a long shot. Lisette could have been under observation on Lamu. Someone at the airport might recognize me. Then an anxious thought: Did the SkB anticipate our flight to Nairobi?

  Jim checked his pilot's chronometer. "We're on a flight that leaves in two hours." I started to ask, but he continued, "To Athens."

  Two hours — A shot of panic: No, I can't leave her again. — I'm staying.

  Jim recognized the spark of concern in my eyes. "Don't worry. We're all going, got seats for eight, including the baby. The French Marines catch a connecting flight in Athens on their way to Paris and we'll be staying overnight before our next leg." He anticipated my question. "Cyprus … Mack will meet us there. That's all I can say for now."

  Mack — if he was meeting us, something was in the works, but I didn't care, I was with Lisette and my son, that's all I wanted.

  38 ~ Cyprus

  Wednesday, 5 November 1980, Cyprus

  Athens was all I could have hoped for, a night at the airport hotel with Lisette and little Duval. We spent the evening making up for lost time — well, as good as we could with a baby in tow. Lisette seemed content and committed to our marriage, but something had changed. The effervescent joy gone, replaced by calm determination. I detected an underlying layer of coolness and detachment that reminded me of Cecile back in Kisangani. I lay awake for an hour, trying to make sense of it all, but in the end decided, it was up to me to set it right. — Whatever it takes, I don't care what. I'm going to make this work.

  On the flight to Cyprus, Barker arranged the tickets, so we appeared to be travelling separately. The others sat in different rows and we only exchanged fleeting glances. Security would be an issue at the airport in Cyprus. Someone was always watching, and a group might attract attention of the wrong kind.

  The events of the past few days ran through my mind: the sheer brutality of the killings in Kisangani, the fact that Wilson was dead, and the Bremmer woman still at large. I gazed over at Lisette and the baby. The mission no longer mattered. I almost sacrificed my life, my marriage, and my career in an insane quest of personal revenge. I survived, no use taking any more chances.

  Nevertheless, questions remained unanswered. Why travel to Cyprus and not Albuquerque? Why was Mack meeting us there? What was the future of Raven-One? Wilson was gone, SSRP was his brainchild, what now?

  * * *

  Larnaca airport bustled with a horde of winter sun seekers from northern climes. We fit right in. Jack, Amadeo, and Barker all went their separate ways, taking individual taxis, per Barkers instructions. Mack greeted Lisette and me and hustled us out to a waiting rental car.

  Mack drove through several villages, halting twice to make sure no one followed. I asked, but he declined to elaborate on the purpose of our trip, told me to wait and he'll brief everyone at the same time. Past the last village, he turned south down a side road to a rented beach villa.

  We unpacked and settled in. The others arrived over the next half hour, after changing taxis in town. Mack had stocked some food supplies and Amadeo helped Lisette prepare sandwiches. Barker produced a case of yellow-labeled KEO beer.

  "This is pretty good stuff," said Jack. He nodded to me. "What you think?"

  I held the bottle up to the light. "Has a nice light taste." I glanced over at Amadeo. "Beats that Primus hippo water." He took a sip and nodded in agreement.

  Mack sat down beside me and took a long draw of the pale brew.

  I said, "Okay, what's going on? What's the deal with this place, and why Cyprus?"

  Mack sat his bottle aside, took a deep breath, and exhaled. "As you can imagine, SSRP is in a state of flux. Barker and I headed to Frankfurt as soon as I heard of the attack … we arrived after Wilson died." He paused and looked at me with sad eyes. "Technically, I'm in charge until the agencies decide what to do with us."

  "How about John? He gonna be okay?"

  "Lost his right eye but will recover otherwise. He's taking it alright though, planning his revenge."

  "What's the plan?"

  "We're going after them."

  I gulped. "So?"

  "Your next stop is Israel."

  "You're dreaming Mack. I'm going home and that's final."

  He ignored my comment. "I flew ahead to Larnaca and found this place to use as our base of operations." He tilted his head back to the kitchenette. "I took the liberty of having Jim brief Lisette on what we're up against." He noticed my look of astonishment. "She needs to be with us for her personal security … and she deserves be informed, she's been through enough."

  "Wait a minute." I wheeled around to Mack. "She's here as part of our cover. What gave you the right?"

  "It was my idea," said Barker. "We can protect her better here and … she agreed."

  "No … no way."

  "He is right, you must listen to him," said Lisette.

  "I don't care."

  She glared at me. "You must do your duty. I will be here. You go. Do what you must." She choked back tears. "You have a duty ... you have the life of danger." She dropped the knife and fled to the bedroom.

  I couldn't decide whether to follow or stay on the couch, I took the coward's way out and stayed. She was right. I led two lives, and in order to end my life of risk and danger, I had to finish the mission. Only then would I be free to be the man Lisette needed.

  I swallowed hard and turned to Mack. "Well, what's the plan?"

  "Let's eat first. Then we'll take a walk."

  * * *

  Barker stayed behind with Lisette as Mack, Amadeo, Jack, and I strolled along the narrow rocky beach. She calmed down and even smiled as we ate lunch. I knew it was only a facade, her real feelings masked by grim determination.

  We halted beside a boulder and gazed out to sea as a tepid spray wafted off the water. Mack glanced over his shoulder at the cloud-covered hills and said, "Better not go too far, looks like it might rain."

  Mack sat down on the rock. "We'll have a visitor tomorrow — from Israel. You don't know this, but my last duty assignment for the Air Force was in Tel Aviv as a defense attaché. There are still a few old hands around and I made a discrete visit, outside of official channels, to their embassy in Bonn the day after Wilson died. They have the same concerns as us and may be willing to assist."

  "Doing what?" asked Jack.

  Mack didn't hesitate. "Go in, find, and kill the bastards."

  I was skeptical, still not sold on the idea of leaving Lisette for another wild goose chase. "Think they know where they're holed-up?"

  "We'll find out tomorrow. The visitor should be here for lunch."

  "Do you know who?"

  "No, but I bet you can guess who he represents."

  Jack and Amadeo's grim smiles said it all. "Okay Mack, I'll listen to what he says, but I'm still not sure."

  A drizzle began, and we started back to the house. I asked, "What do you think about Raven-One's future? We got any?"

  "Perhaps. The actor won the election yesterday. Maybe he'll bring in some people who understand the real world."

  I snickered. "Yeah, give me a break. Since when did anything ever change for the better in that town?"

  Mack didn't answer, but from his faint smile, I detected the smugness of someone who possessed a secret.

  Thursday, 6 November 1980, Cyprus

  The visitor arrived late in the morning with a knock on the front door. Much to our surprise, an older woman dressed in walking attire introduced herself as Mrs. Rosen. She handed an envelope to Mack, wished us a good day, and left.

  Mack opened the envelope, read the message, and motioned to me. "Come on let's go for a walk." Before I could ask, he answered my question, "We're supposed to meet someone at the tan house with the red roof." He eyed J
ack and Amadeo, "Sorry, they just want Ross and me."

  The cottage was only 150 yards down the beach. We could see Mrs. Rosen walking up the shoreline away from our destination. Mack knocked on the door and a white-haired man let us in.

  "Are you Mr. Brannan?"

  "Yes."

  "My apologies, we shall complete this meeting quickly." He gave Mack a concerned look. "Security has become an issue. Our contact must be brief."

  "What kind of issues?" I didn't like the connotation.

  "Increased surveillance was noted at Larnaca airport. It may not be related to our dealings, but I prefer not to take unnecessary chances … and no we have not identified the people involved."

  "Any idea who?"

  "I only deal with facts. I said I do not know." He appeared irritated and continued, "One person, Brannan here, is authorized to proceed to Tel Aviv." He paused and looked me in the eyes. "You will be briefed on a developing situation, and a decision made at that time as to your further involvement."

  Mack said, "We have two other capable operators —"

  "One person only and it must be Brannan."

  "No," said Mack abruptly, "I won't allow him to go alone … and that's not negotiable."

  For the first time, Rosen seemed flustered. "I am only authorized to—"

  "I don't give a flying flip what you're authorized to do. I said he's not going without backup."

  "But—"

  "No buts about it. I said it's not negotiable, and I mean it."

  "I do not have the authority—"

  "I do … come on Ross, let's go home." At the entrance, Mack halted and turned back. "If you change your mind, we'll be at the same place for a few days … oh, if you get bored, come on down, we got plenty of beer."

  As the door closed behind us, I asked, "Do you think he'll come around?"

  "Don't know. If he doesn't we'll need to check on flight schedules to Beirut."

  We passed Mrs. Rosen on the way back. She ignored our greeting.

  * * *

  After lunch, we sat down and discussed the situation. Everyone agreed with Mack: wait and see if the Israeli changed his mind, and if not, decide on how to proceed without their assistance.

  "I sure would be more comfortable with some weapons," said Jack. "His comment on security issues bothers me."

  "I agree," said Amadeo. "Wonder where we could come up with something. Maybe at one of the British bases?"

  "No way," said Mack. "We can't involve anyone else. Remember we're on our own. You can scout around the island tomorrow and see what you can turn up."

  "You not have the pistolet?" inquired Lisette with a surprised look.

  Amadeo grinned. "No, can we borrow yours?"

  "Bien sûr!" She strode over to le pamper sac and pulled out her new chrome plated Walther PPK with black pearl handles, a replacement for the one I lost in Afghanistan last year.

  "Madre de Dios," exclaimed Amadeo. "Where did you get that?"

  Jack laughed. "She did it again. What did you caller her, Ross, a nun with a gun?" He was referring to her unexpected trip to Iran, last year, with a pistol in her purse.

  "Did you bring that thing from home?" I asked.

  "Mais oui!"

  "Yeah, but how did you—"

  "Travel in le pamper sac."

  "You had the pistol in Rome, Lyon, and all the way to Lamu?"

  She shrugged in the Gallic fashion. "Oui, est-il un problème?"

  "Hell no," said Jack, "Problem solved … you got an extra magazine … ah, extra ammo?"

  "Non, pourquoi?"

  I answered for her. "She thinks you don't need extra ammo if you hit the target on the first shot."

  Lisette smiled and nodded in agreement. "D'accord!"

  Amadeo took the pistol and checked the chamber. "Locked and loaded, ready for bear."

  Lisette frowned. "I do not understand … the bear."

  I took her by the hand. "Let's go for a walk, I'll explain."

  We casually strolled down the beach. Little Duval screamed with joy every time a seagull passed by — he was having a great time. He couldn't walk yet but could scramble around with abandon. I was beginning to look forward to being a daddy again. The first year hadn't been easy and I resolved to do better.

  The curtain parted as we passed the tan house occupied by Rosen. We kept on walking and halted a couple of hundred yards down the shoreline. I took Duval down to the water and dipped his feet into the water. He started to cry. I tried again, resulting in a bloody scream.

  "The water is cold," said Lisette.

  "He needs to get used to it." I lowered him in again, and as his toes caught a small wave, he bellowed and writhed out of my grip, falling into the shallow water.

  Lisette burst into a babble of incomprehensible French as she bound across the rocky shore and scooped up the soaking wet baby, who was now giggling with delight.

  "You're all wet."

  She responded with a kick to the water, splashing my pants leg. "Tu aussi."

  I took Duval from her arms as she began to laugh. "Come on, we better get back. Don't need to let him catch a cold." We walked hand in hand. Everything seemed okay. Maybe it would work out.

  As we passed the tan house, Mrs. Rosen motioned to us to come in. Inside she took Lisette and the kid into the bedroom to dry off. Mr. Rosen retired to the kitchen to fix a pot of coffee. Their place was laid out similar ours, a generic beach rental, but smaller, only two bedrooms.

  I followed into the kitchen and leaned back against the counter.

  He asked, "Do you like the coffee Greek style?"

  "I'll give it a try."

  "This is Charalambous coffee." He measured out several scoops and took a sniff. "Many believe it to be the best. I happen to agree."

  "I like mine hot and strong."

  He gave me a weak condescending smile, typical of your gourmet types. "I am sure you will savor the dark hearty taste and rich aroma."

  Give me a break bubba, it's just a cup of coffee. I smiled, trying to appear interested.

  "By the way, your Mr. Gibson's request is approved. One additional person may accompany you."

  "Only one?"

  "Yes, the aircraft is small, and space is limited."

  "We're not going commercial?"

  "Oh, no. You and your companion will meet the pilot at Larnaca airport at 0600 and fly direct to Israel."

  "Where? What airport?"

  "I cannot … I am sorry." After an uncomfortable pause, he continued, "I must say though, someone has a high regard for you. It was most unexpected for them to accede to the request."

  "Who's them?"

  "I regret—"

  "Yeah, I know. If you tell me, you'll have to kill me."

  Rosen looked genuinely started. "What—"

  "It's a joke … American humor."

  "Oh — ah, the coffee is ready."

  * * *

  The mood was subdued as I relayed Rosen's message. Everyone, including Lisette, listened in silence. Rosen wanted conformation within the hour. If we agreed, the flight would be dispatched for an early morning pick-up.

  "What do you think?" I asked.

  Mack shook his head. "Could be just an intelligence briefing or some sort of operation. They conducted raids using commandos in the past, but I can't see that happening. Marsden and the SkB people are most likely in Beirut. An incursion would be too dangerous. The risks far outweigh the rewards. My guess is they want to be briefed on what you found in Africa. That's why they requested you."

  "I'm not so sure," said Jack. "They could've sent somebody here to debrief Ross. Rosen told you it was a developing situation. My money is on a raid."

  "I agree with Jack. They're dependent on airpower and can't let their advantage slip. Direct action is needed, most likely an air strike." I asked Barker, "What do you think?"

  "Got a feeling the Israelis know more than they are letting on. They see the threat in a different light than we do. To them it's a matter of l
ife and death, not just a chip in the strategic poker game. I think they're poised for action and they believe Ross is the final piece of the puzzle."

  Amadeo agreed, "I'm with Jim, something's about to hit the fan."

  Mack leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. "Okay, regardless of what they may or may not do, we need to decide who's going with Ross. — Volunteers?"

  Amadeo spoke up first, "I want to go in the worst way, but I believe Jack is best qualified if it comes to an airborne insertion. He has by far the most experience, plus his Arabic is better than mine."

  Mack eyed us each individually. "Anyone disagree?" Everyone nodded in agreement. "Alright, Richards, you drew the short straw."

  Jack didn't look too enthusiastic. I recalled my conversation with John Smith about Jack's near-death experience in Laos. I wondered if it would be an issue.

  I motioned to Jack. "Let's step outside."

  Jack frowned and followed me out to the beach. He asked, "What's the problem?"

  "You okay with this?"

  "Why do you even have to ask?"

  "I just wanted to make sure. If this involves flying … ah, I remember what you said in Turkey about not flying … thought you might have some qualms."

  Jack let out an exasperated breath. "You been talking to John, haven't you?"

  "Yeah, I need to know, it's my life on the line too."

  "I'll do it, no problem, don't worry about me."

  "You're not scared?"

  "Hell yes, I'm scared, but I do it … comes with the territory. I do what I'm trained to do. If some fool tells you he's not scared, he's either lying or an idiot."

  "You didn't seem worried when I made a dead stick landing in Afghanistan."

  "You were too busy to notice."

  "Hope you're not offended."

  "No way. Thanks for asking. We need to know if we can depend on each other. That's one less thing to worry about."

  Back inside, I announced, "We're good to go."

  Mack headed for the door. "I'll go down the beach and tell Rosen our answer."

  Amadeo sighed and offered a weak smile. I detected a twinge of disappointment. Lisette made no comment, but a tear glistened in her eye as she turned to retreat to the bedroom.