by Terry Toler
Bae was now in the front seat, the satchel at her feet. I was curious to get in it and see what was there but didn’t want to force a confrontation. She was still leery of me, and I didn’t blame her. Even though I saved her life, she may have thought that I did so to get my hands on the satchel. I had more work to do to earn her full trust.
“You’re welcome. But I did it for me,” I said with a grin. “I couldn’t take that man’s smell for another second.”
“I know!” Bae crinkled her nose. “Ewww. That man was gross. And he had no teeth. Yuk!”
It felt good to let out a little tension. If only for a moment.
Bae’s tone turned more sober. “That man would’ve raped me if you hadn’t been there.”
“I’m just glad I was there,” I said.
“I tried to fight him off,” Bae said with a far-off look, “but he was too big and strong.”
“Size has nothing to do with it,” I said.
“What do you mean? He was a lot bigger than me. I was no match for him.”
“A blow to the right spot, and any man will fall to the ground. There were several times when you could’ve disabled him if you knew what you were doing.”
“Will you teach me?”
I didn’t answer right away. The Iranians in my rearview mirror had more of my attention. They followed us away from the police station and then dropped back and were keeping a safe distance away. Probably just out of the range of the RPK-74 assault rifle. Showing it to them had done the trick. They were hesitant to attack us. For now. They’d make their move as soon as we were outside the city limits which would be soon.
“Can you show me some moves?” Bae asked again excitedly, sitting up in the seat.
“I will. But not right now. I’m worried about losing the Iranians.”
Bae turned in the seat and looked behind us. “I thought we did lose them,” she said.
“Do you see those headlights?” I asked, pointing.
She nodded.
“That’s the Iranians.”
“How do you know it’s them?” she asked.
“I just know.”
“Why are they so far back then?”
I said, “Let’s find out. Do you want to learn some more spy moves?”
“Sure.”
At the next street, I turned right.
“Keep your eyes peeled for those headlights,” I said.
Bae turned around in the seat, so that she was facing behind us, peering over the headrest.
“There they are,” she said excitedly. “They turned too.”
At the next street, I took another right.
“Watch for the car,” I said.
“It turned again,” Bae shouted a few seconds later.
I took another right.
The Iranians turned again and kept following us.
Another right and I was back on the main road.
“You were right,” Bae said. “The car followed us the whole time.”
“That’s a good move to detect if someone is tailing you. Make four consecutive right-hand turns. Nobody does that unless they’re following you. We call it losing a tail. If I were really trying to lose them, I would’ve executed the turns faster. I was just showing you how to find out if someone is following you.”
“Oh . . . Why didn’t you try to lose them?” Bae asked.
“These guys are professionals. We aren’t going to get rid of them easily. These are basic moves I’m showing you.”
“Now they know you know they’re following us. If I said that right.”
“I wanted them to. If they know I’m on to them, that'll make them hesitate to make a move. There’s another move that will detect if someone’s after you, but I don’t want to do it now. It’s too dangerous.”
“What’s that?” Bae asked.
“Pull off on an exit and then get right back on. If the car matches your move, then you know they’re following you. You can also just pull off the side of the road. If they pull off as well, then they’re a tail. Also, you can speed up and slow down. If the car matches your moves, then you’re being followed.”
“How do you lose a tail?” Bae asked.
“Good question. There are several ways.”
“Will you teach me some of them?” she asked.
“If you stop at a light, that’s a good place to lose a tail. When it turns green, don’t move. Just stay stopped. This works really well if there’s another driver stopped at the light going in the other direction. As soon as it turns red, then floor it. You have to get through the intersection before the other driver does. They’ll block the person following you.”
“That makes sense. The Iranians were chasing me on my bike. I should’ve done that then. I just ran through the red lights. That’s why the policeman stopped me.”
I figured Bae had a run in with the Iranians before I met her. She’s lucky to have survived it.
“Another thing to do is turn off the road at the last second. If the person is tailing you, he won’t have time to react.”
“You sure do know a lot about being a spy,” Bae said.
“Well . . . I’ve been doing it for a while.”
“Do you think we can lose them?” Bae asked.
Before I could answer, the Iranians made their move. Their headlights were suddenly illuminating the inside of our car. Losing them was no longer an option. I knew it was going to take every bit of my abilities just to get us out of this alive.
“Put your seatbelt on!” I shouted to Bae.
She let out a shriek as the Iranians came up on us fast. They hit us in the rear end, trying to cause us to spin out. The police cruiser fishtailed but held the road. The tires weren’t completely bald. I sped up to try to take advantage of their lost momentum.
A shot rang out. Barely perceptible. Most people wouldn’t even notice it, if they didn’t know what a gunshot from a moving car sounded like. I began to serpentine back and forth on the road. No other cars were in sight.
Bae gripped the door handle until her knuckles were white.
I sped up and slowed down to keep the Iranians off balance.
It’s nearly impossible to get off a good shot when both cars are moving, especially on a road as bad as those in North Korea. I had to constantly avoid the potholes to keep from damaging a tire. Even then, that didn’t mean the Iranian couldn’t get off a lucky shot. But I felt better that they were behind us and not beside our car.
As if on cue, the Iranians sped up and tried to get beside us. I was able to block them. They tried again. This time I let them. When they were right beside us, the Iranian in the passenger seat leaned out the window and tried to steady the gun to get off a shot. At just the right moment, I slammed on the brakes, and his shot went careening harmlessly off into the field to our right.
Now I was behind them. I sped up rapidly and hit the Iranians at just the right angle to send them into a spin. Bae was amazingly quiet. Either paralyzed in fear or in control of her emotions. I wasn’t sure, but it helped that she wasn’t screaming in my ear. That would be a distraction I didn’t need at the moment.
The Iranians didn’t go into the ditch like I’d hoped but were facing the wrong direction when they came to a stop. I used that opportunity to speed away. Putting some distance between us was my top priority.
I gave Bae more instructions even though the road was getting most of my attention. “Another way to lose a car is when you go around a curve, take a side road if one is there. Don’t do it unless you’re out of their sight and the road goes somewhere. Otherwise, you’ll get trapped on that side road. If it works, they’ll continue on, and you can go back the way you came. Let’s look for a road.”
“What about a railroad crossing?” Bae asked.
“What about it?”
“There’s a train just ahead,” she said pointing at it. We’d been running beside train tracks for several miles. A train was just ahead, going in the same direction. We were coming up on it fr
om the back.
“I know these roads,” Bae said. “My dad and I ride our motorcycles out here all the time. If you hurry, you can beat them to the crossing. If you can get across to the other side of the tracks before they do, they’ll have to wait for the train to pass, and we can get away.”
“You’re brilliant!” I said, flooring the car even more. It hesitated but eventually built up more speed. The sedan groaned and creaked under the strain. I felt like I was playing a video game trying to dodge all the ruts in the road.
“How far is the crossing?” I asked, as I saw the Iranian headlights again in my rearview mirror. They were back on our tail and gaining. Their car was newer and faster than ours.
“Just a couple of miles ahead. You’re going to have to hurry to beat the train to the crossing”
Another mile and the Iranians had already caught up to us. The crossing was our best option if we could make it.
I pushed the car to its limit. The crossing was now in view. So was the front of the train. I assessed the angles in my mind. If I got to the crossing too late, then we were stuck on the road with the Iranians. It seemed like they were gaining the advantage. If I arrived too early, we would both make it through the crossing before the train, and I didn’t know the road on the other side. If I arrived at just the wrong time, our bodies could be plastered on the front of the train along with our car.
Picturing it all in mind, I slowed down slightly.
“Why did you slow down?” Bae asked.
I didn’t answer. I had to concentrate. The margin of error was in the milliseconds, and I didn’t want to calculate incorrectly, or we’d end up dead. Too much was on the line for that to happen. I had to get that satchel to the CIA. And I had to stop Pok before he hacked into the CIA server and accessed all the secret information.
Slowing down didn’t give away my plan to the Iranians. They’d be confused. That’s what I wanted. The crossing was getting closer. If I timed it right, the Iranians might overshoot the crossing altogether.
“Hang on,” I shouted to Bae.
I turned the wheel sharply, putting the car into a slide, steering into it with all my strength. When I regained control, I gunned the engine. It was a race to the crossing. The train was coming fast. The crossing wasn’t flat. It wasn’t even a crossing like what I was used to seeing in America. There were no lights or gates. The makeshift dirt road was at a slight incline and then went over two sets of tracks. The road on the other side went down another incline where the road made a sharp curve.
The car bounced wildly when we hit the tracks. For a moment, I thought the car would stall, but it continued on. The sound of the train was deafening. The earth shook, and the car vibrated so much that we were shaking like we were on a roller coaster at an amusement park ride at Disneyland.
I thought we had more time to spare. I panicked and hit the accelerator. The car jerked forward, and we were catapulted down the hill on the other side of the tracks. We cleared the tracks just a half second before the train blew through the crossing, trapping the Iranians on the other side.
Now I had a different problem. Just on the other side of the tracks was a sharp curve. Off the curve were cliffs, with a huge drop off.
“Hang on!” I shouted.
I slammed on the brakes, and the car skidded to a halt. Just feet away from a plunge to our certain death.
We both just sat there. In silence. My hands gripped the wheel and my knuckles were as white as Bae’s.
“That was too close,” I said, my voice cracking.
I heard Bae let out a deep sigh.
When I got my wits back about me, I assessed the car. It had stalled. I started it and started driving away. A loud thumpity-thump sound was coming from one of the tires which was obviously flat.
I pulled the car ahead, so it was just around the curve, out of the line of sight. I grabbed the gun out of the center console and got out of the car and leaned back on the hood.
“What are you doing?” Bae said.
“Waiting for the Iranians,” I said.
22
What happened to the Iranians was a matter of basic geometry. The study of points, lines, angles, and intersections. Solids and spaces. Objects coming together at a common point.
In their defense, the Iranians didn’t see what I saw.
How could they? Their view was blocked by the southbound train, which was taking its time getting through the crossing, successfully blocking them from getting to us.
My plan was to fill their car with lead as soon as they crossed over to our side of the tracks. I had twenty-four rounds of ammunition. Curly always said to count them before you go into a gunfight. My hope was that my bullets hit them before theirs hit me or I ran out of ammunition.
If I ran out of ammunition, I was as good as dead. In that event, Bae was to run in the woods with the satchel, and I would hold them off as long as I could. Not an ideal plan, but the best I could come up with under the circumstances.
Their plan was clear as well. To race through the intersection as soon as the southbound train cleared the crossing and catch back up to us. They were probably cursing their luck. Hoping we didn’t get away with the head start the train had afforded us.
There were two things the Iranians didn’t know. One was that we had a flat tire and were waiting for them on the other side. We had no head start. The only thing I could do was force a confrontation. In that sense, I had the element of surprise working for me. They wouldn’t see me or my gun until they came around the curve.
The other thing they didn’t know was that there were two trains. A southbound and a northbound. One on each track going in opposite directions.
My mind was processing the geometric equations like a computer. I could see both trains clearly. The northbound freight train was barreling toward the crossing. The southbound train would be clear of the intersection shortly. At some point the beginning of one train and the end of the other would cross. That was a mathematical certainty. The entire equation could be calculated by any high school student if they knew the distance between them and the speed they were going.
What made the equation more difficult was whether it be at the exact moment I was hoping for. At the crossing. Is it possible that the southbound train could clear the crossing just seconds before the northbound train entered it? Could I be that lucky? The odds were astronomical.
Yet, things always seemed to work out that way for me. Jamie said it was divine providence. That God’s hand was watching out for me. Curly, my handler, said that we were in a battle between good and evil. Stay on the good side and good things will happen, he had said. Some of my colleagues attributed it to a force of the universe, karma, so to speak. Me? I believed in the God of the Bible and always attributed my good fortune to the protection of the Trinity―God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit. My mother would be proud that I still remembered some things from my upbringing.
I never believed in God more than I did at that moment when the trains aligned in the exact geometric equation almost exactly as it had played out in my mind. When the southbound train cleared the crossing, the Iranians didn’t stop to look to see if there was another train on the second set of tracks. A common mistake often made in the states. I only knew about it because my dad spent time around the railroads and drilled in us crossing safety.
The Iranians almost cleared the intersection before the second train arrived.
Almost.
Divine providence.
Had the northbound train arrived at the crossing one second later, the Iranians would’ve cleared it. Probably shaken from the close call but thinking Allah had saved them. One second earlier, and the crossing would’ve been blocked, and the gunfight would’ve only been delayed by the length of time it took the northbound train to clear the intersection.
As it was, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. From my perspective, not theirs. Good overcame evil. God overcame Allah. Some would say the stars a
ligned. I didn’t believe in that stuff. To me the irrefutable laws of geometry aligned.
A. The southbound train cleared the crossing.
B. The Iranians drove into the crossing thinking it was clear.
C. The northbound train entered the crossing at the exact moment the Iranians did.
B intersected with C at the same time and in the same space.
“If a train hits you, the train will always win,” my dad used to say.
The train caught the back end of the Iranians car just enough to send it sideways and with enough force to catapult the car into a violent roll. It sounded like a thousand-piece high school band all playing in the wrong key. Combined with the roar of the train, the noise generated by the two was ear-splitting. The sparks from the impact lit up the sky like a firework’s show.
I grabbed Bae and pulled her close to me to hide her eyes from the devastation unfolding before us. The Iranian car flipped over and over again until it finally came to rest on the edge of the cliff. I could feel her peeking around my grip. Like any car crash, it’s human nature to have to look. It’s hard to resist.
When the Iranian’s car finally came to a stop, I told Bae to wait by the car and ran toward the wreckage. I didn’t even bother raising my gun. There was no way they survived that crash. The car wasn’t even recognizable. As I got close, what was left of the car began to teeter and rock slightly until gravity took over, and it plunged over the cliff. It bounded down the side, rolling several more times until it exploded, sending a large plume of black smoke into the air.
At the bottom of the cliffs was a swift river. The car and its plume of smoke plunged into the waterway, sending a cascade of water in several directions while putting out the flames. The car landed on its top, so its mangled wheels and undercarriage were the only things showing. About twenty to thirty feet down the river, the vehicle sank to the bottom.
My body was numb as I stood on the edge of the cliff, taking in the entire scene, trying to process all the ramifications of what just happened. I dropped to my knees to thank God for saving us.
After the prayer, I had the presence of mind to check my surroundings. No one was around. We were the only ones who saw what happened. The northbound train cleared the crossing, and there was no sign of it slowing down or stopping. The engineer either didn’t see or feel the impact or didn’t care. He probably had a schedule to keep and figured whoever got hit by the train was in a pile of rubble that someone else could sort out.