Caine froze. His fist tightened around the phone, clenching it in a white knuckled grip. “What?”
“Do you want to speak to him?”
Caine terminated the call quickly, but he knew it was already too late. Their location was in the hands of the enemy, and that enemy was Martin Delbridge. The CIA Station Head was the man in collusion with Rashid. He was pretending to be Forster whenever they spoke.
Caine remembered the program Gabriella had shown him, Mustang Sally. Delbridge must have used it to mask his identity, in case Rashid cracked his communication encryptions. And Delbridge had faked his death in Sana’a to scare Caine into working alone. No wonder the van had snatched his body away so quickly…
Anger welled up inside Caine, but he bit it down. He knew he had to remain cool and calm. Survival was their first priority. They had to escape this desert. Then he could go after Martin Delbridge, and take him down.
“Why did you hang up?” Safiya asked.
Kimberly looked into his smoldering green eyes. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
“We’ve been set up,” Caine answered. “Either that drone is going to come back and finish us off, or Rashid and his men are.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
A look of panic flashed across both women's faces.
“They have to find us first,” Caine responded calmly. “It’s been about four hours since Rashid’s men left us. Let’s assume it will take them that long to find us again.”
Caine dialed a second number into the phone. The secure line required him to code in with an eight digit alpha-numeric password. There was a brief click after his identity was confirmed.
Rebecca Freeling picked up even faster than Gabriella had.
“Tom?” she answered hesitantly.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I can hear that. Where the hell are you?”
He gave her their GPS coordinates.
“That’s in the middle of the Arabian desert.”
“Yeah. No time to explain. How quickly can you get an evac team to this position? There’s three of us, including me.”
“Wait a second.” He could hear her tapping away at a keyboard. “I can get an Osprey Tiltrotor with long range fuel tanks out of Camp Lemonnier, Djibouti. They can reach you in about four hours, and there’s a Delta Force team onboard. ”
“That’s cutting it close.”
“What do you mean?” He could hear the concern in her voice. “Close to what?”
“The Saudi Army is coming for us. ETA four hours. That's assuming a drone doesn’t pick us up first.”
More keyboard tapping. “We have another problem, Tom. Something you’ve overlooked.” Her voice sounded scared, even frantic. Caine didn’t like the sound of it.
“More good news,” he muttered. “What is it now?”
“You’re in Saudi airspace. I can’t send a military team in there, not without provoking a major diplomatic incident.”
Caine gritted his teeth. He couldn’t believe they were about to be abandoned because of a legal technicality.
“Tom, can you get to Yemen?”
“No chance. We have no transport.”
The line became silent, although he could still hear her breathing.
“Tom?”
He sensed she wanted to tell him something. Something important. He thought about the picture in the locket, Emily and Jarod. The longing in their eyes. The emptiness he felt…
“Rebecca? I…” His voice trailed off.
He remembered the last time he had seen her… the hotel in Australia. And before that, the briefing in the airport. Her beaming smile, as she revealed her intel on the operation Emily and Jarod were part of.
A joint operation, with the Saudis…
“Wait a second,” he said, remembering what he had learned about the U.S.-Saudi operation so far. “Try the code SANDFIRE with the Saudis. The CIA transport route you told me about. They’re in on it, so they should authorize the flight, so long as you tell them it’s transporting goods.”
“Okay, hold on. This might take me a few minutes.”
“Thanks Rebecca. Awaiting your instructions. ”
Mentally he kicked himself. She had been able to tell him how she really felt about him, but the moment had been lost. He found himself wanting her to tell him, rather than leave their relationship in a state of limbo all the time. He looked at Kimberley looking back at him, sadness in her stare. She had guessed from his expression this was the women who had captured Caine’s heart. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
Eight minutes passed before Rebecca spoke again. “My superiors want to know if you have the data stick, with the compromising information on it?”
Caine gritted his teeth. He thought about his promise to Safiya.
“No,” he lied, “but I know where it is.”
“Tom, I need to know now. Where is it?”
Caine knew he was gambling with his own life and the lives of the two women with him. Not to mention the lives of several dozen children. He needed the data stick to leverage the children’s rescue.
“Okay Rebecca, I’ve got the coordinates. They are—,” he began. Then he removed the battery from the phone, killing the call in a brief blip of static.
He looked up at the two women. Safiya and Kimberley were staring at him in disbelief.
“Trust me,” he said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Are we being rescued?” Kimberley asked.
“Are you still going to save my sons?” Safiya added.
“Yes, to both your questions. But it’s complicated. In four hours, we’ll either be tackling U.S. drones, the Saudi Army, or both. A covert extraction team is on its way to rescue us. We need to be prepared. We have to survive until then.”
Kimberly glared at him as if he was crazy. “I like your optimism, but how do you propose we do that?"
Caine began to formulate a plan in his mind. Against the drone they had no chance. But he was betting it would be Rashid and his men who returned. The Colonel would want to ensure Caine wasn’t lying about the data stick. After all the trouble it had caused, Rashid would want to see it with his own eyes, before he destroyed it once and for all.
The only chance they had against three heavily armed Humvees was to lay in ambush, and hope to take one by force. It wasn’t good odds, but it was better than no odds.
He explained the plan and then they got to work.
Caine stripped from his Bedouin clothes. Soon, he was dressed only in his white cotton shirt, khaki cargo pants and desert boots. The two women used his discarded clothes to make a dummy in the shape of a man, lying supine in the desert sands. They stuffed the empty clothes with rocks and sand to give them a human shape.
Next, they dug a hole for Caine to hide in, where he would be armed with the Browning Hi-Power. He cleaned the pistol as best he could, despite the lack of oil or other lubricants to do the job. The arid conditions had worked in the gun’s favor, and it seemed to operate fine. He tested it by firing a single bullet into a dune.
Kimberley, meanwhile, removed her Abaya. Underneath she wore a tank top and loose cotton pants. Caine realized this was the first time he had seen her without the fabric covering her body. She was tall and slim, and very attractive. Her fair skin would burn quickly in the hot sun, but that was the least of their problems.
When their preparations were complete, they drank the last of their water. Then Safiya and Kimberley buried Caine under the Abaya. They left an opening in the sand, just wide enough for him to peer out towards the dummy on the rocks.
He watched them climb up onto the rocky outcrop until they reached the top. They hid inside the crevasse. They had tested for ideal positions earlier, and were ready with their distraction.
While he waited, Caine again checked the Browning Hi-Power pistol. He had twelve rounds of the 9×19mm Parabellum bullets left in the thirteen round magazine.
He was up against twelve highly train
ed and battle hardened soldiers of the Saudi Army. He knew had to make every shot count.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rashid and his three Humvees showed up an hour before sunset, churning sand as they plowed through the dunes. They didn’t bother with stealth. They had superior numbers and firepower, and they knew it.
Silent and still, Caine watched from his foxhole. Three soldiers climbed out of the first Humvee. Within seconds, they peppered the fake corpse on the rocks with a barrage of gunfire from their assault rifles.
That was Kimberley and Safiya’s signal. Hidden in the crevasse, they smashed rocks against the shear wall opposite them.
CRACK! CRACK!
Once again, the strange acoustics of the crevasse amplified the noise, make the crashing rocks sound like rifle shots. The cacophony was enough to distract the soldiers. The startled men spun around, and opened fire on the rock walls.
As the men turned their backs on him, Caine took aim with the Browning. He lined up the closest soldier and shot him in the back of the head, just as the man finished reloading his weapon.
Flinging away his sand covered hideout, he sprinted to the fallen corpse. In a single fluid motion, he lifted the man’s rifle, pulled back on the charging handle, and squeezed the progressive trigger. A full automatic burst sprayed from the rifle, striking the two other soldiers from the Humvee.
Within seconds, Caine grabbed a spare magazine from the downed men, and ran to the Humvee. So far, no one inside the vehicle had seen him. Thanks to the women’s distraction, the soldier in the turret was busy firing at the rock outcropping. Caine ejected the translucent empty magazine, and reloaded his rifle. Then he threw open the back door of the truck.
Caine fired again, tearing open the meat on the gunner’s legs. He adjusted his aim, and a stream of bullets punctured the driver’s head and throat multiple times.
Caine dropped the rifle and pulled his pistol from his waistband. He leapt inside the vehicle and shot the howling gunner in the chest, before the man could climb back into the Humvee.
Less than thirty seconds had elapsed… enough time for the remaining soldiers to notice his ambush. Caine pushed the driver’s corpse out the door, then slid behind the wheel.
Two ground soldiers opened fire on Caine’s position, their Steyrs in full automatic mode. Gunfire peppered his Humvee’s windshield with cracks and holes until it shattered. Caine ducked low and floored the accelerator. The massive vehicle charged forward, roaring towards his attackers. Seconds later, two thumps beneath the Humvee told him his assailants had been taken out.
Seven down. Five to go.
Caine sat up, and assessed his situation. The two remaining Humvees were in sight, about three-hundred yards distant. They were parked at the base of a sand dune, below him now. Much to Caine’s dismay, one was armed with a belt feed grenade launcher. The heavy weapon roared, spitting a barrage of 40mm high explosive grenades in his direction.
Caine slammed down on the gas pedal and turned, but he couldn’t accelerate fast enough. Grenades exploded around him, shattering the remaining glass and cutting him multiple times. Sand filled the air, forcing him to cough and gag.
He didn’t see the grenade that hit. But he felt its explosive impact shake the vehicle.
A geyser of sand erupted beneath him. The Humvee flipped over and launched into the air. Caine barely managed to slip his arm into the seatbelt. The thin fabric strap was all he had to stop himself from being thrown around the cabin, or flung from the vehicle.
The Humvee collided with the sand. A jarring thud reverberated through Caine’s body. Every bone in his body felt as if it had been flexed to the breaking point, and he groaned with staggering pain.
But it wasn’t over yet.
Now he was spinning, tumbling over and over in circles. He realized his vehicle was rolling down the side of a dune.
He could do nothing, so he hung on for his life. He tried to count how many times he turned, but he could never tell which way was up. Sand filled the cabin getting in his mouth, nostrils and eyes. The noise of grinding metal assaulted his ears. The shocks to his body felt like a pummeling from multiple opponents.
Finally, the rolling slowed. The battered vehicle’s chassis tilted, then stopped all together.
Caine opened his eyes. He spat out a mouthful of sand, and cursed the pain wracking every part of his anatomy. He realized he was alive, and to his immense surprise only superficially injured.
He was also upright, facing one of the other vehicles. The heavy truck’s side was turned towards him.
It was the Humvee with the grenade launcher, and it was too close to fire on him. At this range, the explosive projectiles would take out both vehicles.
To Caine’s surprise, Sulieman Rashid stared back at him from the passenger window. His expression was blank, probably wondering how Caine had survived.
Caine didn’t think or hesitate. He fired the ignition and floored the accelerator. The engine roared to life. His vehicle lurched forward, ramming into the passenger side of Rashid's Humvee.
The impact catapulted Caine forward. The seatbelt wrapped around his left arm stopped him from hurtling through the shattered windscreen.
The second Humvee fared much worse from the collision. The impact knocked it on its side, leaving the undercarriage facing towards Caine.
Stumbling, disoriented and wracked with pain, Caine pushed through the hurt. Blood dribbled down the side of his head. He gritted his teeth as he pulled a long shard of glass out of his left shoulder. Then he grabbed another Steyr assault rifle from the passenger seat.
When he stepped onto the sand he almost fell. His head spun and his eyes couldn’t focus. His left knee felt like it had been taken to with a hammer. Putting weight on it was manageable, but agonizing.
Steyr out in front, he advanced around the rolled Humvee. He used the battered truck as cover from the last Humvee, which was now accelerating towards him.
Caine heard movement, scurrying from the overturned truck. He spun around, just as a soldier climbed from the side of the overturned vehicle.
Caine fired a single shot, and put a bullet in his heart.
The final Humvee was almost upon him. It kicked up a cloud of sand as it raced towards his position, its engine snarling like a hungry tiger.
Ducking back behind the rolled truck, Caine lifted his Steyr rifle. He stared down the back circle in the scope until he lined up the driver. He squeezed down on the trigger, nearly emptying the magazine.
The opposing vehicle’s windshield shattered, and the Humvee turned in a wide circle. He heard the brakes squeal, as the truck struggled to control its frantic skid. Caine lined up the driver again and fired. His bullets found their mark, killing the man instantly .
Dropping the empty rifle, Caine drew his Browning pistol. He limped to a better position to observe the last Humvee.
The gunner was trying to unjam the mounted .50 caliber belt-fed machine gun.
Caine aimed his pistol and put a bullet into the man’s mouth. The projectile must have ricocheted off the back of the soldier’s helmet… the soldier’s face exploded outwards in a shower of wet meat.
Eleven dead. That only left Rashid to deal with.
Caine picked up another discarded Steyr, along with an ammo vest holding multiple magazines. He set off, looking for the Colonel. The military intelligence officer was nowhere to be seen. A few yards away, Caine found footsteps in the sand leading up the side of a dune.
He tried jogging but his knee hurt too much. He limped instead, putting most of his weight on his right leg as he advanced up the hillside.
When he crossed the top, he saw no sign of Rashid. Kimberley lay sprawled in the sand, crying in pain. A wet patch of red spread from her abdomen.
Safiya kneeled over her, pressing her hand against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. She looked up when she saw Caine. Her eyes grew wide in fear as she called out. “Thomas! Behind you.”
Caine didn’t have
time to turn. He felt a powerful force ram into the back of his head. He stumbled, dropped the Steyr and spun around. Rashid rushed him again, fists swinging. The bigger man punched him in the face.
Caine stumbled again and teetered backwards. He realized he was about to tumble weaponless down the side of a dune. His arm shot out, grabbed Rashid by the shirt, and yanked him forward.
They both fell, rolling a hundred feet down the side of the dune.
When they slammed into the bottom, Caine staggered to his feet. He shuffled forward, feeling drunk from the battering he had taken.
Rashid came at him. His powerful fists jabbed at Caine’s gut, chest and arms. The man’s bulging arms were like rods of steel. Caine could barely hold himself upright, as the Colonel’s onslaught battered him backwards.
Then something switched inside Caine. He pushed through the pain and disorientation. He let instinct and muscle memory guide him. Rashid’s unnaturally powerful jabs shot towards him again. This time, Caine was ready with blocks and deflections. Rashid continued his unrelenting rain of blows. The beast of a man outweighed Caine by fifty pounds or more of pure muscle. He was like an accelerating freight train, battering a car stranded on the tracks. He had no fear, and nothing held him back.
Caine blocked again and again, but he still took a beating. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he realized he was losing. He was up against a foe of superior skill and strength. How much longer could he last? A minute? Two at the most?
Suddenly, both men were engulfed by a deafening roar. Sand lifted and spun around them in swirling gusts. Rashid’s head jerked up in surprise as the Osprey Tiltrotor descended towards them. Caine avoided the temptation to follow his gaze.
This is my chance, he thought.
He took advantage of the opening in Rashid’s guard. He ran at his foe, swinging his right fist out in a powerful jab of his own. His knuckles rammed into Rashid’s throat.
The Colonel didn’t see it coming. He staggered backwards, gasping for breath and clutching his crushed windpipe. Rashid fell to his knees. A hoarse groan wheezed from his gaping mouth.
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