by Eric Meyer
He waited for Guy to come back to him. “They know we’re here. They’ve just shouted up the stairs for us to surrender.”
“In English?”
“Yes.”
Shit. Do they know who we are, and why we're here?
“How many of them?”
“I’d guess about twenty or thirty. They’re carrying assault rifles, and they have AKMs.”
Talley thought rapidly. Twenty or thirty Iranian fanatics, armed with automatic weapons, facing Guy and three other operatives armed with pistols. It’s a trap!
“Guy, you have to give up. Try and lose the pistols and bluff it out. You’re just innocent researchers, in the country for legitimate reasons.”
“But, Boss, we could…”
“That’s an order, Guy. We’ll work at getting you out from the outside, but don’t start a bloodbath. Confirm you understand.”
There was a short pause. Then he murmured quietly, “Understood.”
Talley turned to Anika. “Come with me, I want to see what goes down. A guy with a girl won’t attract too much attention.”
They slipped out of the truck and walked to the corner. They were in time to see a strong contingent of troops emerge from the old cinema, with Guy and his three men in the center. Talley held Anika’s hand, to keep up the pretense of a Western couple out for a stroll in downtown Tehran. Guy and his people were all in handcuffs, and they were marched across the street and through the door of the Guard barracks. He turned to Anika.
“I guess about now would be a good time to test your local knowledge. How do we get them out?”
“The Pasdaran, the Revolutionary Guard, are a law to themselves, Abe. It won’t be easy. It’s probably impossible.”
“Do you think your pal Petersen may be able to help us?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but I’m not sure I trust him, not entirely.”
“I thought you worked for the same organization?”
“We do, but someone is leaking information, and until I know who, I don’t trust anyone.” She looked thoughtful. “Jeffrey’s been different lately, strange.”
“In what way?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing, maybe he’s just under pressure. Abe, we need to contact the Embassy, surely? They’d be suspicious if we didn’t.”
“Embassies. Guy is a Brit, Robert Valois is French, Buchmann is a German, and Reynolds a US citizen.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. It would be a lot quicker to break them out.”
“It would make it worse for them if it backfired.”
“I guess it could,” he grinned, “so we’d better make sure we do it right. We’ve seen enough. We need to clear the area before they take too much interest in what we’re doing.”
They reached the truck, and Anika drove slowly and carefully back to the dig. They crammed into a single tent, and there was only one topic under discussion. Talley turned to the MI6 man.
“Jeffrey, you’re the resident expert, how do we get our guys out?”
“You’re going about it all wrong,” he man replied. “You have an important mission here in Iran which must take precedence. You have to locate the target and destroy it before they get hold of those nukes from Pakistan.”
“And what about my men? What’ll happen to them?”
Petersen thought for a few moments. “They were found in a suspicious location. They’ll be treated as spies, so that means they’ll be tried in front of a Revolutionary Court. I imagine they’ll be transferred later today to Evin Prison, that’s at Darakeh, a few miles west of here. It’s where they conduct the main interrogations of political prisoners. It could take a couple of years before their case is heard in a court. But listen, this group that’s about to bring in nuclear weapons from Pakistan, that has to take priority over four soldiers. I’ll help you investigate. I mean, I feel sorry for them, but…”
“What’s the route?”
“I’m sorry?”
“The route they’ll take, from Tehran to this jail.”
“Well, the transport will take the main highway, the Vali Asr. It runs all the way from Tehran to Evin. It will be a heavily armed prison convoy with plenty of troops, and they’ll likely have an armored car in support.” He sighed. “This is idiocy, Talley.”
“We’ll locate those Iranians, Petersen, and we’ll complete the operation. But first we get our people out. I don’t leave my people behind, not for anything. If they wind up inside this Evin prison, they may never get out. What’s the penalty for spying in this country?”
“They hang them from a crane in Sabalan Square in central Tehran.”
“Not these guys, they don’t. I’m going to need this truck. Anika, take your boss where he wants to go and bring the truck back here. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’ll do it. What about Imam Fard?”
“We’ll keep him with us. He’ll be our technical advisor.”
She smiled and nodded to Petersen. “Sir, we’d better go.”
Talley looked for Rovere. “Dom, I need to raise Carl Brooks. We’re going to need support for this one.”
“I’ll use the secure commlink.”
“Make it as quick as you can. The rest of you, start preparing your gear. We’re going to hit the prison transport on the road before it reaches Evin Prison.”
“What kind of attack are we looking at?” DiMosta asked him. “I mean, it’s daylight, and we’ll be tangling with a well-equipped force.”
“Shock and awe, Vince, shock, and awe. No bastard takes our guys prisoner and gets away with it. We’re going to hit them so hard, they’ll shit their pants from the word go. It’s the only way to get our guys out without them being hurt. Make sure everyone is in full kit with body armor.”
He smiled as he walked swiftly out. “Copy that.”
“Abe, I have Admiral Brooks on the commlink.”
Talley took the headset from Rovere. “Admiral, did Lieutenant Rovere explain the problem?”
“He did.” Even over the neutral tones of the decrypted audio, Talley could hear the curt, cold tone of Brooks’ voice. “But you’ll have to shelve it until your mission is completed, Talley.”
“I can’t do that, Sir.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“If they disappear inside the Pasdaran jail, they’ll be there for years, and they could wind up swinging from a crane in the main square. I won’t sacrifice them, Sir, not when there’s a chance of saving them. It’s not negotiable.”
“Talley, the mission has to take precedence.”
“It does, Sir, and those men are a vital part of the mission. As soon as we have them back, we’ll carry on and locate our target.”
He heard Brooks sigh. “I don’t like it, Talley.”
“No, Sir, but I doubt you got to be an Admiral by leaving your men behind in the shit.”
Talley heard the chuckle from the other end, “No, I guess not. What do you need?”
“An armed drone, Sir.”
“Over Iran, in daylight? The hell you do! No way!”
“It can be done,” he persisted. “What about the new drone, that Lockheed Martin developed? The Avenger, I think it’s called.”
“You know about that? It’s supposed to be classified, Lieutenant. It isn’t even in service yet.”
“Even better, Sir. It’ll be a chance to iron out the bugs.”
The Lockheed Martin Avenger was an advanced vertical take-off reconnaissance and attack drone. With a maximum payload of more than a thousand kilograms, no exposed rotors, and a service ceiling in excess of eight thousand meters, the Avenger could carry a variety of payloads to distant battlefields. It was also the first of its type to be built with stealth capability. Fitted with Lockheed manufactured Hellfire missiles, the drone was able take off from a limited area, like the deck of a warship or a jungle clearing, and deliver a massive punch to the enemy, yet avoid being picked up by hostile radar. Brooks was silent for a few momen
ts. Finally, he signaled his reluctant agreement.
“Very well, Lieutenant. I’ll put your request to SACEUR, that’s Admiral James G. Stavridis. I can’t guarantee he’ll go for it. He’ll be pretty pissed if it crash lands inside Iran.”
“He’d be even more pissed if those nukes found their way across the border, Sir.”
“Yeah, he would at that. You’re telling me that you have to have those men to complete the mission?”
Talley smiled. The message was clear. They needed to make a powerful case for the drone.
“Absolutely, Sir. It can’t be done without them.”
“He’s no fool, Talley. He’ll know what you’re up to.”
“He’s also military, Sir. Not the kind of guy to cut and run when your men are in trouble.”
“That’s true. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thank you, Sir. We’ll continue with our preparations and begin moving toward the intersect point.”
“You'll continue even without drone support? I can’t guarantee they’ll go for it.”
“Yes, we will. We’ll continue if we have to throw rocks at them, but those men are not going inside that Iranian prison. Just make it clear to the Admiral that without the drone, our job will be that much harder, maybe even impossible. Which means…”
“I hear you, Talley, and he’ll understand it too. Brooks out.”
Talley changed into his camo gear, armored vest, webbing, and helmet. He checked his weapons, the MP7, Sig Sauer P226 9mm automatic, and his combat knife and spare mags. He managed to slide into the next tent without being seen by the workers on the dig. The rest of the men were crammed into three tents, all of them armed and ready for action. He looked at Rovere.
“Any sign of Anika? She should be back any moment now.”
Domenico smiled and shrugged as they heard the sound of a truck engine approaching. One of the troopers looked out through the tent flap.
“It’s the truck coming back. It must be her.”
Anika reversed toward them so they could climb into the truck without being seen. Talley pushed Imam Fard into the back. He was trapped between two troopers who dwarfed the cringing Iranian, so he looked even more miserable. He ignored him, went around to the cab, and spoke quietly to Rovere on the commo. There was no need to give anything away to Fard, especially data about a super secret stealth drone.
“Domenico, switch on the satcom, and listen for Brooks’ call. If we don’t get that drone, it’ll be a damned hard fight. And don’t let Fard know anything about it.”
“Why is he coming with us, Abe? He could be a serious security risk.”
“I want him where I can keep an eye on him. You don’t think it was an accident those Revolutionary Guards went into that old cinema?”
“You think it was Fard?”
“Well it sure wasn’t Bigfoot. I’m not sure about him, but I want to cover the bases.”
“Copy that. I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Brooks.”
He saw Anika staring sideways at him. She looked puzzled.
“Drone? What’s that all about? You can’t have drones flying around over Tehran. They’ll go crazy if they find out.”
He explained about the stealth drone. She looked dubious.
“I doubt they’ll wear it. The Iranians have already shot down an American drone. The Pentagon won’t want to risk another.”
He looked at her grimly. “They have to, if they want us to carry on. Either way, we get those men out.”
“But Abe, you’ll be attacking a heavily defended prison convoy. Without air support, the casualties are likely to be heavy.”
“As long as it’s their casualties, that’s fine by me. We’ll manage.”
We’ll manage, because we always do. And when we stop managing, we die. It’s a simple equation.
They reached the highway, the Vali Asr, and drove along it until they reached what Talley had concluded was their most likely ambush point. It was the Parkway Bridge, a huge, busy intersection, with traffic crossing from several different directions. Close to the bridge, they found an abandoned factory building next to the Vali Asr. Vince DiMosta dropped off the truck and ran inside to set up his stand on the roof. Anika drove out again and headed for the road the led underneath the bridge where they could wait without being seen. It was a simple plan. Vince would shoot the driver of the prison transport, causing it to crash. His Accuracy International AWM was a rifle that could to do the job at twice the distance. They’d just have to hope Guy’s men weren’t hurt if the vehicle collided or turned over, but it was a chance they had to take. It should look like an innocent traffic accident; maybe the driver suffered a heart attack. The rest of the convoy would naturally stop to help the stricken vehicle, and Anika would drive the truck alongside and stop to help, as people would normally do with a traffic accident. Talley’s men would climb out, take the guards by surprise and cover them while they freed the prisoners. It wasn’t a plan without flaws. If the convoy did have an armored car in support, it could prove to be a tough nut to crack. And if there were too many guards, they’d quickly realize they had the advantage and could strike back hard at Talley’s force; too many ifs. They needed the drone, and so far, Brooks hadn’t come back to them; time was running short. Their best estimate was the convoy would be along in the next hour.
“We’re almost at the bridge,” Anika said. “Does the assault go ahead?”
“We go, whatever.”
“Echo One, the prison convoy is in sight.”
“Copy that, what’s their strength?”
A slight pause, “It’s not good, Boss. They have an armored car up front and another at the back, the old Soviet BTRs. They also have two truckloads of troops to look after the armored prison transport. It’ll be a bitch. What do you want me to do?”
He turned to Domenico. “Any word on that drone?”
“Nothing.”
Shit! Where's Brooks when I need him? Where's that drone? They’d better make up their minds. If they want Arash, they’d better come up with the goods. We're almost out of time.
Chapter Five
He cast around for alternatives, but there were none. He had to make a decision, right now.
“Vince, you got a shot?”
“Just about. The view is obscured when other vehicles go past, but yeah, I can take him.”
“Copy that. Wait for my word. Attention men, the operation is a go. I repeat. We are go. We move as soon as that prison transport goes off the road.”
He took a last look around. He could see the convoy in the distance, the ugly, squat shape of the Russian APC leading. In the center was the prisoner transport, a closed steel truck with tiny barred windows. It carried no markings. At front and back, the infantry trucks kept station, the troops seated in the rear. Apart from the convoy, there were no other threats in sight. No cops, no militia, nothing.
He smiled to himself. That convoy will be more than enough to deal with.
“This is Echo One. Echo Five, take the shot. Everyone, stand by.”
It took a few seconds for Vince to line up on the driver. Talley saw the windshield fracture into a thousand cracks as the bullet drove through and into the driver’s brain. The transport slewed across the roadway, lifted up on two wheels, almost as if it was about to overturn, and dropped back down. But the vehicle was also starting to spin around, and as it came nearer to Talley’s position, he could see the driver slumped in the cab, his forehead a bloody ruin. The guard next to him was wide-eyed with panic, as he fought to regain control of the stricken vehicle. The infantry trucks were pulling to a stop, and then the APC at the front braked hard so that the truck behind ran right into its back, catapulting the soldiers into a tangled panic. It was enough.
“Let’s go get ‘em. Vince, stay on that APC at the rear. Try and knock out the driver. Anika, start up and go alongside that prison transport. We’re just friendly passers-by, folks, good Samaritans. We’re just offering to lend a hand at a road tra
ffic accident. Heinrich, make sure you have the charge ready for that APC, or we’re in trouble. Let’s go, people!”
He looked at her as she fired up the truck. He hadn’t wanted her to come on the desperate rescue mission, yet he acknowledged the fact that her local expertise could tip the balance between success and failure. Between life and death. After just one night in a Brussels hotel, she was on his mind, almost constantly. And for a soldier, that was dangerous. He was fighting for his life and the life of his men. And he wanted the delectable Anika Frost to be a major part of his life.
She slammed their truck forward and accelerated to cross the short strip of roadway that separated them from the convoy, and braked to a stop. They were American troops in camo gear and armored vests, but Talley counted on shock and confusion to blind them to that reality until it was too late. They tumbled out of the truck, and the men of Echo Six went to work. To do what they did best. Anika was shouting at them in Persian that they were there to help. Unnoticed, Heinrich Buchmann darted forward and threw an improvised satchel charge below the hull of the stationary APC.
“Fire in the hole!”
He made ‘fire’ sound like ‘feuer’, but they got the message. The troopers threw themselves behind cover, and seconds later the bomb detonated. The blast was enough to disable the armored car, but the Russian BTR was laden with ammunition, and it literally blew apart as the munitions exploded in a massive secondary explosion. The Iranian militiamen had just dismounted from their truck, shocked and bruised, and they were hurled off their feet. It meant they were out of action, for a minute or two at least.
“This is One, take care of the second infantry transport. Heinrich, get the prison truck open. Vince, how’re you doing with that second APC?”
“Not good, Boss. The bastard swerved just as I fired. He’s out of my line of sight now. No, wait, he suspects something’s up. The turret just started to move. It’s turning and lining up on the prison transport. Shit, he’s…”
Whoever was in command of the armored car had quick reactions. A stream of machine gun bullets hammered into the tarmac just inches from the side of the prison transport. Maybe he’d noticed the unfamiliar uniforms, or maybe he had orders to shoot first and ask questions afterward. Whatever it was, he’d recovered fast, and the rescue plan was in danger of becoming a massacre almost before it started.