Sandfire

by Andrew Warren

  Caine saw dark shapes dropping towards him through the whirling sand. He looked left and right… He found himself surrounded by black uniformed soldiers. The men’s uniforms carried no insignia or markings, and each soldier carried an M4 carbine. Tactical PICO plate carriers with ammo pouches, and holstered MARSOC M45 Close Quarter Battle Pistols completed their equipment load .

  Delta Force operators, Caine thought. The U.S. Army’s most elite Special Forces soldiers.

  “Thomas Caine, I presume?” said an operator who rushed up beside him. The man’s M4 drew a bead on the wounded Rashid. “Let me introduce myself. Sergeant Jack Tyler, 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta. I hear you and two civilians need an air lift?”

  Catching his breath, Caine nodded. “Appreciate the assist, Sergeant. I have a wounded civilian up there.” He pointed up the rise of the dune he’d tumbled down. “She needs immediate evac.”

  “What about this one?” Tyler pointed to Rashid. The Saudi officer was still panting, gasping for breath.

  “We need to take him in. He can tell us exactly where Al Qaeda’s Regional Commander Ahmed Khaldun is hiding.”

  “And the location of the missing data stick?”

  Caine touched the data stick in his pocket, grateful he hadn’t lost it during the bloody battle. “Yeah. Khaldun has it. We find Khaldun, we find the data stick.”

  In a rapid, fluid motion, Rashid pulled a knife from a sheath hidden in his shirt sleeve. Before Caine and Tyler could move, he impaled the blade deep into his throat. Blood gushed like a fountain, and he fell forward. He was dead before his face struck the sand.

  Caine rolled the corpse over. The man’s eyes were wide open, and stared forward. His expression was blank and unreadable. He was the same in death as he had been in life… an empty shell, devoid of all emotion.

  “Well fuck!” exclaimed Tyler. “That’s not something you see every day!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  AL JAWF GOVERNORATE, YEMEN

  The Osprey Tiltrotor flew fast and low over the desert. Its airframe shook and rattled against the buffeting winds, as it pushed its velocity to maximum speed. They crossed into Yemeni airspace long before Saudi Arabian F-15 jet fighters could move to intercept. Caine guessed that a diplomatic incident could soon be on the table. He hoped the compromising data he carried in his pocket would change all that.

  His immediate concern was Kimberley. She lay panting on a stretcher. The knife wound Rashid had inflicted was deep. The medic had controlled the bleeding, then hooked her up to IV fluids, but that was all he could do. Sergeant Tyler was a universal donor, he was supplying his own blood to Kimberley. They were keeping her alive, but just barely.

  “How's she doing,” Caine asked, keeping his voice as low as he could in the loud aircraft’s interior.

  The medic glanced down at Kimberly from the corner of his eyes, making sure she wasn’t watching. Then he shook his head .

  Caine knew what that meant. Only surgery could save her now. That meant reaching Djibouti as soon as possible.

  “Tom?” She reached out and Caine grabbed her hand. She was using the shortened version of his name… like Rebecca did. Her grip was tight but her eyes were unfocused.

  “I’m here, Kimberley.”

  “How… how bad is it?”

  He had seen the wound. There was a good chance it had punctured a kidney or her liver. The gash itself was at least four inches long.

  “It’s not that bad. You’re going to be fine.”

  She turned her head, focused on Caine. “You sure? Because it bloody hurts.” She coughed, and fresh blood spattered her shirt. Her body contorted with pain.

  The medic stepped in, pushing Caine aside. The skin glue he had applied had come undone, and she was bleeding again.

  Caine stepped back. He leaned against the fuselage, and felt the rattling of the Tiltrotor jarring his sore bones. They sped on into the night. Safiya sat next to him, sobbing quietly. Caine knew why.

  “Thomas, I’m so sorry about Kimberley. I told her not to come down from the rock, but she insisted.”

  “She’s going to be fine,” Caine lied again. “Look, I know why you’re upset, Safiya. I haven’t forgotten my promise. As soon as we get the intel we need, I’ll personally lead the team to kill the bastard. We'll get your sons back.”

  Caine was angry with himself for dropping his guard long enough for Rashid to take his own life. The one link to the Bedouin children’s location, snatched away from him in an instant.

  He had already lied to Kimberley about her chances of survival. Now he was lying to Safiya about her chances of finding Mohammad and Hussein. As soon as Khaldun heard of Rashid’s demise, he would move his army of terrorists to a new location.

  Caine felt for the data stick in his pocket again. He hated lying to Rebecca, and these men, and he wondered if he should reveal that he had it on him. But to do so would be to give up on his promise to Safiya.

  The Bedouin mother leaned close, and whispered in his ear. “You have it don't you… this data stick that everyone wants?”

  He stared at her, confused. “How did you know?” he asked in equally hushed tones.

  “You keep touching it,” she whispered again. “I’ve seen you looking at it when you think no one is watching. Why haven’t you told anyone about it?”

  Caine grimaced. His wounds had been treated, yet his body still ached all over. But he was determined to remain combat ready. He’d even kitted up, with body armor, a tactical vest, and a MARSOC M45 Close Quarter Battle Pistol in a belt holster. If he needed an M4 carbine, all he had to do was ask and it would be provided to him. His mission here was far from complete.

  “Thomas?”

  He leaned closer to her. “Keep your voice down. You heard Rashid… Khaldun has your children. And if the CIA know I have the stick, they have no reason to hunt down Khaldun. He’s not that big in the scheme of global terrorism.”

  “Khaldun? But I already know where he is.”

  “You do?” Caine asked with surprise.

  She nodded.

  “Where?”

  “The mountains north of Al Abr. He leads the Al Qaeda group we have to pay for their ‘protection’ services.”

  “Could you find it on a map?”

  She nodded.

  Caine stared at her for a long few seconds while a plan formulated, one he knew could work. But there was one serious problem.

  “Kimberley?” He turned and grabbed the young Australian woman’s hand again.

  She barely noticed him. “Tom!” she said half delirious. “That name suits you. Better… better than Matthew… or even Thomas. ”

  “Kimberley, listen to me.”

  She smiled for him, looking like a drunk. “I’m listening Tom. We have to save… the children.”

  “We need to get you to a hospital first.”

  “No. No you don’t. We… we made a promise, remember?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “We both did… so you better keep it.”

  Her hand became limp, and slipped away.

  “Is she…?” Caine asked, afraid what the answer might be.

  The medic checked her pulse and breathing. Shook his head. “No, she’s with us, but she’s weak.”

  Kimberley had slipped into unconsciousness and that was not a good sign. Her only chance was trauma surgery at Camp Lemonnier, still a few hours away.

  Grabbing a map from Tyler, Caine instructed Safiya to show him exactly where the Al Qaeda hideout was. She was very precise with her directions so Caine felt confident the risk was worth taking. He quickly assessed it would be a forty-minute diversion from their original flight path.

  “It’s nightfall,” Caine said, finding a pair of night vision goggles and slipping them on over his head, ready to flip down when he needed them. “Sergeant, you drop me here,” —he pointed to a location several hundred feet from the supposed Al Qaeda camp— “then high tail it back to Djibouti.”

&nbs
p; “How will you get out again?” Tyler asked.

  “There are trucks in the camp. Safiya said Khaldun owns several. Plus, if I’m going to get the children out while I find that data stick, I’ll need something to drive them out in.”

  “You won’t get three dozen kids in one truck.”

  Caine shrugged, knowing that he didn’t have an answer for that one, but determined to go anyway.

  “I’ll come with you,” Safiya offered. The two men stared at her, silently questioning her sanity. “I am nothing without Mohammad and Hussein,” she replied. “My life will mean nothing if they die. If I must give my life to save them, then may Allah give me the strength to do so.”

  “Fine,” Caine responded, before he could change his mind. “We’ll get you body armor, comms, and a pistol. But you stay out of sight until I’m done.”

  “I think you mean ‘We’re done’,” Tyler said with a grin.

  “We?”

  “You think I'm gonna miss out on a chance to kill a bunch of terrorist assholes? I’d never live it down if I didn’t come.”

  Caine grinned back, pleased with how this was turning out. “Most appreciated Sergeant.”

  Tyler looked him in the eyes. “Don’t mention it. These guys are holding a bunch of kids hostage. And there’s some things a man just can’t abide. Know what I mean?”

  Caine nodded. “I do.”

  In hushed tones, he began to outline a rescue plan.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The Osprey Tiltrotor lowered its rear loading ramp, letting the buffeting winds sweep through the interior. While the gunner let loose a volley of tracer rounds with his M240 machine gun, Tyler, with Safiya strapped to his harness, rappelled to the ground. Caine followed close behind. They hit the rocky surface in less than five seconds, detached the ropes and sprinted for cover. It was dark, and Caine didn’t think they’d been spotted.

  No one's shooting at us, he thought.

  The Tiltrotor hovered above. The gunner fired again, and dropped a few grenades. The aircraft swooped over the area, repeating the process a couple more times at different locations. Gunfire streaked up from the shadowed rocks, pelting the side of the Tiltrotor. When the aircraft finally sustained damage, it lifted and flew east. The crew had done what had been asked of them. They had rattled the cage. The Taliban rats had emerged from their caves, furious and eager to retaliate.

  Caine and Tyler watched the carnage unfold through their night vision goggles. The Taliban had taken significant casualties from the Osprey’s assault .

  “Perfect distraction,” Tyler whispered.

  Caine nodded. “Hopefully they’ll be too busy searching for the Osprey to see us coming.”

  “You wait here,” Caine instructed Safiya. “If you see the trucks drive out with the children, meet us on the road down there.” He pointed towards the trail that led out of the rugged terrain. “If we’re not back in two hours, get as far away as you can. You know where to go?”

  She nodded. “There is a village nearby where I have family. My sister.”

  “Good, then we’ll be off.”

  “Good luck. And Thomas… Allah praise you for what you have done.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “This nightmare will all be over soon, Safiya, I promise.”

  Then he and Tyler turned, and disappeared into the shadows between the rocks.

  Tyler and Caine descended down the side of the mountain, taking quick, quiet steps. Their M4 assault rifles were fitted with silencers. Shooting would attract minimal attention. Failing that, their twelve-inch carbon steel-bladed tactical knives and .45 ACP semi-automatic pistols could do the job just as well.

  The first insurgents they encountered didn’t see them coming. They were too busy making shrill noises and waving their AK-47s in the air. Caine and Tyler paused and aimed with their rifles. Double tap shots silenced them quickly.

  As the men struck the ground, another Al Qaeda fighter caught a glimpse of them from the corner of his eye. He spun around, firing off a burst from his AK. His shots went wide and missed them completely. Tyler didn’t even stop moving as he put two bullets into the man’s chest, then another into his twitching corpse .

  No one else came to investigate. The other insurgents were too busy shooting into the skies, trying to take out the Tiltrotor that was long gone.

  “What does this Khaldun look like again?” Tyler asked. “Ugly, I bet.”

  “Very,” Caine replied softly over the mic. “Left side of his face is burned by an IED that went off too soon. He’s hard to miss.”

  “Roger that.”

  As they drew closer to the center of the base, they saw more insurgents darting through the shadows. But with the help of the night vision goggles, they were able to move silently through the darkness. No one saw Caine and Tyler coming. Their rifles barked quiet death as they made their way past the men. A dozen terrorists were silenced permanently, and without anyone noticing.

  Eventually they came upon the main section of the camp. The towering rocks were lit up by flickering camp fires. Men in thoobs and turbans proudly carried their AK-47s, and displayed their Janbiya knives in belt sheaths. Caine counted twenty-two. Tyler repeated the same count. The Taliban seemed to be regrouping now that they realized the Osprey was gone.

  “Two o’clock.” Caine whispered the direction. “Two ridged cattle trucks.”

  “I see them,” Tyler said, as his eyes locked on the pair of vehicles.

  “Two should be enough to drive out the kids.” Caine reloaded his rifle with a fresh magazine.

  “If we can find them.”

  “We’ll find them,” Caine said firmly. “But we need Khaldun first, for the data stick.”

  “That must be him.” Tyler pointed out an elderly man with horrific scars on his face, exactly as Caine had described. The man’s cheeks looked sunken and collapsed. He had lost muscle mass as well as skin. In profile, Khaldun resembled a desiccated corpse. He pointed and gestured wildly, and appeared to be arguing with a squad of his men .

  “Whew… definitely not his good side,” Tyler whispered. “Lot’s of targets between him and us. We’ll need to take them out first.”

  “Roger that.”

  Caine scanned the small valley in detail. There was a single road exiting the mountains, which would be how they would drive out. Caine also noticed water channels cutting through the rocks. They were designed to flow downhill, branching off into multiple paths. All but one of the junctions had stones in them to stop the flow of water. These channels no doubt led to villages lower down the mountains.

  That’s one way Khaldun’s Al Qaeda cell makes their money , Caine thought. They take bribes to release the water for the communities downstream.

  Caine traced the channel up the side of the hill, where it disappeared into the dark rocks. He knew many settlements in the Middle East had extensive water tunnels like these. They were constructed in mountains and deserts to control the flow of water from rain catchment areas into the more arid regions. These tunnels might be hundreds of years old. They could extend for hundreds of miles, and there would be no light down there.

  Caine and Tyler watched for a few minutes, guns aimed down at the insurgents. They waited for an opportunity.

  Eventually it came, but Caine didn’t like it. Khaldun concluded his heated discussion with his men, and disappeared inside the water tunnel.

  “You see that?” Caine asked.

  “Khaldun going to the mountain? Guess Mohammad isn’t coming to him.”

  “I’m going after him. You set up a series of explosive charges like we planned. When I return, blow them to cover our escape. And remember, I won’t be coming out alone.”

  “What makes you think the kids are in there?” Tyler hissed back.

  “I don’t see anywhere else they could be hidden. They have to be in there somewhere. ”

  Tyler glanced over at him. A bead of sweat ran down his face. “You sure about this? Going in there alone?�
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  Caine kept his eyes on the camp below. “I made a promise. I intend to keep it.”

  “Two pairs of eyes are better than one. Let me—”

  Caine shook his head. “I need you out here. Stick to the plan. Give me one hour. If I’m not out by then, find Safiya and get away from here.”

  “Roger that. And Caine… good hunting!”

  Caine sidestepped down the steep, rocky hill, then kept to the shadows as he approached the tunnel. No one guarded where the channel poured water from the mountain, so he walked straight into it. Ten feet in, the water rose up to his knees. He placed the data stick in a waterproof pouch provided to him on the Osprey, and sealed it for protection against water damage.

  The stream soon became waist high. It was cooler than he expected. The flow was fast, and he had to push against the current. As he moved forward, the tunnel narrowed. Soon it was barely wide enough for a man to pass through. The roof was low and he had to crouch. The cool water sloshed against his chest as he waded further into the darkness.

  A hundred feet. Two-hundred feet. Five-hundred. Soon he couldn’t get a radio signal. Eventually, even with the night vision goggles, he soon couldn’t see anything. There was no light to amplify. The world of illuminated green light he saw through the lenses faded into blackness.

  He felt his other senses come into play. The bubbling, flowing water grew louder. The air held a damp, fresh taste to it. The blood thundered in his temples and the hairs on his neck rose high. Every instinct he had screamed danger… Death awaited him at the end of this tunnel.

  Despite the tricks his mind was playing on him, Caine kept advancing. He estimated he had travelled over a mile. At one point, something long and slimly slipped past his legs. He assumed it was a snake, but he didn't stop advancing. Then the sensation was gone. Whatever it was, it disappeared into the dark water.

  He was starting to think entering the tunnel had been a mistake. But Khaldun had come the same way. The older man did not have much of a head start on Caine, and wasn’t nearly as fit. Caine knew he had to keep going; the old man had to be down here.