by Run
The convoy took the turn-off to Abbasabad, much to Ryder’s relief, and eventually, after a bumpy ride on a long, winding road, entered the village as full darkness descended. Ryder drove down a dimly lit main street before coming to a small central square surrounded by single-storey dwellings. Here he became concerned by the number of troops milling around, fuelling fears that a reception committee would be at the base. If a garrison compound was the convoy’s destination they would have to abandon the vehicle before reaching it; once inside they would be trapped.
The convoy passed through the square and approached what looked like a military compound enclosed with a high barbed-wire fence and double-gated entrance leading off from the road they were on. By this time Ryder was worried; any thought of abandoning the truck now, with the presence of so many troops along the roadside, had gone. Ahead he watched fearfully as headlamps of the leading truck swung left towards the compound entrance followed by the second then the third – anxiety levels doubled.
The fourth and fifth trucks in front began to slow. He decelerated, changed gear and glanced quickly at Kellar. “Hold on Bear; we take off at those gates,” then he yelled at the others in the rear to prepare for action.
Suddenly, the fourth truck increased speed, passed the entrance, followed by the fifth, and before Ryder could fully appreciate what had happened, they swept by too. Hope surged; could the trucks now be heading for the base?
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Kellar, amidst shouts of jubilation from the rear.
Ryder grinned, “Now for the big one.”
25
From the truck cabin, Ryder watched, steeling himself, as the rock surface slid open and the leading vehicle entered the mountain. Seconds later, he engaged gear and followed into a cavernous chamber, adrenaline pumping. The lead vehicle stopped at a checkpoint
After a tense wait, weapon primed and ready across his knee, Ryder’s turn eventually came.
Three security guards approached; one asked for the cargo manifest whilst the other two went to the rear.
Fuck! Searching the trucks. His heart sunk; there was no escape now if the others were found.
Fumbling in the open compartment in front of the steering wheel, Ryder pulled out a bundle of papers and handed them over, praying they were what the guard wanted.
The man looked at the sheets, nodded, kept one and handed the rest back. Relieved, Ryder eased his finger off the trigger of the machine pistol and let out a silent breath.
The two guards at the rear lowered the tailboard, clambered in and began to check the crates. Ryder, outwardly calm, smiled down at the guard beside the cabin; if the two in the back discovered the others he would blast away and to hell with the consequences.
Seconds passed. He heard crates noisily moved around and jemmied open; if those concealing the four were checked, all would be over; his finger tightened on the trigger. He listened, pulse racing, to the guards cursing, sniffing at the air and commenting on the pungent smell; agreeing it was foul before both decided they had seen enough. Clambering out, the two men thudded back down to the ground, replaced the tailboard, and made their way to the front. Ryder watched the two join the other. The one who had checked the manifest took one last look at him, before he turned away and headed for the front of the convoy. He glanced sideways at Kellar and grinned, hardly able to believe their luck. The leading truck began to move; he engaged gear and followed towards a tunnel entrance at the rear of the chamber.
Shortly the convoy emerged from the short tunnel into another well lit, cavernous space. Following the lead truck to the left, Ryder backed into a dock alongside the other vehicles. He cut the engine and watched as the crew of the truck alongside jumped down from the cabin and headed for a door in the wall adjacent to the dock. The remaining crew lingered in front of the first truck but, thankfully, soon dispersed.
Eventually he and Kellar clambered down from the cabin. Ryder made for the back whilst Kellar lifted the bonnet and busied himself with the engine. Technicians and armed security personnel were everywhere about the dock area, but paid no attention to the trucks. In the back the others remained concealed until Ryder entered. He and the others then emptied the larger crates and began to fill them again with weapons, ammunition vests and explosives in packs, including coils of the nylon rope, but kept knives concealed within uniforms.
“Go check the dock and chamber. See what kind of reception we can expect,” Ryder whispered to Shiron as he continued to load the four crates.
The Israeli slipped away.
Not long after, he returned with Kellar in tow. He whispered, “Looks as if storage is on this side; admin and personnel quarters on the other. Place full of soldiers… definite sense of urgency; everyone seems to be pumping… I saw two lifts, at the end of the dock. Staircases both sides went downwards only, confirming a multi-levelled complex. But wait for it: I saw nuclear warheads being hoisted below; looked like multiples to me.”
“Left the best till last then, I see.” The American grinned at Ryder; white teeth prominent in the dim light.
Shiron, looking intently at Kellar, said with a hint of sarcasm, “Nukes; I’m not surprised. The Iranians are not supposed to have that kind of capability according to you Americans and to most of the Western world.”
Kellar ignored the remark. “What could they put them on?”
“Shahab-4s,” snapped Shiron.
Suddenly, the rear canvas flap parted and a soldier peered in; everyone froze.
Hellmann, the closest, was the first to react, striking the startled man hard on the head with the butt of his rifle before dragging him swiftly over the tailboard and expertly breaking his neck. Ryder hurriedly searched the dead man’s pockets, removed wallet and a security card – might come in handy – and told Kellar to put the body in one of the empty crates. Once this was done they prepared to leave. Ryder hoped it would be some time before the truck crew and the guard would be missed. He hoped too, that Afari would pass for a young fresh-faced guard in her ill-fitting uniform with hair tied up under a slightly oversized cap.
Ryder decided they would take one of the lifts direct to the lowest level. Checking to make sure all was clear, he and Shiron lowered the tailboard onto the raised dock and boldly strode through the milling personnel to the back wall lined with timber boxes and machinery parts. Here they took two flatbed carriers, returning minutes later. Trying not to look suspicious, Ryder, running high on adrenaline, placed the four crates filled with gear onto the carriers, helped by the other five, and headed for the lifts at the far end of the dock.
Inside the large lift, Shiron slammed shut the lattice metal gates and Ryder hit the button for the lowest level – level three. With a jolt, the lift began to slowly descend.
At level two the lift stopped to reveal through the latticework a group of technicians and several security personnel. Ryder gripped the handle of his concealed knife and prepared to use it. The group entered, ignoring him and the others, shut the lattice gate and continued to talk animatedly amongst themselves. The chatter confirmed Shahab-4 missiles would soon be released carrying multiple nuclear warheads. Ryder glanced urgently at the others; although their expressions remained passive he guessed they were as equally shocked as himself.
The lift arrived at level three. The personnel hurried out and disappeared down the corridor. Ryder and the others followed, pushing the carriers along the wide, busy corridor and into another lined with numerous doors and screens; the whine of machinery much louder now. He scanned for CCTV cameras and was surprised to see none; that helped, knowing they couldn’t be tracked. Technicians criss-crossed the corridor but took little notice of the group manhandling the two carriers. At the end Ryder entered into yet another corridor, this time short and narrow. Here only two pairs of doors broke its grey concrete walls, one pair at the far end and the other halfway down on the right. The pair halfway was padlocked and the international symbol for explosives was displayed clearly on the metal surface. More explo
sives were needed; after sabotaging the dam power grid, Ryder had worried that what they had left would not be enough for the task intended. Without hesitation he instructed Afari and Fehed to remain outside whilst he, Kellar and the two Israelis broke into the magazine. Ryder picked the padlock, swung back the door and the four entered pushing a carrier. Fehed slid the padlock back into place and both he and Afari then tried to look as if they had a reason to be there inspecting the wheels of the remaining carrier.
The magazine was well stocked. Definitely go up with a bang, thought Ryder; an opportunity too good to pass. Cases of Semtex and detonators were quickly located amongst the stacks of weapons and ammunition. Hurriedly, several makeshift charges were put together with four placed in a crate on the carrier for later and the rest in strategic positions around the magazine; timers were set.
“No need to continue on, Frank,” said Kellar, back with the others at the carrier. “We should get outta here now. Once this pile blows the whole fucking mountain will likely go with it.”
For a few seconds no one spoke, the hum of the air conditioning filling the silence.
“If the silos remain intact they can still be used,” shot Shiron, looking pleadingly at Ryder. “We’re here now; let’s finish it.”
Kellar stared at Ryder, wiping sweat from his forehead, “What’s the point risking more?” Look at this stuff,” he swung his arm at the stacks of weapons, “when it blows, it’ll sure take the guts outta here.”
Ryder faced the American. He knew it was crazy not to get out; all his senses screamed to bolt, but something inside urged him to continue.
Shiron looked coldly at the American then at Ryder, “We’ll go alone if necessary.”
This was no time for a confrontation. What the fuck is wrong with the American; has he suddenly lost his courage? Ryder turned to him, “You want out, then go for it; we’re carrying on.” He was not going to even attempt to argue with Kellar. With this place about to go up in only a few hours he wanted to find the silos, place charges and get out as fast as possible. He turned away from the American and, pushing the carrier, made for the entrance.
“Wait!” shot Kellar, stepping in front of the carrier. “Okay, okay I’m with you, count me in. Sorry, Frank; wasn’t thinking straight. Better we all die together, huh,” he said, half grinning.
Ryder gave him an icy look, “Forget it, Sergeant.” He then told them to grab spare magazines for the AKs and stuff them into the crates. Once this was done they headed for the door.
* * *
Meanwhile, outside in the corridor, Fehed and Afari were doing their best to appear occupied in fixing the carrier wheels; she on her knees and he bent holding the front axle. Suddenly, the door at the end through which they had entered burst open and two armed personnel approached. Both stiffened.
The two men reached the carrier.
“What are you doing?” asked one.
“Wheel stuck – won’t turn,” Fehed replied, grimacing as he held up the front axial.
The Iranian looked at the wheel then at him suspiciously. He swung to Afari, lingering on her, “Why are you here in this part of the complex? The stores are back that way,” he pointed to the doors they had come through.
Fehed answered quickly in an authoritative voice, still holding up the axial, “We are new here; took the wrong corridor, as soon as we get this wheel fixed, we’ll be on our way.”
The two men stared at the crates. The less inquisitive one urged his companion to hurry or they would be late for the shift, but the other man ignored him and said, “IDs please, and open the crates,” not taking his eyes away from her.
Afari shot a telling glance at Fehed and reached into her pocket. Fehed knew instinctively what she had conveyed, let the carrier drop and he too went for his pocket.
At that moment the padlock on the doors rattled; both guards were immediately distracted.
In that split second Afari and Fehed drew knives and before the soldiers had a chance to react leapt and plunged the blades into their necks.
The two men fell choking to the floor clutching at throats, blood beginning to ooze between their fingers.
Fehed swiftly moved to the door, disengaged the padlock and let Ryder and the others out.
“Shit, what happened?” Ryder shot, taking in the chaotic scene, then, “Hurry, get them into the magazine.”
The bodies were quickly dragged in by the two Israelis as Fehed quickly explained.
Moments later Shiron and Hellmann returned.
“I was wrong, you know how to use a blade,” Ryder said to Afari.
She looked at him, defiance in her eyes, but said nothing.
Hurrying down the corridor towards the doors at the end, Ryder felt the adrenaline surge guessing they were close to the heart. Through those doors, he hoped, would be the silos. They were electronically operated, Ryder fished out the security card taken from the dead guard earlier, swiped it through the keypad and, to his relief, they parted.
Entering a huge, brightly lit cavern, he saw beyond rows of metal racking, sleek, white missiles on cradles surrounded by gangs of technicians labouring at benches. Mingling with the technicians were armed guards. At the far left-hand side of the cavern a tunnel entrance was clearly visible. To the right of this opening, flatbed transporters on tracks stood coupled to a small locomotive. Ryder hoped it was the tunnel leading to a firing chamber.
He led them past the racking and the cradled missiles shining under halogen lights, pushing the carriers boldly between the benches and machinery. No one paid much attention until just short of the tunnel entrance where they were challenged by a guard. Ryder put a hand inside his jacket and gripped the handle of his knife. If the man asked for IDs he’d have no choice but to kill him and hope for the best.
He moved closer to the guard as the others manoeuvred the carriers to just inside the tunnel entrance. The American and the two Israelis then joined Ryder, attempting to screen him from the rest of the cavern, knowing what he would have to do if the guard raised the alarm.
“Your purpose for entering the tunnel?” the man asked, resting his arm on the barrel of a machine pistol slung from his shoulder.
Ryder scrambled for an answer and blurted, “Equipment for the firing chamber.”
The guard looked at him suspiciously and then at the crates on the carriers. “Then those should be loaded onto a flatbed,” he said, pointing to the locomotive.
Ryder took a chance, “A launch is due soon; the equipment is needed now and cannot wait for the engine to be made ready.”
The guard looked at him again with more suspicion. “Show me ID.”
No choice now. Ryder reached inside his jacket, hand feeling for knife.
Suddenly, the cavern erupted with the deafening wail of sirens. The guard immediately diverted attention to the sound and moved quickly away shouting to take up emergency stations. Ryder threw a glance at the others; this was it, no going back now.
In the confusion, Ryder rushed into the tunnel with the others close behind. Hurriedly he, Kellar and the two Israelis broke open the crates as they ran whilst Fehed and Afari pushed the carriers. Removing weapons, ammunition vests and packs holding ropes and the charges, the carriers were abandoned and all raced down the tracks. It did not take the guard who had challenged them long to realise Ryder and those with him had vanished into the tunnel. Immediately he raised the alarm and gave chase.
Ryder ran alongside the tracks, keeping close to the curving tunnel wall. Up ahead, around a bend some thirty yards away, several armed guards suddenly came into view. He threw himself hard against the ribbed structure and opened up at the oncoming men, killing all in one prolonged burst before they realised what was happening. He turned to look back. Kellar, the Israelis, Fehed and Afari, AK-47s bucking violently, emptied magazine after magazine into an oncoming phalanx of soldiers. Ryder’s courage almost gave way to desperation at the sight of so many. The noise was deafening. He knew if the silos were not at the end of
the tunnel they were all dead, but if they were, time would be needed to lay and set the charges. Without hesitating, Ryder bellowed at Kellar, Hellmann and Fehed to fight a holding action whilst he, Shiron and Afari made for the end. Slamming in a fresh magazine he raced along the tracks, ignoring bullets ricocheting off the structure.
With Shiron and Afari closely trailing, he followed the bending tunnel for almost 100 yards, arriving at the entrance to a large rectangular chamber hewn out of solid rock – the firing chamber. Relief mixed with fear engulfed him as he saw a metal gantry framework supported on tracks, carrying twelve metal firing tubes in two banks of six. In front of the gantry for almost its entire length, were two massive sliding doors hung on the longer rock wall of the chamber now in an open position 30 feet or so above the floor. He could see a star-studded sky beneath a wide external overhanging rock formation. This overhang, probably the one he was prevented from seeing due to low cloud, obviously protected the opening from aerial view. The firing tubes were angled to allow the missiles to emerge from the mountain through the gap on a 35 degree trajectory westward. Ryder entered and hurriedly scanned the gantry and banks of grey tubes. Fortunately, no one else was about and it looked to him as if everything was prepared for a launch.
Wailing sirens and staccato gunfire filled the tunnel and the chamber. Ryder quickly removed ropes from packs and handed them to Shiron, telling him to make three scaling lines up to the opening. The Israeli hurriedly searched for something he could use for grappling hooks. Then, helped by Afari, Ryder removed charges from the packs and raced towards the tubes. Here, both frantically searched the framework before placing charges in relatively obvious positions and more well hidden in the latticework of the gantry supports. With a superhuman effort, he clambered to the top of the 40-foot-high gantry support and placed two more charges, lowered with rope, down inside the tubular void to rest on a bracing ledge just above the nose of the missile inside. These charges would be difficult to locate and retrieve without cutting through the steel casing. With timers set prior to climbing the gantry he let the ropes fall into the tubes.