Return to Armageddon

by Gar Wilson

  Hot agony bolted through Encizo's left leg when a 7.62mm missile punched into his ankle, splintering bone. The Cuban rolled over the edge of the curb and slipped under the sedan. His leg felt as if it had been lanced by white-hot nails. Blood oozed from the wound in his side.

  He tried to ignore the pain and reached for the Walther PPK holstered under his left armpit. In the cramped confines under the sedan, he did not have enough space to draw the pistol.

  "Madre de Dios," Encizo growled through clenched teeth.

  The metallic rattle of enemy guns continued. Encizo was trapped — his two Phoenix Force partners were still inside the sedan, Rachel had been exposed to the rain of bullets, but there was nothing he could do. He was trapped, helpless.

  Gary Manning and Keio Ohara reacted to the ambush like the seasoned combat veterans they were. Ohara quickly climbed over the backrest and dropped into the back seat of the sedan. Keio was eager to get his hands on the collection of weapons stored there, and he also wanted to give the Canadian enough room to duck under the dashboard if the windshield began to give way under the onslaught of bullets.

  The weaponry in the back seat consisted of two Uzi submachine guns, a Galil assault rifle and a box of hand grenades. The Japanese seized the Galil and slid it over the backrest to Manning. The Canadian took the Israeli-made autorifle and snapped back the bolt to chamber a round.

  Manning waited until his partner armed himself with an Uzi. Ohara handed the Canadian two M-26 grenades.

  "You handle the guys in the cab," Manning instructed. "I'll take care of the newsstand."

  "Don't forget the men on the roof," Ohara said.

  "I won't. Ready?"

  Ohara nodded.

  "Now!"

  The pair moved in unison, throwing open the front and back doors on the passenger side of the sedan. Using the armor-plated doors for cover, the two warriors swung their weapons toward their targets and opened fire.

  Manning blasted the newsstand with a ruthless volley of Galil slugs. The tiny pasteboard structure offered little protection from the high-velocity 5.56mm rounds. Magazines and newspapers flew from the racks and the front of the stand burst apart.

  Two men stumbled onto the sidewalk. One lay motionless, blood gushing from a fatal wound. The other scrambled upright and turned his PPSh 41 machine gun on the sedan. Manning hit him in the chest with a 3-round burst of Galil death. The terrorist seemed to be yanked backward by invisible cables. Then he crashed to the ground.

  Ohara hosed the taxi cab with 9mm rounds. The windshield exploded. One of the gunmen inside the cab convulsed as bullets punched into his face and chest. The other terrorists ducked. There were still three left, two positioned at the side of the cab, a third inside the vehicle.

  The Japanese quickly pulled the pin from an M-26 blaster and tossed the grenade at the cab. He aimed low, sending the M-26 to the edge of the curb beside the enemy vehicle.

  One of the terrorists cried out in alarm and reached for the grenade, hoping to throw it back at the Phoenix Force defenders. He exposed himself to Ohara's field of fire. The Japanese nailed the guy with a burst of Uzi slugs. His corpse fell beside the grenade.

  The M-26 exploded. The blast flipped the taxi onto its roof. The two United Arab terrorists who were perched beside the vehicle were blasted to the pavement. Both were dead.

  The terrorist inside the cab had miraculously survived the grenade blast, although his right arm had been broken when the car flipped. He kicked open a door and crawled from the wreck. The terrorist pulled a 7.65mm Czech M1950 pistol from under his shirt and began to creep around the cab, trying to attack Ohara from a blind side.

  The Japanese warrior failed to notice the new threat, but Rafael Encizo saw the terrorist's feet as the man approached. Still hidden under the belly of the car, Encizo carefully poked his head out to make sure the boots belonged to an enemy.

  His suspicions confirmed, the Cuban wiggled out from under the sedan. Pain from his shattered ankle and cracked rib lanced through his body. He quickly yanked the Walther from leather and aimed from a prone stance.

  Encizo triggered the PPK twice. Two .380 rounds tore into the terrorist's belly. The Arab doubled up in agony, blood spilling from his ravaged intestines. The Cuban fired again, splitting his opponent's skull with two well-placed bullets.

  After wasting the two men stationed at the newsstand, Gary Manning directed his attention to the pair of terrorists on the rooftop across the street. Bullets ricocheted against the top of the sedan as the snipers continued to fire at the Phoenix Force defenders with a pair of AK-47 rifles.

  The Canadian crouched by the hood of the car and carefully aimed his Galil rifle at the terrorist gunmen. He waited until one of the Arabs, preparing to fire, raised head, shoulders and Kalashnikov. Manning squeezed the trigger.

  The terrorist screamed and dropped his Russian assault rifle. The AK-47 clattered on the sidewalk below. The Arab grabbed his bullet-shattered face in both hands and sprawled on his belly.

  The remaining terrorist glanced at the corpse of his partner. Aware that all his UAF comrades had been killed in the battle, he realized the mission was a failure. All that interested him was to escape with his life. He needed a distraction to buy a few precious seconds to flee.

  The man pulled the pin from a Soviet F-1 hand grenade and rose to throw the minibomb. Manning spotted him and fired the Galil. Three 5.56mm slugs struck the terrorist in the upper chest. He fell onto the roof, the F-l slipping from his fingers. Horrified, he stared at the grenade that rolled just beyond his reach.

  The Soviet blaster exploded. The tattered remains of the two terrorists were blown onto the street in a ghastly shower.

  Keio Ohara rushed to Encizo and knelt beside the wounded Cuban. He quickly examined the injured man. The Japanese ripped open Encizo's shirt and checked his partner's bullet-gouged rib cage. A glimpse of the splintered bone jutting from flesh at Encizo's ankle convinced Ohara not to touch it.

  "How bad is it?" Gary Manning asked as he joined his teammates.

  "We have to get him to a hospital," Ohara said.

  "Rachel," Encizo rasped. "What happened to Rachel?"

  "Take it easy," the Canadian said soothingly.

  "Where is she?" Encizo demanded.

  "I'm sorry, Rafael," Manning said. "Rachel's dead."

  18

  "How is he?" Yakov Katzenelenbogen asked when Gary Manning and Keio Ohara entered the office of the Mossad director.

  "The wound in Rafael's side isn't serious," the Japanese answered. "A broken rib, slight tissue damage, that's all."

  "His ankle is broken," Manning explained. "But the doctor said it isn't as bad as it looks. Thank God for that. It looked like his foot was about to fall off."

  "It's a compound fracture," Ohara added. "Not a clean break, but the doctor is confident it will knit properly. Rafael will be out of action for at least a month or two."

  "Considering the cross fire those terrorists hit you chaps with," McCarter remarked, "it was bloody lucky he wasn't chewed to pieces."

  "That's what happened to Rachel," Manning said grimly. "Rafael is taking her death pretty hard."

  "Too bad he won't be able to join us when we attack the Assassins' stronghold," Katz remarked.

  Gary Manning's usual poker face and Ohara's mask of perpetual calm vanished. They turned to Katz, eagerness displayed in their expressions.

  "Have you found where it is?" the Canadian asked.

  "Abdul Monsul was very cooperative," Katz said. "He awoke to find himself on a marble slab, surrounded by amazed Israelis. He was quite convinced that he had just returned from 'paradise' and that he should spill his guts to us."

  "Our charade worked," Manning commented.

  "It was quite successful," Major Nizam confirmed. "He told us everything he knew about Hassan and the Assassins."

  "Yakov's theory was dead on target," McCarter added. "From the description Monsul gave us, the current leader of the Assassins had modeled
himself after the original Hassan and he's using all the old tricks and a lot of new ones as well."

  "Monsul has a good eye for detail," Katz declared. "His memory hasn't been totally damaged despite all those drugs he's been taking over the years. We've actually got a rough blueprint of the headquarters building. A large section of the place was off limits to most of Hassan's followers, but we've still got a good idea of what to expect when we hit the Assassins' lair.''

  "Where are the bastards?" Manning asked.

  "In the Ish Al-Ghourab Mountains in the West Bank of Jordan," Katz answered.

  "Israeli spy planes have been flying recon missions over that area for years," the Mossad director explained.

  "What about the Assassins' lair?" Manning asked. "Do we have a fix on the site?"

  "The recon film files were processed through a computer for the most likely area for the headquarters based on Monsul's descriptions. Heat sensors indicate there's a large well-populated fortress located between the peaks of four mountains at the Ish Al-Ghourab Range."

  "Are you certain this isn't a covert Jordanian military base?" Ohara inquired.

  "That's what we've always assumed it was in the past," the director replied. "But we have good reason to suspect this is the terrorist headquarters."

  "We'd damn well better make sure before we launch an attack on the place," McCarter stated.

  "You're talking about crossing the border into Jordan?" the head of Mossad said. "That would be considered an invasion by Israel. I thought you people wanted to prevent a war in the Middle East, not start one."

  "Not to worry," Katz urged. "I've spoken with the prime minister and he's going to try to explain the situation to Jordan. He's probably on the hot line talking to Hussein at this very minute."

  "King Hussein?" the director said, staring at Yakov.

  "He can give us permission to cross the border," the colonel answered.

  "He won't," the Mossad chief stated. "Jordan has refused to recognize Israel — it recognizes the goddamn Palestine Liberation Organization as the legitimate representative of the Palestinian people. Hussein can hardly be called a friend of Israel."

  "He doesn't qualify as an enemy either," Major Nizam stated. "Jordan has one of the largest, best-trained and best-armed militaries in the Middle East, yet they haven't made an aggressive move against Israel for many years."

  "Hussein is a bit unpredictable," Katz added. "But he hasn't allowed any anti-Israeli terrorist camps to be set up in his country since 1970."

  The telephone on the director's desk rang. He picked up the receiver. The Mossad boss stiffened as he listened to the caller. At last he hung up.

  "I owe you an apology, Colonel Katz," the director declared. "You were right about a double agent in Mossad."

  "What happened?" Katz asked.

  "That was Lieutenant Colonel Zavarj," the Director explained. "He just killed Major Eytan."

  * * *

  Katzenelenbogen stared down at the corpse of Major Uri Eytan. The man had been shot twice in the chest. Both bullets had pierced the heart. Next to the corpse lay a dagger.

  Keio Ohara, who had accompanied Katz to Major Eytan's quarters, knelt beside the dead man and noticed that Eytan's sleeve was rolled up to the shoulder.

  "There's a star-shaped tattoo on his deltoid," the Japanese declared. "Identical to the others found on members of the Assassin cult."

  "Did you pull back his sleeve, Colonel Zavarj?" Katz inquired.

  The Shremuth Modiin officer sat on a sofa with a glass of brandy in his hands. An Eagle .357 pistol was on the coffee table in front of him. Zavarj took a long swallow of brandy before he spoke.

  "Yes, sir," he replied. "When I shot him in the chest he started to claw at his shoulder instead of the wound. I couldn't understand why until I checked and found that star."

  "Why were you here in Eytan's apartment?" Katz asked.

  "He invited me here," Zavarj explained. "The major said he wanted to talk to me about the assassination attempt. He and I were in charge of the prime minister's security at the hospital until that happened. We realized you suspected one of us was an enemy agent. Eytan claimed he had a way to prove we were innocent."

  Zavarj took another gulp of brandy. Katz removed a pack of Camels and offered one to the intel officer.

  "I've been trying to quit," Zavarj remarked, but he took a cigarette anyway.

  "Try again tomorrow," Yakov advised. "Finish your story."

  "Not much to tell," Zavarj said as he fired the cigarette. "1 came here. Eytan poured me a drink and suddenly pulled that knife. I had to shoot him."

  Katz glanced at the button-flap holster on Zavarj's hip. "You were lucky you managed to draw your gun in time, Colonel."

  "1 had the flap open," Zavarj stated. "You weren't the only person who was suspicious of Eytan, sir."

  19

  David McCarter wore a wolfish smile when he met Katz and Ohara at the office of the Mossad director. The Briton was dressed in a night-camouflage uniform with the pet Browning Hi-Power holstered under his left arm and the Ingram M-10 dangling from a shoulder strap. His belt was equipped with plenty of ammo pouches and an assortment of concussion and M-26 fragmentation grenades.

  McCarter was ready to go to war. War against international terrorism.

  "The prime minister called while you two were visiting Zavarj," McCarter explained. "He talked to Hussein. The king was a bit suspicious, but he checked with his prime minister — who is also the minister of defense in Jordan. The chap confirmed that they don't have any military stronghold in the Ish Al-Ghourab mountains."

  "Did they have any information about what is there?" Ohara inquired.

  "Yes," the Briton nodded. "The place is supposed to be a rather secluded mosque. Apparently the Jordanian minister of Islamic affairs had a file on it. The 'mosque' allegedly belongs to an obscure religious sect which is described as an offshoot of Ismailis Muslims."

  "I can see why that cover would make sense in Jordan," Katz remarked. "The country is almost ninety-five percent Sunni Moslem. They'd probably be quite pleased to have a different religious sect segregate itself to avoid confrontations between the two different faiths."

  "Well," McCarter continued. "The king said that he doesn't want war in the Middle East, and he's already forbidden terrorist camps from being set up in his country. So he also wants the Assassins put out of business."

  "The king obviously approved of our mission or you wouldn't be dressed for night combat," Ohara said.

  "Yeah, but he still seems a trifle suspicious," the Briton said. "After all, it wouldn't look very good to the rest of the Arab world if he gave Israel permission to fly into Jordan to attack a genuine mosque."

  "He wants more proof?" Katz asked.

  "Not really," McCarter said, grinning. "See, the king has given permission for a recon mission to get more evidence. We can fly only one helicopter across the border with no more than twelve men on board."

  "And that's why you're so pleased?" Katz asked. "You think we'll go in and raid the place anyway."

  "Why not?" the Briton replied. "We'll find the evidence to make the king happy and take care of the Assassins at the same time."

  Gary Manning approached from the end of the corridor beyond the office. He was also suited in combat black, with an Eagle .357 Magnum in a hip holster, a Galil rifle slung over his shoulder and a small black backpack strapped around the small of his back.

  "I see you guys have been talking to 'rough and ready' McCarter," the Canadian remarked. "What do you think of the mission, Katz?"

  "I'd feel better about it if Rafael was here," the colonel replied. "This job looks like it will be as tough as any we've had in the past and we're short one-fifth of our usual manpower."

  "The director has assured us we can have half a dozen Israeli commandos for the mission," Manning said.

  "Members of the Independent Paratrooper Detachment?" Katz inquired.

  "Yeah," the Canadian replied. "Speci
ally trained for this sort of mission."

  "The two Egyptians also want to come along," McCarter added.

  "Major Nizam and Captain Malik?" the Phoenix Force commander said. "I don't think they should."

  "They're trained commandos and antiterrorists," Manning said. "And they insist that the fate of their country is also at stake."

  "They've got a point there," Katz agreed.

  "Half a dozen Israeli soldiers, the two Egyptians and the four of us," Ohara mused. "That's twelve."

  "The desperate dozen," McCarter said.

  "An apt title," Katz said. "All right, meet with the rest of the volunteers and screen them as best you can. Make certain we don't have any crazy-brave lunatics in the crowd. We need professionals, not zealots who think it will be a lot of fun to kick the hell out of a nest of Arab terrorists."

  "Does that mean we can't take David with us?" the Canadian asked.

  "Leap up my ass," McCarter shot at Manning. The pair laughed.

  "You've all had more time than I to study the Israeli recon photos," Keio Ohara stated. "What would you guess the stronghold's security is like?"

  "It has the potential to be very good," Manning answered. "Mountains all around it. They probably chose the site because the peaks conceal their exact position. It offers some protection, as well, and a good site for sentries."

  "Do you think they have radar?" Ohara asked.

  "It doesn't really matter if they do or not. We can't land a chopper among those mountain peaks anyway," McCarter said.

  "We'll have to land a few miles from the range," Manning agreed, "and hoof it from there. Our main problems will be sentries, surveillance cameras and maybe a LSW system."

  "Forget about a Land Sonar Wave," Ohara commented. "It would be useless in the middle of so many mountain peaks and boulders."

  "What about heat sensors?" Katz asked. "They might not function well in the desert during the day, but at night the temperature drops dramatically. Human body heat could be detected then."