"mine everything in mecca you mark, blow it and the cave entrance simultaneously, and run like the clappers all the way home."
rosemont smiled and felt better. "where's home for you?"
"i don't know really," ross said caught unawares. he had never asked himself the question. after a moment, more for himself than the american, he added, "perhaps scotland perhaps nepal. my father and mother're in katmandu, they're as scots as i am but they've been living there off and on since '51 when he retired. i was even born there though i did almost all my schooling in scotland." both're home, for me, he thought. "what about you?"
"washington, d.c. really, falls church, virginia, which is almost part of washington. i was born there." rosemont wanted a cigarette but he knew it might be dangerous. "pa was cia. he's dead now but he was at langley for the last few years, which's close by cia hq's at langley." he was happy to be talking. "ma's still in falls church, haven't been back in a couple of years. you ever been to the states?"
"no, not yet." the wind had picked up a little and they both studied the night for a moment.
"it'll die down after midnight," rosemont said confidently.
ross saw the guide shift position again. is he going to make a run for it? "you've worked with the guide before?"
"sure. i tramped all over the mountains with him last year i spent a month here. routine. lotta the opposition infiltrate through this area and we try to keep tabs on 'em like they do us." rosemont watched the guide. "meshgi's a good joe. kurds don't like iranians, or iraqis or our friends across the border.
but you're right to ask." |
ross switched to gurkhali. "tenzing, watch everywhere and the pathfinder you eat later." at once tenzing slipped out of his pack and was gone into the night. "i sent him on guard."
"good," rosemont said. he had watched them all very carefully on the climb up and was very impressed with the way they worked as a team, leapfrogging, always one of them flanking, always seeming to know what to do, no orders, always safety catches off. "isn't that kinda dangerous?" he had said early on.
"yes, mr. rosemont if you don't know what you're doing," the britisher had said to him with no arrogance that he could detect. "but when every tree
or corner or rock could hide hostiles, the difference between safety on and off could mean killing or being killed."
vien rosemont remembered how the other had added guilelessly, "we'll do everything we can to support you and get you out," and he wondered again if they would get in, let alone out. it was almost a week since mecca had been abandoned. no one knew what to expect when they got there it could be intact, already stripped, or even occupied. "you know this whole ops crazy?"
"ours not to reason why."
"ours but to do or die? i think that's the shits!"
"i think that's the shits too if it's any help."
it was the first time they had laughed together. rosemont felt much better. "listen, haven't said it before, but i'm happy you three're aboard."
"we're, er, happy to be here." ross covered his embarrassment at the open compliment. "agha," he called out to the guide, "please join us at food."
"thank you, agha, but i am not hungry," the old man replied without moving from the cave mouth.
rosemont put his boots back on. "you got a lot of special units in iran?"
"no. half a dozen we're here training iranians. you think bakhtiar will weather it?" he opened his pack and distributed the cans of bully beef.
"no. the word in the hills among the tribes is that he'll be out probably shot within the week."
ross whistled. "bad as that?"
"worse: that azerbaijantll be a soviet protectorate within the year."
"bloody hell!"
"sure. but you never know" vien smiled "that's what makes life interesting."
casually ross offered the flask. "best iranian rotgut money can buy."
rosemont grimaced and took a careful sip, then beamed. "jesus h. christ, it's real scotch!" he prepared to take a real swallow but ross was ready and he grabbed the flask back.
"easy does it it's all we've got, agha."
rosemont grinned. they ate quickly. the cave was snug and safe. "you ever been to vietnam?" rosemont asked, wanting to talk, feeling the time right.
"no, never have. almost went there once when my father and i were enroute to hong kong but we were diverted to bangkok from saigon."
"with the gurkhas?"
"no, this was years ago, though we do have a battalion there now. i was," ross thought a moment, "i was seven or eight, my father has some vague hong kong relations, dunross, yes that was their name, and there was some sort of clan gathering. i don't remember much of hong kong except a leper
who lay in the dirt by the ferry terminal. i had to pass him every day almost every day."
"my dad was in hong kong in '63," vien said proudly. "he was deputy director of station cia." he picked up a stone, toyed with it. "you know i'm half-vietnamese?"
"yes, they told me."
"what else did they tell you?"
"lust that i could trust you with my life."
rosemont smiled wryly. "let's hope they're right." thoughtfully he began checking the action of his mid. "i've always wanted to visit vietnam. my pa, my real pa, was vietnamese, a planter, but he was killed just before i was born that was when the french owned indochina. he got clobbered by viet cong just outside dien bien phu. ma..." the sadness dropped off him and he smiled. "ma's as american as a big mac and when she remarried she picked one of the greatest. no real pa could've loved me more..."
abruptly gueng cocked his carbine. "sahib!" ross and rosemont grabbed their weapons, then there was a keening on the wind, ross and gueng relaxed. "it's tenzing."
the sergeant appeared out of the night as silently as he had left. but now his face was grim. "sahib, many trucks on the road below "
"in english, tenzing."
"yes, sahib. many trucks, i counted eleven, in convoy, on the road at the bottom of the valley..."
rosemont cursed. "that road leads to mecca. how far away were they?"
the little man shrugged. "at the bottom of the valley. i went the other side of the ridge and there's a..." he said the gurkhali word and ross gave him the english equivalent. "a promontory. the road in the valley twists, then snakes as it climbs. if the tail of the snake is in the valley and the head wherever the road ends, then four trucks were already well past tail."
rosemont cursed again. "an hour at best. we'd bell " at that moment there was a slight scuffle and their attention flashed to the cave mouth. they just had time to see the guide rushing away, gueng in pursuit.
"what the hell..."
"for whatever reason, he's abandoning ship," ross said. "forget him. does an hour give us a chance?"
"sure. plenty." quickly they got into their packs and rosemont armed his light machine gun. "what about gueng?"
"he'll catch us up."
"we'll go straight in. i'll go first if i run into trouble you abort. okay?"
the cold was almost a physical barrier they had to fight through but rosemont led the way well, the snow not bad on the meandering path, the moon helping,
their climbing boots giving them good traction. quickly they topped the ridge and headed down the other side. here it was more slippery, the mountainside barren, just a few clumps of weeds and plants fighting to get above the snow. ahead now was the maw of the cave, the road running into it, many vehicle tracks in the snow.
"they could've been made by our trucks," rosemont said, covering his disquiet. "there's been no snow for a couple of weeks." he motioned the others to wait and went forward, then stepped out on the road and ran for the entrance. tenzing followed, using the ground for cover, moving as rapidly.
ross saw rosemont disappear into the darkness. then tenzing. his anxiety increased. from where he was he could not see far down the road, for it curled away, falling steeply. the strong moonlight made the crags and the wide valley more omino
us, and he felt naked and lonely and hated the waiting. but he was confident. "if you've gurkhas with you, you've always a chance, my son," his father had said. "guard them they'll always guard you. and never forget, with luck, one day you'll be sheng'khan." ross had smiled to himself, so proud, the title given so rarely: only to one who had brought honor to the regiment, who had scaled a worthy nepalese peak alone, who had used the kookri and had saved the life of a ghurkha in the service of the great raj. his grandfather, captain kirk ross, mc, killed in 1915 at the battle of the somme, had been given it posthumously; his father, lieutenant colonel gavin ross, dso, was given it in burma, in 1943. and me? well, i've scaled a worthy peak k4 and that's all so far but i've lots of time...
his fine-tuned senses warned him and he had his kookri out, but it was only gueng. the little man was standing over him, breathing hard. "not fast enough, sahib," he whispered happily in gurkhali. "i could have taken you moments ago." he held up the severed head and beamed. "i bring you a gift."
it was the first that ross had seen. the eyes were open. terror still contorted the face of the old man. gueng killed him but i gave the order, he thought, sickened. was he just an old man who was scared fartless and wanted to get out while the going was good? or was he a spy or a traitor rushing to betray us to the enemy?
"what is it, sahib?" gueng whispered, his brow furrowed.
"nothing. put the head down."
gueng tossed it aside. the head rolled a little down the slope then stopped. "i searched him, sahib, and found this." he handed him the amulet. "it was around his throat and this" he gave him the small leather bag "this hung down around his balls."
the amulet was just a cheap blue stone worn against the evil eye. inside the little bag was a small card, wrapped in plastic. ross squinted at it and his heart
skipped a beat. at that moment there was another keening on the wind, the note different. immediately they picked up their guns and ran for the cave mouth, knowing that tenzing had given them the all-clear signal and to hurry. inside the throat of the cavern the darkness seemed deeper and then, as their eyes adjusted, they saw a fleck of light. it was a flashlight, the lens partially covered.
"over here, captain." though it was softly said, rosemont's voice echoed loudly. "this way." he led them farther into the cave and when he was sure it was safe he shone the light on the rock walls and all around to get his bearings. "it's okay to use your flashes." the cave was immense, many tunnels and passages leading off it, some natural, some man-made, the rock dome fifty feet overhead. "this's the unloading area," he said. when he found the tunnel he sought he shone the light down it. at the end was a thick steel door, half open. "it should be locked," he whispered, his voice raw. "i don't know if it was left like that or what, but that's where we have to go."
ross motioned to tenzing. at once the kookri came out and the soldier went forward to vanish inside. automatically ross and gueng took up defensive positions. against whom? ross asked himself helplessly, feeling trapped. there could be fifty men hidden in any one of those other tunnels.
the seconds dragged. again there was the keening. ross led the rush through the doorway, then gueng, then rosemont. as rosemont passed the door he saw that tenzing had taken up a position nearby and was covering them. he pulled the door to and switched on the lights. the suddenness made the others gasp.
"hallelujah!" rosemont said, openly relieved. "the brass figured if the generators were still working, we'd have a good shot. this door's lightproof." he slid heavy bolts into place, hung his flashlight on his belt.
they were in another cave, much smaller, that had been adapted, the floor levered and carpeted roughly, the walls made more flat. it was a form of anteroom with desks and phones and litter everywhere. "the guys sure didn't waste any time getting the hell out, did they?" he said bitterly, hurrying across the room to another tunnel, down it and into another cave room with more desks, a few radar screens, and more phones, grey and green.
"the grays're internal, greens go to the tower and masts on the crest, from there by satellite to tehran, our hq switchboard in the embassy, and various top secret places they've built-in scramblers." rosemont picked one up. it was dead. "maybe the communications guys did their job after all." at the far end of the room was a tunnel. "that goes down to the generator room for this section which has all the gear we've to blow. living quarters, kitchens, mess halls, repair shops, are in other caves off the unloading area. about eighty guys worked here around the clock."
"is there any other way out of here?" ross asked. his feeling of being closed in was greater than ever.
"sure, topside, where we're going."
rough steps led upward through the domed roof. rosemont started climbing them. on the landing was a door: top security area no admittance without special authority. it too was open. shit, he muttered. this cave was well-appointed, floor flatter, walls whitewashed. dozens of computers and radar screens, and banked electronic equipment. more desks and chairs and phones, grey and green. and two red on a central desk.
"whattre those for?"
"direct to langley by military satellite." rosemont picked one up. it was
dead. so was the other. he pulled out a piece of paper and checked it, then~]
went over to a bank of switches and turned some on. another obscenity as a soft hum began, computers started chattering, warming up, and three of the radar screens came to life, the central white trace- line turning, leaving a scatter pattern in its wake. "bastards! bastards to leave everything like this." his finger stabbed at four corner computers. "blow those mothers they're the core. "
"gueng!"
"yes, sahib." the gurkha took off his pack and began to lay out the plastic explosives and detonators.
"half-hour fuses?" rosemont said.
"half-hour fuses it is." ross was staring at one of the screens, fascinated. northward he could see most of the caucasus, all of the caspian, eastward even part of the black sea, all with extraordinary clarity."that's a lot of space to peer into."
rosemont went over to its keyboard and turned a switch.
for a moment ross was dumbfounded. he tore his eyes off the screen. "now i understand why we're here."
"that's only part."
"christ! then we'd better get cracking. what about the cave mouth?"
"we've no time to do a decent job and the other side of our door's routine junk they've stolen anyways. we'll blow our tunnels after us and use the escapeway."
"where's that?"
the american went over to a door. this one was locked. he took out a bunch of tagged keys and found the one he wanted. the door swung open. behind the door a narrow flight of stairs spiraled upward steeply. "it leads out onto the mountain."
"tenzing, make sure the way's clear." tenzing went up the stairs two at a time. "next?"
"code room and the safes, we'll mine those. then communications. generator room last, okay?"
"yes." ross liked the incisive strength more and more. "before we do you'd better look at this." he took out the small, plastic-covered card. "gueng caught up with our guide. this was on him."
all color left rosemont's face. on the card was a thumbprint, some writing in russian script, and a signature. "an id!" he burst out. "a commie id!" behind them gueng paused momentarily.
"that's what i thought. what's it say exactly?"
"i don't know, i can't read russian either but i'll bet my life it's a safeconduct pass." a wave of sickness came up from his stomach as he remembered all the days and nights he had spent in the old man's company, wandering the mountains, sleeping alongside him in the open, feeling very safe. and all the time he'd been pegged. numbly he shook his head. "meshgi was with us for years he was one of ali bin hassan karakose's band ali's an underground leader and one of our best contacts in the mountains. great guy who even operates as far north as baku. jesus, maybe he's been betrayed." he looked at the card again. "just doesn't figure."
"i think it figures we could have been
deliberately set up, sitting ducks," ross said. "perhaps the convoy's part of it, full of troops to track us. we'd better hurry it up, eh?"
rosemont nodded, fighting to dominate the fear that swept through him, helped by the calmness of the other man. "yes, yes, you're right." still shattered, he went through a small passage to another door. locked. as he looked for the key on the tabbed ring of keys he said, "i owe you and your men an apology. i don't know how we i got taken in or how that bastard escaped the security check but he did and you're probably right we're set up. sorry, but, shit, that doesn't help a goddamn bit."
"it helps." ross grinned and the fear dropped off both of them. "it helps. okay?"
"okay. thanks, yes, thanks. gueng killed him?"
James Clavell - Whirlwind Page 37