“Indeed. It used to be that I could put all my money in a bank in my home country of Switzerland and not have to worry about it. Now they can get to that. What has the world come to? Praise be to Allah for the Bank of Venezuela,” said the Mechanic.
Abdullah called the big blind; the General also called. The Mechanic paused.
“Fold,” he said.
“Cautious,” said the Colonel.
“Yes, well. I have learned the hard way to be very cautious among new company,” said the Mechanic.
Down went the flop. Things were looking good for Nasser; he already had three of a kind, Jacks.
“Raise $300,” said Nasser.
The Colonel folded.
“You know any of the history of this place?” said the Mechanic, turning to Nasser.
“No,” replied Nasser.
“Apparently, the Spanish Governor Juan Muñoz de Gadea had this magnificent place built in response to an attack by a Scottish pirate or buccaneer called Red Legs Greaves.”
“Fascinating,” said Nasser.
“You know what happens to pirates when they are caught?” asked the Mechanic.
The General smiled and counted his chips. “You know, I really am surprised that I have never met you before, Omar, honorary member of the government or not. I usually have to vet all members that are appointed. That was part of my job as Head of the Interior Ministry.”
“Lucky me, I guess,” said Nasser.
“Perhaps… Yes, I think you are right. I don’t think we have met. Your appointment would have come after I stepped down from the Interior Ministry,” said the General.
“Then that’s it solved,” smiled the Colonel.
“Not quite. You must be very lucky indeed, Omar,” said the General.
“What do you mean?” asked Nasser.
“I understood you had a little incident of your own a few days ago,” said the General.
Nasser looked at the General, slightly unnerved.
“The bomb attack on your convoy outside Sirte…you seem to have recovered well from your injuries. I understood you were hospitalized,” said the General.
Chapter 3
Retreat
ALEX AND ELVIS, sitting at the tables opposite, shared a knowing glance with each other. They could hear the conversation behind the curtain of the side room, but could not see what was going on. However, it seemed as though Nasser’s cover was about to be blown.
“Yes, just a few cuts and scrapes. Thankfully, I made it out alive,” said Nasser.
“Ah, yes, of course,” said the General, laughing.
The Mechanic gestured towards the Dealer who produced a handgun with a silencer from underneath the table and calmly pointed it at Nasser. The Mechanic put a finger to his lips. The Mechanic’s bodyguards were also unaware what was going on behind the curtain. Inside, a stand-off of sorts ensued for several moments. The Mechanic lifted out a pen and wrote on a napkin, showing it to Nasser.
“Who sent you?” said the note.
Nasser looked back at him and wrote on the napkin, “the Tooth Fairy”.
Unbeknownst to the others in the booth, Nasser quietly, slowly and deliberately started to press the back of his foot against the button underneath his seat, activating and deactivating the light outside. He managed to do it in a manner that did not draw the attention of the others in the room.
Marco, who was patrolling the edges of the roulette tables, glanced over to the room and saw the light flashing. It was Morse code, ‘SOS’ to be precise. Marco immediately recognised it from his days in the French Foreign Legion. He tried to draw the attention of Alex or Elvis without alerting the Mechanic’s bodyguards who were sitting opposite them outside of the poker booth. Finally, losing his patience, he waved his arms and Alex looked over. When they locked eyes, Marco pointed at the light above the curtain. Realising what was happening, Alex eyed Elvis who also looked up. Alex then nodded to Elvis and looked to the curtain as if to say ‘you go in’. Elvis nodded back.
Marco quickly rushed out of the doors of the hotel to Paddy, who was waiting on the steps. Paddy scrawled another note and sprinted over the flower pot to drop it in. Running back, he drew his weapon. The note read:
“Time to move. Mission compromised. Assistance required on casino floor. NOW”
Back in the Casino, Alex and Elvis jumped to their feet. Alex drew his weapon and shot both of the Mechanic’s bodyguards point blank before they could react. Meanwhile, Elvis burst into the poker room, shooting the Dealer in the back of the head, but not before the Dealer got a shot off, hitting Nasser in the right of the chest. All hell broke loose and, out of nowhere, several plain-clothed men on the casino floor produced weapons and began opening fire on the booth. Alex held the General, Colonel and the Mechanic on the ground at gunpoint whilst Elvis returned fire.
“Who the hell are these people?” shouted Alex.
“It’s the Venezuelan Secret Service. They guard this place!” replied Elvis.
Nasser was struggling for breath and was going to be pretty useless in a gun fight. Alex and Elvis pushed over the poker table on its side to form a makeshift palisade. Out on the casino floor, Marco began to engage the Venezuelan Secret Service. Paddy re-entered through the front door, but immediately came under fire and had to dive for cover behind a sofa in the reception. All parties let off shots from behind cover. However, it became clear that the international team were outnumbered by the Secret Service. A loud alarm sounded and the lights outside the hotel lit up. Marco retreated to Paddy’s position.
“Fancy seeing you here,” said Marco.
“It’s not going to be long before the Venezuelan Army gets here,” warned Paddy.
At that moment there were three loud bangs around the casino floor. The windows had been smashed by explosives. Immediately, the lights went out and the sprinkler system engaged. Amidst the shouting, it became clear that the SEALs had swung into action, entering through the windows. Within seconds the SEALs were over with Paddy and Marco.
“What’s the situation?” asked the Lieutenant.
“We have plainclothes Secret Service all over the floor. It’s hard to tell precisely how many there are. Elvis, Alex and Nasser are over in that booth with the Mechanic and two others,” said Paddy.
“Right, we’ll clear the room and evacuate ASAP,” said the Lieutenant.
More SEALs moved in through the front door, firing smoke grenades onto the casino floor. Systematically, they effectively liquidated each member of the Venezuelan Secret Service. Several SEALs eventually made it to the poker room and moved out the Mechanic and the Libyans, whilst Alex and Elvis assisted Nasser.
When they made it to the rendezvous point in the woods, Lieutenant Graham carried out a quick head count. “Right, that’s everyone. Is anyone hurt?” said the Lieutenant.
“Yes, Nasser,” said Paddy.
Nasser was still struggling to breathe.
“He’s been shot in the chest,” said Elvis.
“Nasser, can you move?” asked the Lieutenant.
Nasser nodded his head, gasping for breath. At that, the team moved through the brush closer to the shore. Although the beach was clearly in sight, there was a distinctive sound of trucks being mobilized in the distance.
“Do you hear that?” said Jake.
“Yeah! Jake, can you, Max and Taylor set up a perimeter three hundred yards from the boats. We will need to decide whether to ditch the boats and take cover,” replied Lieutenant Graham.
The Mechanic began screaming and shouting, trying to draw attention to the team’s location. “Help, Help, Help!” Paddy took the back of his pistol and hit the Mechanic over the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.
As they approached the boats, Naval Special Warfare Development Group were guarding the beach. Marco and Paddy pulled the unconscious Mechanic onto the beach with the Libyan Colonel and General in tow.
“Wait!” said Marco.
“What’s that?” said Paddy.
In the distance, a helicopter could be seen overhead, coming along the ridge of the mountains.
“Is it coming this way?” said Marco.
“Yes!” said a member of the Special Naval Special Warfare Development Group.
“Let’s move back to the treeline,” shouted the Lieutenant.
As they retreated, the Lieutenant could make out the unmistakable sound of Jake’s unit opening fire on the approaching Venezuelan Army.
“Can we make a secure emergency call for a pick-up?” Lieutenant Graham asked his communications officer.
“We can make the call, but there’s no guarantee the Venezuelans won’t be listening,” replied the officer.
“Ok, send this message. ‘Primary objective achieved. Secondary objective not achieved. Under fire, move position of evac to…’” The Lieutenant paused to survey the dark coastline. “‘Move position one kilometre to the west. Watch for our signal.’ Right, guys, let’s move out.”
At that, a member of SEAL Team 6 approached Lieutenant Graham.
“We will cover your exit, sir. Do not stop for any reason,” he said.
“What about you guys?” replied Lieutenant Graham.
“Sir, you should know, we’re trained for exactly this type of thing, evade and disrupt.”
“I’ll be recommending all of you for the Medal of Honour, sailor.”
“Recommend that they come and rescue us if we’re captured!”
The team began to retreat through the treeline. The front line of the battle was about half a mile wide and this meant that SEAL Team 6 were having to space themselves out several hundred yards apart. There was then an inner layer that was backtracking, led by Jake, Max and Taylor. The remaining SEALs were up at the flank with the international team and prisoners being protected in the middle. The team retreated in layers: three members of SEAL Team 6 would cover the other retreating three who would then re-establish a position allowing the front three to retreat as well. This battlefield tactic was known to Paddy as ‘line dancing’, although he’d never seen it in action before.
There were now two helicopters in the air. As time went by and the team moved further and further away from the original evacuation point, the distance between the main team and SEAL Team 6 began to widen substantially. There also appeared to be more activity at ground level and more Venezuelan troops appearing in the distance.
Then there was a large explosion, quite close to Paddy’s position.
“Incoming, mortar fire!” called Elvis.
Paddy looked back and realised that although Taylor and the other SEALs in Jake’s sub unit had retreated, Jake himself had not.
“Keep moving!” Paddy shouted to the rest of the international team.
Paddy turned and crawled closer to Jake’s position. It was as he’d feared; the mortar had landed close to Jake. He pulled Jake over on his back and checked to see whether he was still breathing. Jake came to, slightly dazed and clearly shell-shocked. Paddy could make out further gunfire in the distance, and he estimated that there must have been about a half mile of separation between the front and the flank by this stage.
“Jake, I have to move you. Mortars are landing all over the show.”
Paddy lifted Jake onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Jake was not a small man, he was about six foot four and weighed over two hundred pounds. The mortars were becoming greater in frequency and more pronounced than before. Noticing a small pond, Paddy jumped in with Jake still on his back. He found some shrubbery over in the corner of the pond and covered their heads.
Meanwhile, at the flanks, the rest of the team had moved further down the beach. The Lieutenant decided that it was time to send a signal.
“Right, light up a dark candle.”
A dark candle was a special type of flare that had only been recently developed by the US military. It was designed to locate military personnel during compromised extractions. The flare emitted a unique ultraviolet light only visible through a special lens.
Within minutes, the Lieutenant could make out several high-speed craft coming toward the shore. These were the same craft that had been sitting offshore awaiting the signal. All members of the team, bar Paddy, Jake and SEAL Team 6, regrouped on the beach. The Lieutenant did a headcount.
“We’re missing Paddy and Jake!”
The Lieutenant ran back to the tree line and shouted. However, as he did, he noticed that the two helicopters were beginning to move closer to their location.
“We have to move!” shouted one of the SEALs.
“Right, let’s go!” ordered the Lieutenant.
When the boats came ashore, Lieutenant Graham’s team immediately jumped aboard. The Mechanic had been gagged at this stage with duct tape to avoid another screaming episode. In what seemed like seconds, the boats had left the shore and were heading back to sea at full throttle. The helicopters patrolling the coast did not appear to have detected the boats carrying out the evacuation. It seemed that the evacuation team had a clear run to international waters.
Back onshore, SEAL Team 6 were beginning to retreat to Paddy and Jake’s position. Paddy could even hear the voices of Venezuelan soldiers less than a few hundred yards away. Then, as if out of nowhere, a member of SEAL Team 6 appeared beside the pond.
Paddy whispered, “Hey, over here.” The SEAL initially did not notice.
“HEY!” Paddy said louder. This time, the SEAL turned and pointed his weapon at Paddy.
“Wait, it’s me, Paddy. I have Jake here,” said Paddy.
“Where’s the rest of the team?” asked the SEAL.
“Gone, I think!” replied Paddy.
“Right, we need to get you guys to a safer location. Is Jake ok?” said the SEAL.
“Yeah, I think he might just be concussed. Mortar fire landed a little close for comfort,” said Paddy.
“OK, two seconds. I need to explain the situation to the rest of the team,” said the SEAL. The SEAL used hand signals to communicate with another member of his unit. He then crawled over to the edge of the pond, where Paddy and Jake were standing. “Jake! Jake…” said the SEAL.
Jake looked up, still dazed but more alert to his surroundings than he was previously.
“How you doing? Can you move ok?”
Jake nodded. “I think so.”
“Right, here’s the plan, Paddy. You will retreat with Jake as far westward as you can. I will scout you loosely whilst covering the rear of the rest of my unit. We will rendezvous on the outskirts of the nearest town, Arenitas. Wait there for as long as you can. If it becomes clear that myself or my unit will not make the rendezvous point, I want you to find cover in the town and follow the standard protocol for contacting US assets on the ground, as you were briefed. Is that ok?”
“Yeah,” said Paddy. He pulled Jake out of the lake and the SEAL disappeared back into the mist of darkness.
Fortunately for Paddy and Jake, the mortars had become more concentrated closer to the forward position of the SEALs. It seemed they had done a good job of drawing the fire of the Venezuelans.
Paddy began attempting to jog with Jake’s arm over his shoulder as Jake limped along.
“I think I might have broken my ankle,” said Jake.
“You took a pretty big hit, I think, when that mortar dropped. You must have landed funny,” said Paddy.
It seemed like forever that they were moving along the tree line. Paddy mustered all of his strength and fitness to move Jake along. After three-quarters of a mile, they lay down for a rest.
“You know, I underestimated you, brother. You are a brave son of a bitch coming back for me,” said Jake
“You would’ve done the same.” said Paddy.
“Yeah, but that’s my job. To protect you guys. Your objectives were different to mine. You didn’t need to come back for me,” said Jake.
“Well, what is it you guys say, no man left behind, etc,” said Paddy.
“Actually, that’s the Rangers, but yeah.” said Jake.
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“So I hear, in fact the saying first arose when you Yanks were all British,” said Paddy.
“Yeah right, man, whatever,” replied Jake.
“No, for real. It actually came twenty years before you guys declared independence, during the French and Indian War in 1756. The American and British Rangers were the first to display the principle of no man left behind,” explained Paddy.
“How do you know all this stuff?” asked Jake.
“I was a scholar of military history at Sandhurst.”
“How’d you get that gig?” asked Jake.
“It interested me. And I was a close friend of the visiting lecturer. His name was Colonel Maxwell,” said Paddy.
Jake’s ears suddenly perked up. “What’s that?”
There was a sound of barking dogs. However, this time the sound wasn’t coming from their forward position; this time it was coming from the rear.
“Get low, do absolutely nothing, do not move a muscle,” whispered Jake.
“But they’ll find us,” said Paddy.
“Quiet, the dogs already know where we are. They’re going to come close. Do not move a muscle. Let them do what they have to do,” replied Jake.
Jake and Paddy stared at each other in silence as the animals drew close. They were large German Shepherds. The first one jumped on Jake and bit his leg, but only gently. It then began sniffing Paddy up and down. The second arrived and simply stood and watched. After a few moments of sussing out Jake and Paddy, the first German Shepherd lifted his leg on Jake and then moved over to Paddy. The other followed suit. Then as quickly as they had arrived, the dogs ran off again in search of something else.
“I got peed on,” said Paddy.
“Better than getting torn apart,” replied Jake.
“How’d you know they’d do that?” asked Paddy.
“It’s part of our training. Let the dogs be the boss. Once they piss on you, they own you and you are no longer perceived a threat,” said Jake.
“We have to move,” said Paddy.
“Yeah. Although there’s gonna be a search team not far behind those dogs. We’ll need to be on our guard.”
As they moved through the brush, sure enough, they saw torches a few hundred yards in front of them.
The Keepers of the Persian Gate Page 5