by Ken W. Smith
Renee walked towards the BMW. When she saw Rajji was out of hearing distance, she whispered, “You need to get my iPad to Jay as soon as possible. Where is he?”
“He was scouting the Hippodrome. He’s on his way.”
“Tell him to hurry.”
Antonio helped Renee pull the camera equipment from the trunk.
“Benoit and Moses spread out and scan the area.”
Moses removed a compact Uzi submachine gun and hid it under his sports coat. Then, he handed a second gun to Benoit.
“Okay, let’s grab a few shots with you in front of the ruins,” Renee said. “Then we’ll take some shots with the ocean in the background.”
Sammi and Rajji stood in front of the Ferrari as Renee snapped photos. She peered through the lens, trying to find the best angle. When a cloud of dust rose near the historical site entrance, she thought Jay was coming in to join her.
Then she realized it wasn’t Jay. Instead, it was a flatbed tow truck leading four pickup trucks down the path. Jay’s Land Rover was nowhere in sight. Her heart almost stopped when she saw men standing in the back of the pickups holding rifles.
“What’s the matter?” Sammi said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
“Turn around,” Renee said.
Sammi looked at the trucks approaching, then turned to Rajji. “What have you done?”
Rajji said nothing. He waved to the lead truck, which pulled off to the side of the stone path. A flatbed truck pulled up and stopped behind the Ferrari. The four pickups stopped on both sides of the road.
A large man with a rotund stomach and white beard stepped out of the passenger door. Renee recognized him as Yaseer Benrazah, head of the Southern Lebanon Hezbollah party.
“Rajji, Sammi, it is so nice to see you,” Benrazah said. “You must introduce me to your beautiful friend.”
Renee smiled and approached Benrazah with an open hand. Antonio stood out from behind the BMW and joined her. The large man planted a kiss on her left cheek, her right cheek, then her left cheek again. Renee smelled cigar smoke and liquor on his breath. She smiled and returned the embrace.
“Renee Giovanni from Ferrari Motors,” she said. “This is my associate Antonio Borracci. It is a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“You know who I am?” Benrazah said. “How do you know me?”
“Of course, I would know you are the Minister of Parliament for southern Lebanon. You have a reputation as a fair and honest politician. A rare find in the Middle East.”
“You are not afraid to speak your mind, Miss Giovanni. That is quite brave for a young woman. Now we must discuss your business arrangement.”
“Excuse me, sir, our business is with the Nasharif brothers. How are you involved?”
“I must approve any ventures requiring public infrastructure improvements. Building a new dealership requires these improvements. Right Rajji?”
“Yes, of course, Yaseer.”
“How much do you need to meet your requirements?” Renee said.
“About two hundred fifty-thousand American dollars,” Benrazah said. “That is the value of this gorgeous automobile. No?”
“He wants the car,” Renee whispered to Antonio, who shook his head.
“We can’t give him the car,” he said. “I mortgaged my house as collateral with the dealership in Beirut. My insurance company wouldn’t give me a binder.”
“Who could blame them,” Renee said. “We don’t have a choice. Twenty armed men are surrounding us. We’re in Hezbollah territory, for God’s sake.”
“I did bring a backup policy.”
“Who Jay and his two men? How are they going to get us out of this situation? We can’t shoot our way out of here, Antonio. They’ll kill us. We have to give him the car.”
“No, you need to tell him we can’t give him the car.”
Renee turned to Benrazah, “I’m sorry, Minister Benrazah, I do not have the authority to give you this car. But I can speak to my manager at the factory and see if we can make arrangements to build you a custom vehicle.”
“I’m afraid that will not work. I will take the car. You and your associates will stay as my guests while we investigate your true motives for coming to my city.”
* * *
Renee grabbed Antonio by the collar and pulled his head down so she could whisper in his ear, “We can’t let Hezbollah know who I worked for or take me hostage. I still know too many active agents in the field.”
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Antonio replied.
“Come on, Antonio, let’s go,” Renee said as she walked toward the Ferrari. “We’re done here. Sammi, will you get my camera?”
Renee heard the sound of twenty men cocking their rifles.
She watched Sammi reach for the camera. Suddenly, the camera exploded. A fraction of a second later, the crack of a rifle shot rang out. Sammi fell to the ground covering his head. A return shot from Moses blew out the window of the flatbed truck.
The driver of the truck jumped to the ground. He raised his AK47 towards Renee. Benoit released a burst of automatic weapons fire from behind the BMW. The driver crumpled to the ground. Renee grabbed Sammi off the ground and dragged him behind the BMW. Then gunfire exploded around them—Antonio dove for cover behind the Ferrari as bullets tore into the sports car’s body.
Renee watched Rajji guide Benrazah to safety behind the tow truck. She ducked when bullets smashed into the raised trunk of the BMW, inches from her face.
“Give me a gun,” she said. “I want Rajji.”
“Do not kill him,” Sammi said. “He’s angry, but he’s a good man.”
“He double-crossed us, Sammi. He’s trying to kill us.”
“Not me. You and your men. Let me go, and I will convince him to release you.”
“No chance. You’re our insurance policy.”
“I’m not worth much. Rajji won’t care if I die. I’m not one of them.”
“What do you mean?” Renee said as she covered her head from shattering glass. The gunfire was deafening.
“I’m not in Hezbollah. I don’t believe in fighting. It’s bad for business.”
“What good are you?”
“I know a lot about Hezbollah. They meet at our house. I have recordings and videos. I will give them to you. You give them to your people, whoever they are.”
“Where are they? At the house?”
“No, they are digital files. I store them in a secret Lockbox folder online.”
Renee realized her pocketbook with her iPad and the video files were in the backseat of the Ferrari.
“Antonio, I need my pocketbook. Can you get it from the Ferrari?”
“Are you kidding? They’ll rip me to shreds.”
Moses handed his Uzi to Antonio. “Cover me,” he said.
Antonio sprayed bullets towards the Hezbollah fighters moving towards the car. When they ducked for cover, Moses crouched low and ran for the Ferrari. A curtain of bullets smashed the windshield. As black smoke poured out of the hood, Moses slid to a stop behind the car. When the gunfire stopped, he leaped into the backseat. A moment later, Moses emerged with Renee’s pocketbook. He rolled out of the backseat and sprinted back towards the BMW. When he was about twenty feet away, the Ferrari burst into flames knocking Moses to the ground right next to Renee. She grabbed his jacket and pulled it with all her strength. But the large man didn’t move.
“Antonio, Benoit, help me!” she yelled. She looked to see Antonio watching the Ferrari burn. He turned to her with tears in his eyes. “What will I tell my wife when they come to take our house?”
“Don’t worry about that now,” Renee said. “Help us!”
Benoit dropped his rifle and grabbed Moses under his arms. He pulled with all his strength, dragging the beefy Lithuanian to cover behind the car.
Renee saw Hezbollah fighters appear in front of the blackened remains of the sports car. They were closing in.
Renee grabbed Sammi around the neck.
She pressed her handgun against his temple.
“What do you know about your niece Kathleen Amejian and Muhammed al-Mujadin?”
“Everything. I presided over their wedding.”
“We need to get you out of here in one piece.”
“That does not look possible,” Sammi said. “Rajji will call in reinforcements. They will kill you.”
“I have my own reinforcements, and it looks like they’re on their way now.”
* * *
Jay drove the black Land Rover down the ancient causeway. CJ and Madman hung out the back seat windows tearing up the fighters in the pickup trucks with their automatic weapons. By the time they reached the flatbed, flames, and smoke rose from both sides of the road. Benrazah pulled a rocket-propelled grenade launcher out of the side of the truck. But before he could load it, bullets ripped his body in half. The rocket shot out of the launcher over the roof of the Land Rover. It smashed into a Roman column, sending two-thousand-year-old rocks flying everywhere.
Jay stopped the Land Rover behind the flatbed and jumped out. Renee saw Rajji lift his rifle and point it at Jay. Unlike the other Hezbollah fighters who carried AK47s, he held an HK433. It was one of the world’s most advanced weapons. The laser finder danced on Jay’s forehead. Before he pulled the trigger, Renee pushed Sammi to the ground, then fired two rounds into the back of Rajji’s head.
Renee pulled Sammi up and ran up to the Land Rover. She pushed Sammi into the back seat. She turned to Jay and said, “What took you so long?”
“Somebody gave me wrong directions,” Jay said. “Anyways, it looked like you had things under control.”
Renee smiled as she pulled her iPad from her pocketbook and handed it to Jay. “Upload the files on the iPad as soon as you can. We need to get out of here before Hezbollah comes looking for us.”
“Renee, nice shooting back there.”
“Thanks. Now we’re even.”
Chapter 44
After thirty minutes of high-speed driving through southern Lebanon’s hills, Jay felt confident he escaped from the Hezbollah fighters. He found themselves driving through a heavily wooded region overlooking the Bekaa Valley. The road was windy, limiting his speed. The yellow low-gas light had been on for some time. The complaints of his passengers didn’t help. Jay needed to find a place to pull over.
“We need to stop,” Sammi said from the backseat. “Please, I need to go to the bathroom. Plus, I feel sick.”
“I need to go too,” CJ said. “My legs are cramping.”
“Jay, pull over,” Antonio said. “I won’t be able to stand the smell if Sammi throws up.”
“Everybody be quiet,” Renee said. “You sound like a bunch of schoolchildren. We must not let the Hezbollah catch us. They will kill Sammi. We must keep going.”
The wooded road Jay drove on was secluded, and Jay spotted a dirt area at the corner of a hairpin curve and pulled the Land Rover over.
“Alright, enough arguing. Everyone get out,” Jay said, “Go into the woods, do your duty, and take up defensive positions. CJ, make sure Sammi is out of sight.”
Jay grabbed his weapon and jogged to the edge of the treeline. He spent a few minutes finding a sightline where he could watch the road and see the SUV, then scanned the road through his rifle’s scope.
Antonio and Renee kneeled next to Jay. Each trained their rifles on the road and watched for their pursuers.
“We must cross the border into Syria,” Antonio said, “then back into Israel. The Golan Heights is our only option at this point. It’s too dangerous to return to Beirut.”
“I agree,” Renee said. “But, Syria is not an option. There are thousands of Hezbollah and Hamas fighters between us and the border, and they are all looking for us.”
“What do you propose we do,” Jay said. “We’re out of gas.”
“Let them catch us,” Renee said. “I have a plan.”
* * *
Ten minutes passed before the first Hezbollah pick-up truck appeared on the road. It drove past their hiding spot.
Jay held his breath, waiting for the next truck, which wasn’t far behind the first. The truck slowed down, then turned off the road. He released his safety and aimed at the driver’s head. Then waited.
The man from the passenger seat appeared to be the team’s leader. One of the fighters from the truck bed jumped out to stretch his legs.
“Ahmed, where did they go?” Jay heard the fighter ask his leader.
“Look around, Samir. They didn’t have much time to go very far.”
The two men looked into the empty vehicle and seemed confused. Then, Samir walked directly towards Jay’s tree. Jay trained his laser sight on the man’s forehead and waited.
Samir stopped at the tree, slung his rifle over his shoulder, and pulled down his zipper to relieve himself.
Jay could smell the urine but didn’t move. Then, before Samir finished urinating, Antonio jumped out from behind his tree, clasped his hand over Samir’s mouth, and dragged him back into the woods. One down.
Achmed looked puzzled. “Samir, where did you go?” He waved to the driver, “Come out here and help me find Samir. He was standing by that tree.”
The fighter from the passenger seat approached Renee’s tree looking for the other fighter. He looked down at the ground and saw a trail of urine disappearing into the trees. He signaled the driver and the other fighters who left the truck to join him. They stepped into the treeline following the urine trail, giving Jay and his team the opportunity they were waiting for.
Benoit jumped the driver and pulled him to the ground. Then, CJ smashed the passenger in the face with the butt of his rifle.
Achmed stopped, confused by what was happening. Jay crawled out from behind the tree and put the barrel of his handgun against Achmed’s temple and the blade of his dessert dagger against the man’s throat. He didn’t resist.
“Drop your gun and kneel on the ground,” Renee said in Arabic. “Take off your uniform. Boots first.”
Achmed sat and untied his boots. CJ pulled them off his feet.
“Your top.”
The man unbuttoned his uniform, and Renee pulled the sleeves off one at a time.”
“Now, your pants.”
The man smiled. “You pleasure me like a whore?”
“Shut up,” Renee said, punching him in the face. “I’ll cut your balls off if you say another word.”
“Make sure you tie them up and tape their mouth’s shut,” Jay said after his team stripped the fighters. “We need to get going before they are missed. I hope there is enough gas in their truck to get us back to Tyre.”
* * *
The smell of salt air and a healthy sea breeze helped calm Jay’s nerves as Antonio drove the technical up to the UNESCO security gate. The seacoast road was once a popular tourist route. It scaled the magnificent white cliffs extending from south of Tyre to Haifa across Israel’s border. In 2006, after the tragic thirty-day war, the United Nations created a buffer zone to prevent Hezbollah militants and Israeli defense force troops from attacking each other. The new border, known as the blue line, was disputed by both sides. The UN forces that controlled this region consisted of troops from various countries, mostly Africa. They were more lenient towards Hezbollah, and Jay planned to exploit this fact.
Renee promised a friend in Mossad would help them once they were in Israel. The hard part was getting across the border. She insisted she knew a route that was safer than trying to cross at the main gate.
Jay, Renee, and Antonio sat in the cab of the small Toyota pickup. In the back, canvas sacks covered Sammi and the rest of the assault team. Just in case the UNESCO guards spotted them, they all wore the dark camouflage uniforms of Hezbollah’s regular forces. All except for Renee, who wore the same dress she had earlier in the day—now dirty and covered in blood. It worked for their plan.
A guard wearing the blue UNESCO helmet and khaki uniform approached the truck. In the passenger seat, Jay held his gun agai
nst Renee’s stomach. Antonio rolled down his window.
“What is your business?” the guard asked in Arabic.
“Just looking for somewhere to have a little fun,” Antonio replied, also in Arabic. “Our friend here is feisty, and we need somewhere remote to calm her down.”
“I cannot do that. The border is closed.”
Antonio gazed at the camera behind the guard watching his every move. Finally, Antonio waved slightly, and the guard approached.
“We don’t want to cross the border. Just find a quiet spot near the water. Perhaps we can offer a small gift to your commanding officer for looking the other way for an hour or two? So we can have our fun.”
“Do not do it!” Renee screamed. “These men are bastards, and they are going to rape me!”
“She is just kidding. We mean her no harm.”
“He is lying! Do not listen to him.”
Antonio turned and slapped Renee across the face. She fell into Jay’s lap and stayed still.
The guard laughed. “You showed her who is boss. Your offer is tempting, and I would enjoy joining you, but my partner called in sick, and I must stay at the gate.”
Antonio handed an envelope filled with cash to the guard, “We will go several miles down the road. You will not see us or hear from us, and we will return well before light.”
The guard pocketed the envelope, then turned and lifted the gate. Antonio drove through.
* * *
The rusty strands of wire tore into Jay’s hands as he traversed the side of the white, chalky cliff thirty feet above the churning waves. The path, initially created in the late eighties, was used by Mossad to train new agents. But, since the border closed, it was no longer maintained.
“Are you sure this is the safest route to cross the border?” Sammi said.
“We can try crossing the minefield in front of the border wall,” Renee said. “I’m sure their marksmen will not be able to spot your Hezbollah uniform.”
“Is that why you all changed into civilian clothes, and I’m still wearing the uniform?