“Get down,” said Paddy.
“This is a mop-up crew. They’ve worked out that the forward unit are covering a retreat. They should pass us ok,” whispered Jake.
Paddy and Jake waited for five minutes as the crew passed.
“They just look like regular police officers,” said Paddy. Jake said nothing as the two sat and observed the crew move beyond their position.
“Shall we move?” whispered Paddy.
“No,” said Jake.
“Why not?” said Paddy.
“It’s a set up…look to the third tree from the beach. You can see the silhouette of a rifle pointing about twenty degrees to our left,” said Jake.
“Jesus, you’ve got good eyes,” said Paddy.
“He’s covered himself well. There’s no guarantee it’s just him either,” said Jake.
“What do you suggest?” asked Paddy.
“We’re going to have to lure any others,” said Jake.
“With what?” asked Paddy.
“Bait!” said Jake, turning to Paddy with a wry smile.
“Where do you want me…?” asked Paddy.
“Sprint to the beach and dive into the waves. That will make it harder for them to hit you. Ok, 3, 2, 1…GO!” said Jake.
Paddy jumped to his feet, almost tripping. Shots came from two angles, first from the previously identified sniper and second from someone on the tree line. Jake reacted quickly, immediately shooting the sniper. However, Paddy blocked the view of the second gunman who had now appeared to dive for cover himself. The gunfire had also alerted the canine unit that had previously passed their position.
Jake looked around and shouted to Paddy. “RUN!”
Jake stood and began hopping towards the position of the second gunman, who was training on Paddy. Jake pulled a grenade from his belt and threw it directly at the position of the gunman. The grenade completely wiped out the second threat; however, the sound alerted everyone to Paddy and Jake’s position. That included the main body of the Venezuelan force which was engaged with the rest of the remaining members of SEAL Team 6.
Paddy sprinted back to Jake and helped him to limp along. As they cleared the trees, they spotted the loom of lights about a half mile in front of them over a hill. “There it is - the town!” said Paddy. They had reached an embankment on the outskirts of the town, with a decent view of the surrounding area. They paused for breath.
“Ok, we wait here for a while. If we spot anyone coming out of the woods we need to make a break into the town,” said Jake.
“Where to?” asked Paddy.
“I would say the harbour, but it’s going to be crawling by the morning with people looking for us. That’s where they would expect us to go. Although we could try and get out on a fishing boat or something like that,” said Jake.
***
The pair waited for over an hour. They were conscious that this was the rendezvous point, but there was no sign of any of the SEALs. Moreover, the sound of gunfire had stopped about fifteen minutes before.
“Well, what’s the plan?” asked Paddy.
“I think we’re clear to sunrise. Despite my initial fears, I can’t see anyone tailing us anymre, and anyone that was has clearly moved back towards SEAL Team 6. We can’t stay here forever obviously. By morning that bay will be completely crawling with naval vessels searching for us. They will be expecting a northerly extraction,” replied Jake. He pulled out a handheld GPS out of his pocket.
“What are you doing?” asked Paddy.
“If I am correct, there is another town not far from here, on the south side of the peninsula. We may be able to find somewhere to lay low and ride this out before making contact with command,” said Jake.
Jake played around a bit with the GPS. “Yes, I was right. It’s a place called Boca De Rio. It’s a bit of journey, about six miles through the mountains but if we move now under cover of darkness we should be able to get there in a few hours.”
“Is that the best we got?” asked Paddy.
“That’s the best we got,” replied Jake.
“What about your ankle?” asked Paddy.
“I think it’s just a sprain; it feels better,” replied Jake. He picked up a large branch and broke off the twigs. “This will do as a hiking stick. Hopefully, we can make it before dawn if we move quick enough.”
With that, the two moved quickly into the wilderness and the mountains.
Chapter 4
Evacuation
SEVERAL HOURS PASSED, as the pair made their journey through the mountains. Although the forest was dense, the outline of the terrain was clear in the moonlight.
When they reached the saddle of the last two mountains overlooking Boca Del Rio, they could make out a clear road to their destination. Within an hour they were on the outskirts of the town.
“It’s about ten minutes to dawn,” said Paddy.
“We need to make a call about where we go. Where will be friendly…” said Jake.
“Down there, that looks like an abandoned warehouse doesn’t it?” said Paddy.
“Yeah, let’s check it out.”
As they approached the door, Paddy noticed it was padlocked.
“Stand aside,” said Jake, as he smashed the door in with his better foot. When they got inside, Jake began barricading the door in case anyone decided to walk in. “We need to get a couple of hours sleep. It might be the last chance we get for a while.”
“You go first,” said Paddy.
“Wake me up in an hour or so. Don’t fall asleep yourself. There could be a team of police officers at that door at any moment so remain alert,” said Jake.
After about twenty minutes or so, the sound of light traffic began to rumble around the town. Paddy climbed up a ladder to a window to have a look. The window was dirty, so he gave it a wipe with the back of his sleeve.
Paddy walked back over to his bag and turned on his radio. There was plenty of activity, so Paddy turned down the volume and put in his ear piece. His Spanish, let alone his knowledge of the Venezuelan dialect, was poor to say the least. However, he could hear regular reference to various parts of the island, as well as the word ‘americanos’. There was a lot of discussion of the Macanao Peninsula and “norte” which Paddy assumed meant north. He also heard a reference to ‘preso’ which was alarming as he knew this meant ‘prisoner’.
Jake stirred. “How long was I out?” he asked.
“Only about thirty minutes. Get some more sleep,” replied Paddy.
“Not a chance, brother. I won’t get any more,” said Jake.
Jake stood with difficulty and walked over to the ladder to get his own view of Boca Del Rio. “You know, our best next move should be to get out of these clothes.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll just nip down the road to the clothes shop… What’s your preference, Hugo Boss or Ralph Lauren?” said Paddy.
Jake laughed.
“You know, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland members of the Irish Republican Army used to claim sanctuary in Catholic churches in order to hide from Security forces.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Well, there’s a small church over there,” said Paddy.
“Do you really think that would work?”
All Catholic church grounds are property of the Vatican, a sovereign state. Churches are merely an extension of that sovereignty. In Northern Ireland they were considered embassies of refuge. The British Army could not and did not follow.
“Yeah, but the second you go outside, you’re arrested,” said Jake.
“Exactly, so it all depends on what the priest does when you’re on the inside,” replied Paddy.
“Who’s to say he won’t raise the alarm?” said Jake
“Well, that’s why we have money with us, isn’t it?” said Paddy.
“And what’s to say a man of the Lord will be open to bribery?” asked Jake.
“Think of it as a donation to the church,” replied Paddy.
“Mig
ht as well try,” said Jake.
Jake pulled back the boxes which he had used to barricade the door. Once these were out of the way, he peered outside. It was about 0700 hours, and he could see one or two people walking across the streets in the distance. The church was two blocks away.
“Go, go!” whispered Paddy.
The pair ran across the street, but, as they did, a small fruit van came round the corner and they were forced to dive into an alleyway. The van stopped at a give way point at the end of the alley. Paddy and Jake hid behind a set of trashcans as they waited for it to drive on. The driver had his windows down and was singing along to some Latino music.
“Did it see us?” asked Paddy.
The truck revved up and moved on.
“Thank God,” said Jake.
The pair ran back out onto the road and made their way into the church grounds by climbing over a fence to the rear of the building. Cautiously, they moved along the side the church, heads down, towards the front steps. Fortunately for them, the front doors were wide open. There was a nun praying in the front pew. She turned around and looked at them. She was very startled to see Paddy and Jake.
“Americans?” she said in English.
“Well, American and British,” said Paddy.
“This way, this way,” she said. The nun quickly ran to the front doors, slamming them shut and securing several bolts. She then escorted Paddy and Jake to a back room of the church where there was a small quarters and living area. “They are looking for you. But you will be safe here,” she said.
“Thank you. We need to get a message out to our command. Do you know anywhere from which we can send an e-mail?”
“We have a computer here with internet,” explained the nun.
Paddy smiled at Jake. In their briefings prior to disembarkation from the Nimitz, each of the team had been provided with a miniature modem which could connect to any PC with an internet connection. The modem uploaded its software into any computer to which it was inserted. The software would then operate to secure the computer and any communications emanating from it. Text, location and recipient details would all be scrambled so that any message that was sent could not be intercepted. The team were also each provided with a unique plastic card with a sealed tear-off label. Hidden under the label was a specific e-mail address assigned to each member of the team.
Paddy inserted the modem into the computer. Within seconds, the modem began to upload and install the secure messaging system. Paddy tore off the label and read the e-mail address: [email protected]. He typed in the address. The e-mail subject was ‘Boca de Rio’. He typed the main body of the e-mail: “Paddy and Jake, taken sanctuary in…”
“What’s the name of this church?” asked Paddy.
“Basílica de la Virgen del Valle.”
Paddy typed it in, and further explained in the e-mail, “We are safe for now. Separated from Naval Special Warfare Development Group, who covered our westward retreat. Unsure of their status. Moved south as north coast would be unfriendly come morning. Suggest southerly extraction. Await instructions.” Paddy hit send.
“What now?”
“I guess we wait,” said Jake.
“Yeah… I guess so. Sister, where is the priest? Will he have a problem with us being here?” enquired Paddy.
“He will be arriving shortly. It is market day in town so he usually goes down to that first. Don’t worry I will speak to him upon his arrival. He is a Spanish national so there shouldn’t be a problem,” said the nun.
“Where are you from?” asked Jake.
“I am Venezuelan. My name is Sister Sarcos. You needn‘t worry about me,” said the Sister.
“Sorry, it’s just that you have excellent English skills,” replied Paddy.
“I worked as a teacher in the USA for some years before coming back to Venezuela and finding God. You must be tired. Can I get you something to eat or drink?” offered Sister Sarcos.
“If you have coffee that would be lovely,” said Paddy.
“Please,” said Jake.
With that, Sister Sarcos left the room and disappeared to a kitchen around the corner. Jake didn’t seem to have too much trust in the locals. “I don’t buy that about her being a teacher.”
“Ah, would you come off it? She’s helped us this far,” said Paddy.
Suddenly, a message appeared on the computer screen. “Oh, new mail,” said Paddy. He opened the message.
“Message received, assets on the ground moving to your position. They will provide further instruction.”
Sister Sarcos came back in the room with some coffee on a tray, next to some Venezuelan butter biscuits. “Have both of you been up all night?” she asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, ma’am,” said Jake.
“Well, if you would like somewhere to get some sleep, there is a couch in the other room,” replied Sister Sarcos.
“You go on in, Paddy. I’ll wait here and talk to the Sister,” said Jake.
Paddy went in and made himself comfortable. After a few minutes he could feel himself dozing off.
Back in the study, Jake sat and stared out the window to the view of the street. Various police cars passed through the town, including an army rover with several heavily armed soldiers inside.
“It’s a small island; they’ll be doing the rounds until they find you,” noted Sister Sarcos.
“I thought you said they wouldn’t find us,” said Jake.
Sister Sarcos paused and stared at Jake. “I can’t make you trust me. But I suggest that right now, you do,” said Sister Sarcos.
Before he could reply, Jake’s attention was drawn to a noise coming from the front doors of the church. He lifted his M14 and quickly proceeded into the main hall. It was clear that someone was trying to open the doors. There were several loud bangs and shouting coming from the other side of the door.
“It’s ok. It’s just Father Hernandez,” said Sister Sarcos. She rushed to the doors and opened the viewing hatch just to be sure. When she opened the door, in walked an old priest. He was small, tanned and completely bald.
Jake retreated to the corridor and peered around the corner as Sister Sarcos and Father Hernandez spoke in Spanish. She was clearly trying to explain what had happened. However, it seemed as though they were getting into a bit of an argument. “This isn’t good,” Jake thought to himself. Suddenly, the priest stormed in the direction of the study where Jake was. As he walked around the corner, he bumped into Jake, who towered over him.
“Hello, Father,” said Jake.
The priest just stared back at him. Then, “Hola,” the priest said, smiling nervously. There was a smell of booze off him.
“Has this man been drinking?” asked Jake.
“One of Father Hernandez’s vices, I am afraid,” said Sister Sarcos.
“It’s 7.30 in the morning, ma’am,” replied Jake.
Sister Sarcos led Father Hernandez to another room while Jake kept watch. The whole night had just been one nervous incident after another. Jake was looking forward to getting the hell off the island. As he sat looking out the window he began to rest his head against the wall. Not long after, he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.
Another loud bang on the door awoke Jake.
“Jesus, did I fall asleep?” Jake said aloud. He looked out the window to see a jeep parked outside. Moreover, he could hear sounds again from the front of the church. It sounded as though Sister Sarcos was once more answering the door.
“Yes. Can I help you?” asked Sister Sarcos.
“We’re here to see our friends, Sister,” said one of the men. She opened the door and in walked two Venezuelan gentlemen. Paddy had arisen by this stage and walked out into the main hall of the church.
“Paddy? Jake… I presume,” said one of the guys.
“That’s correct,” said Paddy.
“I am agent Jorge Gonzalez and this is agent Santiago Angel. We’ve been sent by Langley in response to your messa
ge,” said Jorge.
“Boy, are we glad to see you guys,” said Jake.
“Is there somewhere we can talk?” said Santiago.
The Sister directed the group into the back office where Santiago and Jorge briefed Paddy and Jake on how they intended to get them off the island.
“What about the Naval Special Warfare Development Group?” asked Jake.
“They are safe, as a matter of fact,” replied Santiago.
“How the hell did they manage that?” asked Paddy.
“Apparently, after they retreated to Arenitas and found no sign of you guys, they proceeded northeast. They made their way through enemy lines undetected to Juan Griego. This morning they commandeered a fishing trawler,” explained Agent Gonzalez.
“I’m surprised they weren’t pursued,” said Paddy.
“They were. However, when the Venezuelan patrol boarded them, they attacked the patrol boat and commandeered it. They then took that boat the rest of the way to international waters,” said Jorge.
“Those guys are incredible,” said Jake.
“So, Agent Gonzalez, Agent Angel. What’s the plan for us?” asked Paddy.
“Well, as you will appreciate, the island is on high alert since last night’s debacle. Chavez has sent in reserves to help with the search. He’s desperate for proof that this was an American-led operation. However, so far he’s got nothing. Our plan is to keep it that way.”
Unfortunately, an air extraction was completely off the cards. The Venezuelan air force was patrolling the skies and they were being assisted by patrols on the ground. Moreover, a sea extraction was completely impossible from the north. The only option was a sea extraction from the south.
“Mr. Trimble, this may not be like anything you’ve been used to,” warned Jorge.
“Jake, we know you are SEAL and you’ll be trained for what we are about to suggest next. Paddy, how are you with swimming?” asked Santiago. Given the situation and the level of surveillance, it was decided that an extraction by boat was impossible. Paddy wasn’t an excellent swimmer, but he wasn’t bad either. He used to teach dinghy sailing on the shores of Belfast Lough when he was growing up.
The Keepers of the Persian Gate Page 6