The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers)

by J. Robert Kennedy

  The helicopter touched down with a bounce, and one of the flight crew pulled open the side door. Dawson jumped out, sprinting toward the central tent, the footfalls behind him telling him his men were in hot pursuit, the sound spreading out to the sides indicating the perimeter positions being taken. He reached the central tent, Spock right behind him, the younger Stucco at his side, probably having to hold back a little to not show up his comrades.

  Using hand signals, Dawson outlined the plan, then flipped down his night vision goggles, pushing through the outer flap then the inner, his head scanning the room, coming to rest on a body lying on a cot. Dawson advanced, aiming his weapon at the armed man’s chest as Spock and Stucco cleared the rest of the tent, then joined Dawson.

  Dawson flicked his night vision goggles up and turned on a flashlight, shining it at the man’s face. Stucco kicked the bottom of the cot and the man stirred, pushing himself up on his elbows, squinting at the flashlight.

  “Bloody hell, can’t a man get a good night’s sleep without being disturbed.”

  Dawson chuckled, recognizing that style bravado anywhere.

  “I’m Sergeant White, United States Military. And you are?”

  “Colonel Cameron Leather, Retired, Special Air Services, and if you’re name’s White, I’ll wear a Liverpool jersey all next season.”

  Dawson chuckled, lowering his weapon and extending a hand. Leather took it, pulling himself to his feet, wincing.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Ricochet off the body armor. Probably bruised a rib or two. I’ll live.”

  “What happened here?”

  “Mate, it was pretty crazy shit, as you might say.”

  Dawson then was given the rundown on a group of imposters ordering an evacuation, then a second group of terrorists, also imposters, who arrived and engaged everybody. The first group and the professors had fought side by side for a reason Leather didn’t know as he and his men had bugged out to set up sniper positions to try and save their charges.

  The students had apparently left earlier and were hopefully safe in Cairo by now, or soon to be, the professors and their guests, along with one of Leather’s men and a reporter, were presumably safe having escaped in a commandeered jeep brought back by two students.

  And everyone else, attackers and allies, were dead.

  They exited the tent, and Red approached, nodding to Leather.

  “BD, we’ve taken photos of all the bodies, at least those with heads.”

  “Sorry about that,” interjected Leather.

  “It looks like they’re all in Egyptian military uniforms, but no consistent patching. I’m guessing they were all in disguise. From the positioning of the bodies, it looks like two different groups of imposters engaged each other. We also found two Caucasians on the ridge behind us.” Red looked at Leather. “I’m guessing they’re yours?”

  Leather nodded.

  “Sorry about that.”

  Leather shook his head. “They died doing what they loved.”

  “So no sign of our students or professors?” asked Dawson.

  “Negative, it looks like they all got away.”

  Dawson pursed his lips.

  Thank God. Now where the hell are they?

  He turned to Leather.

  “Any idea where they might be?”

  Leather pointed to the ridge where the jeep had been hidden.

  “I suggest we pick up their trail over there. We can follow their tracks on foot, the chopper can go on ahead and hopefully spot them.”

  Dawson nodded.

  “It’s as good a plan as any.”

  He pointed at the trucks. “See if one of these is working.”

  Leather pointed at the trucks near the front of the camp. “Don’t bother with those, we took them out. This one back here,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “might still be functioning. Needs a tire change though.”

  Dawson jerked his head toward it and Red motioned to Niner to join him. Moments later the engine roared to life, Red giving the thumbs up Niner began to change the tire. Dawson stuck his head inside the cabin.

  “Red, you take Colonel Leather and your squad, follow the trail as best you can. My squad will take the chopper and scout out ahead to see if we can spot them. It’s been a couple of hours, so they could be anywhere by now, but I’m guessing they’ll try to stick to the roads so maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “Roger that, BD. Good hunting.”

  Dawson jumped down from the running board and signaled the chopper to power up as the team split into two squads.

  So far this mission was turning out far simpler than he was used to with this group.

  And he’d be perfectly content if he got through the night without firing a single shot.

  Nubian Desert, Egypt, Ten miles from the University College London Dig Site

  Everyone was huddled around the front of the jeep, the headlights providing valuable psychological relief from the reality of their situation. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere, not certain where they were, and Laura’s satellite phone had been crushed in her pocket during the attack.

  The jeep had a jerry can of water, and rationing had already begun. Acton knew that Greg would be doing everything he could from the university to find them, Laura’s bosses would be doing the same. Reading’s friend Rahim was apparently on his way, and once the students arrived at the UK Embassy, they would be taking action as well.

  But it could be days before they’d be found.

  Acton and Reading had already decided they’d walk back to the camp at first light and see what was going on. Hopefully their attackers would have left already, and they might be able to salvage a vehicle. Even if they couldn’t, those searching for them would start at the camp, so being there was the most logical choice.

  But that would have to wait until morning, and would be several hard hours of walking.

  Right now he was more concerned with Chaney. He was still on his cot, wrapped in the sleeping bag, but the bleeding still hadn’t stopped. It had at least slowed, but he was drifting in and out of consciousness.

  And there was nothing they could do about it.

  They had no supplies, and Chaney was the only one amongst them with anything beyond basic first aid training. In the morning they had agreed they would try and remove the bullet if they could retrieve supplies from the camp, but right now, in the dark, with nothing but fading headlamps and precious little water, they were hopeless.

  Chaney stirred, and Acton saw Reading squeeze the man’s hand, the two having been partners at Scotland Yard for years. Acton felt for him. It must be like losing a son. Chaney was many years Reading’s junior, and Reading had been mentor to the young man for most of his career. The bond formed would be tight, like family, like soldiers, and losing someone like this, while on vacation, a thousand miles away from civilization, was senseless.

  “Jim, he wants to talk to you.”

  Acton looked over, his eyebrows rising a little. He patted Laura on her shoulder as he rounded the jeep and sat down beside Chaney.

  “What is it, my friend?”

  “I have something I need to tell you,” gasped Chaney, the act of talking apparently excruciating.

  “It can wait. Help will be here soon. Save your strength.”

  Chaney shook his head.

  “No, it’s the reason I’m here. The Triarii—” He coughed, blood sputtering from his mouth. Acton wiped it away, exchanging a concerned glance with Reading.

  Chaney sucked in several rather loud breaths, then grabbed Acton by the shoulder, pulling him down.

  “They have one last favor to ask of you.”

  Acton wanted to tell Chaney to tell the Triarii to go to hell, but there was no time for that. His friend was dying, of that there was no doubt, and the mere act of delivering this message was killing him quicker. Better to have the message delivered without interruption, so the poor man could rest.

  “What is it?”

&nbs
p; “You must see the—” Chaney winced then dropped back into the cot, still. Acton checked Chaney’s pulse, then felt his chest, and sighed, looking at Reading.

  “He’s just passed out. Probably for the best.”

  Reading was about to say something when Acton held up his finger. He thought he had heard something, but couldn’t be sure. Laughter from Terrence and Jenny filled the air.

  “Quiet!” he shouted, cutting off all conversation.

  He cocked an ear, and soon they were all listening. It was faint at first, but after a few seconds, the sound became unmistakable.

  “It’s a helicopter!” exclaimed Terrence, immediately wincing and grabbing his ribs.

  “If anybody’s got a flashlight, start shining it up!” ordered Acton, who jumped into the driver’s seat and turned on the flashers and began turning the headlights on and off.

  Leather’s man, Jeffrey, held up a flashlight, waving it at the night sky as the pounding of the blades became louder, then suddenly roared over the area as the chopper came over a nearby ridge, their jeep in an ancient river bed. A searchlight raced across the desert floor and came to rest on them as they all waved, tears of joy and relief flowing as the chopper came to rest several hundred feet away.

  Acton climbed from the jeep, walking toward the chopper with Jeffrey, Laura and Reading, as half a dozen men jumped out, running toward them. Acton didn’t care who they were, he just assumed that if they were in a chopper, they were friendlies.

  Otherwise they were all about to die.

  “Professor Palmer? Professor Acton?”

  The voice sounded familiar, and as the two groups met Acton smiled in relief.

  “Sergeant, thank God it’s you!” he exclaimed as the Delta Force leader extended a hand.

  “Professor. Care for a lift?”

  Acton laughed, then became immediately serious.

  “We’ve got an injured man here. He needs immediate medical care.”

  Dawson motioned to two of his men who rushed by them, then activated his comm.

  “Prep for immediate medical evac. Find the nearest safe harbor, over.”

  The rotors, which had begun to power down, immediately roared back to life as Chaney was carried toward the chopper under the care of two of the Delta Force team.

  “Everybody on the chopper!” ordered Dawson.

  Acton turned to make sure no one was left behind, doing a mental tally, when he noticed the Colonel was missing.

  “Where’s Soliman?” he asked, looking around.

  “I don’t know,” said Laura, stopping beside him. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “Well, hopefully his people find him soon.”

  Acton took one last look, then jumped into the chopper, the door slamming shut behind him as it lifted off.

  He put his arm around Laura who laid her head on his shoulder, and within minutes they were both asleep, the exhaustion of the past couple of days finally overcoming them.

  Ahmed Ragheb Street, Garden City, Cairo, Egypt

  One block from the British Embassy

  Stephen poked his head out from the alleyway, the massive city still dark and mostly asleep, the only life at this hour seeming to be police and city workers. They had arrived in the city without incident over an hour ago, but at the first sign of a police checkpoint, Stephen had jerked the wheel to the right and down an alleyway, the other vehicle following. After driving for several minutes, taking random turns, but still following the GPS on his phone held by Naomi, he had stopped in an alley and shutoff the engine.

  “Why did you do that?” demanded Naomi. “They were police!”

  “Remember what the professors said? Trust the army, not the police.”

  Naomi huffed, but said nothing as Stephen climbed out and was joined by the others.

  “What happened?” asked Joel. “Why are we stopping?”

  Stephen held out his iPhone, showing their location on a map.

  “We’re about a block from the embassy. It should be just around that corner,” he explained, pointing to the end of the alley. “I suggest we check it out first, and make sure it’s safe to approach.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

  “What are you, daft?” erupted Naomi. “It’s a Western embassy in a Muslim country! There could be protestors in front for all we know!”

  Stephen held out a hand to calm her down, but secretly appreciated her backing. “I’ll check it out,” he said, “you all stay here.”

  He had jogged as quietly as he could to the end of the alley and peered around the corner. Nothing. Not a soul in sight. The bright lights of the gate of the embassy were tantalizingly close, and he was about to signal to the others to join him when a police vehicle turned into the alleyway from the opposite end, and turned on its lights.

  “Run!” he yelled, his friends at first frozen in place, then Naomi grabbed two of them and pushed, rushing after them. Screams broke out as the vehicle rushed toward them, then screeched to a halt, the alleyway blocked by the two vehicles Stephen and his friends had just arrived in.

  Stephen watched in horror as four men jumped out, weapons at the ready. Naomi reached him first and he pointed toward the gate.

  “Go!” he yelled, and she didn’t hesitate, instead sprinting toward the gate, the rest of the students following. Gunfire erupted from the alleyway and Stephen ducked around the side as the slowest of them rounded the corner. They were now in the street, racing across it, a rag tag group of crying and screaming young adults, their yells incoherent to anyone. The guards on the other side of the gates raised their weapons, ordering them to halt, but no one heard.

  They slammed into the bars, shaking them, pleads of “Let us in!” and “We’re British!” falling on deaf ears as the police raced around the corner, their weapons in full view.

  Stephen hit the gate, his passport extended and pushed it into view of one of the guards.

  “We’re British subjects who were victims of a terrorist attack. We require sanctuary!” he said in his calmest voice. The man activated his radio and a moment later the gate rolled open, the students rushing forward, the footfalls of the approaching police echoing through the empty streets.

  Stephen pushed his friends through, waiting until the last one had made it before he himself stepped through and onto British soil. He felt a hand grab him from behind and begin to yank him back onto the street.

  The sounds of weapons around him, their safeties being flicked off, filled the air as the world closed in around him. He stretched his arms out, grabbing onto the gate on either side as someone continued to drag him back to Egyptian soil.

  “Halt!” yelled a voice. “This is British soil, and we are within our rights to engage you!”

  The grip loosened, and Stephen yanked himself away as another set of hands pulled on his shirt, toppling him into the embassy grounds as the gates rumbled closed. He flipped over and saw the angry glare of the Egyptian police, the weapons of his countrymen still trained on them until the moment the gate slammed shut.

  Heels on cobblestone clipped through the night as Stephen was helped to his feet. A woman rushed up to them, her arms extended, touching each of them as she arrived in their midst.

  “I’m Lois MacLeod. Are you the students from University College London?” she asked finally, after seemingly confirming they weren’t apparitions.

  “Yes,” replied Stephen. “Have you heard from Professor Palmer? Are they okay?”

  She smiled at him, then cocked her head toward the embassy.

  “Why don’t you come with me, I have a phone call for you.”

  They quickly made their way to the embassy, and it wasn’t until they were inside the building itself that Stephen began to feel safe. They entered a side office, everyone crowding inside, and Lois activated the speaker on the desk phone.

  “I have someone who wants to talk to you,” she said.

  There was no reply, and Stephen tentatively leaned forward.

 
“Hello?”

  “Stephen, is that you?”

  Professor Palmer’s voice was the sweetest thing he had ever heard. There were cries and cheers from everyone, and the next words were lost to history, but he didn’t care. He just dropped into the nearest chair, and sobbed in relief, the job he hadn’t wanted, the job meant for Terrence, now complete.

  They were all safe.

  USS James E. Williams, Red Sea

  Medical Bay

  Reading sat beside his friend and partner. It was hard to think of Chaney as his former partner at a time like this, despite it being a couple of years since they had officially worked a case together. But at this moment, with his friend clinging to life, he had never felt closer, and more desperate, for anyone to live.

  It reminded him of the Falklands, the Battle of Mount Harriet, and the aftermath as he and his comrades mourned the death of two of their mates, and prayed for the recovery of the over two dozen wounded, some severely.

  A doctor entered the room, and Reading looked up, waiting as vitals were checked, and charts read.

  “What’s the prognosis, Doc?”

  “Looks like he’ll live,” said the greying Lt. Commander. “The question now is whether or not he’ll come out of this coma. Just give him time. I’ve seen men far worse than this come out of these things, so there’s lots of reason for optimism.”

  Reading nodded, looking back at his friend, when a Seaman rushed into the room.

  “Sir, you have a phone call.”

  Reading pointed at himself. “Me?”

  “Yes, sir.” The young man grabbed a phone off the wall and hit a few buttons. “You can take it here, sir.”

  Reading stood up and took the phone.

  Who in the blazes would be calling me here?

  “Reading here.”

  “Hugh, my friend! This is Rahim! Where the bloody hell are you?”

  Reading breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t more bad news, a smile spreading across his face as the doctor and Seaman left the room.

  “I’m on some American ship in the Red Sea. We were rescued by some—” He stopped himself before he broadcast the fact US forces had been on Egyptian soil, then realized it was pointless. The fact the chopper had to be refueled several times on the mission in mid-air meant clearances had been obtained. “—friends,” he completed.