Angels Don't Die

by Petrek, Soren

  The presence of the Russian advisors troubled him. He certainly didn’t want to be handed over to them and a completely uncertain future. He hoped that if the war was starting, perhaps the US would then be in a position to try to get him out or at least work with the Mossad for his release. Whatever happened he knew it would have to be soon if he was going to make it home.

  Unlike the Palestinians, the Syrians treated him with respect. His captors said little, but he was given decent food and was placed in a room, not a cell. When he was first captured, the PLO had kept him in lightless underground cells. After a long, jolting ride in the desert heat, he had been brought to this new place. His new prison was above ground, but no less sturdy. He was in a brick structure. A small window at the top let in light but it was too high for him to see out. Although he asked his guards often what day it was, he found himself losing track, and the boredom of the empty room and the lack of windows made it worse.

  His tried to remember Rachel’s face and the sound of her voice. Her death had only been a few weeks ago, but he couldn’t dwell on it. He hoped it wasn’t the selfishness of his need for self-preservation that pushed those simple memories out of reach. He wondered about the possibility of escape. He knew the farther he was from a friendly country the more unlikely he would ever get away, but he refused to give up hope.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “The Syrian base is located near the town of, Suweida, just north of Bosra,” Ariel said pointing to a map spread out in front of Madeleine and the others on the table in the new safe house.

  “How will we cross into Syria?” John said. “Hopefully not on the backs of camels.”

  “That would provide the most cover,” Madeleine said. “I’m worried about making it past the enemy.”

  “So far, the war is not going well,” Ariel said. “The Syrians are focused on pressing their victory in the Golan Heights. I think the best way to go is to skirt the bottom of Jordan and enter at the top of the Golan Heights, flanking the enemy.”

  “Has Jordan participated in the attack?”

  “No, and we don’t expect them to. They are worried that they’ll lose more territory. King Hussein made it clear that Jordan is not going to participate in any aggression against Israel,” Ariel said.

  “He warned of an impending attack, didn’t he?” Jack said.

  “He met with Golda Meir more than a week ago and told her that he thought Egypt and Syria would attack together,” Ariel said.

  “Israel must have been expecting this kind of attack for some time,” John said.

  “Too many of our leaders didn’t consider them capable of war,” Ariel said. “We thought they might attack, but certainly not on the holy day Yom Kippur. It is the holiest of our holy days,” Ariel said. “We were overconfident that our air force would repel any attack. Now we’re on the defensive.”

  “I think we should go immediately north to the Jordanian border and enter into Syria, tonight if possible,” Madeleine said.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” Jack said.

  “I’m tired, but we have no other choice. If Israel loses this war, our options become more and more limited for getting Tracy out of Syria. Every minute the Israeli military is pushed back, the front becomes farther away from the Syrian border,” Madeline said.

  “I know the Knesset won’t allow that to happen. We don’t retreat, we go forward,” Ariel said with conviction. “Since everyone in the reserves was close to home when the attack began, we were able to mobilize and respond almost immediately,” Ariel said.

  “I spoke to MI6, they didn’t expect the strike either. Nor did the Americans, or so I’m told. Everyone knew that Egypt was engaging in heavy military maneuvers, just days ago, but those were dismissed as a training exercise,” Jack said.

  “I’m sure the KGB knew when the attack was going to occur,” John said. “But we’ll never know.”

  “If we go through the top of Jordan and over into Syria, won’t the Jordanian government object?” Madeleine said.

  “They refuse to take sides at all, but we can’t count on them for support,” Ariel said, “That means we can’t cross at a controlled point. We’ll have to do it through unoccupied land.”

  “I’m concerned that if we cross anywhere near the location of the fighting, that there will be too great a chance that we’ll be spotted or have to fight all the way to the compound where Tracy is being held,” Madeleine said. “If Jordan is neutral, we can use that to our benefit. We could enter Jordan at a more southern point, travel up through the country and enter Syria from behind the front lines.”

  Ariel looked at Madeleine. “Where would you cross?” she said.

  “Here,” Madeleine said pointing to a small expanse of water to the west of Jerusalem.

  “But that’s the Dead Sea,” Karen said.

  “Yes, I know, and it’s only about eleven miles across at the widest point,” Madeleine said.

  “What do we do when we get to the Jordanian coast?” Ariel asked.

  “We meet up with Mossad and travel north to the Syrian border near the Jordanian town of Irbid and cross into Syria there. It will be well behind and to the east of the fighting. While Jordan might not be a Syrian ally in this war, they won’t be expecting an incursion from Jordanian soil,” Madeleine said.

  “Once we cross the Dead Sea and land in Jordanian territory, how far will it be to the Syrian border?” John asked.

  “According to the map, about sixty miles,” Madeleine answered.

  “Is the Dead Sea navigable?” Karen asked.

  “It’s not common, but not impossible,” Ariel said. “The Turks moved grain and other trade goods across by boats for hundreds of years. Since we are not at war with Jordan, it is unlikely that we would be spotted if we crossed at night. We have to be very careful though, as boats capsize easily and even the smallest wave can be very dangerous.”

  “Why?” Karen asked.

  “The salt density is almost nine times denser than sea water. When a wave hits the side of your boat, it’s that many times heavier and solid. They push things out of the way with greater force than normal,” Ariel answered. “The beaches are crusted with salt, and lack any significant sand,” Ariel said. “I’d rather not go for a swim if we can avoid it.”

  “I doubt anyone would consider a small boat on the Dead Sea much of an invasion force,” John said. Besides, it’s miles away from the fighting.”

  “John, have you secured our way out?” Madeleine said.

  “Cecil’s ready, just as soon as we let him know,” John said.

  “Madeleine, it’s your decision. Do you want to enter Jordan via the Dead Sea?” Ariel asked.

  “I think it’s the best way to go. The distance is approximately the same, and we won’t be traveling through a country at war,” Madeleine said.

  “Then, I’ll make the arrangements. We have agents in Jordan. I assume we’ll want Jeeps or Range Rovers.”

  “Will we bring our own weapons?” John asked.

  “Yes, but perhaps the agents could find us another heavy machinegun and a rocket launcher,” Madeleine said.

  “When should we leave?” Jack said.

  “As soon as Hartmann is informed and we can arrange for a boat,” Madeleine said.

  “I’ll arrange for the agents when I speak to the director,” Ariel said. “Will we need more help, or will the five of us do?”

  “A smaller group will have more success,” Madeleine said. “We have only one man to rescue. We’ll find Tracy and then the five of us will fly out of Damascus.”

  “Damascus?” Ariel said. “I hope we’re not stealing another aircraft.”

  “No, we’re flying out first class, courtesy of the United States Airborne,” John said. “I have an old friend with many planes.”

  “Of course you do,” Ariel said with a smile.

  Ariel sat across from Hartmann deep beneath the Mossad building. He frowned as he examined the most recent military reports.


  “How bad is it, director?” Ariel asked.

  “The Egyptians are over the Suez and are dug in. We have them stopped, but our resources are thin. The Americans are on the way with supplies and equipment. The Syrians are more concerning; they are firmly into the Golan and have us seriously outnumbered. We’re planning a counter attack, but it has to come soon,” Hartmann said. “What is the status of your mission?”

  “I’ve secured a boat and contacted an agent in Jordan. He will get us the weapons we need and a vehicle to carry us. He’ll put together some provisions and we’ll move up to the border as soon as we’ve crossed.”

  “When you’re at the Syrian base, send someone to look to see if the Russians have moved any missiles there. The last thing we want is an attack on any of our cities, if we can turn the tide of this war,” Hartmann said. “The main objective is to get agent Trunce out of there, but if there are Scud missiles pointed at Tel Aviv, we need to know that. If you can’t blow them in place, then at least we can bomb them from the air.”

  “I will discuss it with the others,” Ariel said.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “Not much of a marina,” Jack said as the group moved away from their Range Rover and down to the edge of the water, crunching the salty crust beneath their feet. The area was dark and deserted. Few animals and fewer people lived anywhere near the shore. Nothing lived in the water. Each member of the party carried a load of weapons and ammunition. They had left everything they couldn’t carry behind at the safe house.

  “I hate to leave the vehicle behind,” John said. “I’ve grown attached to it.”

  “We got an even trade for whatever’s waiting for us on the other side,” Madeleine said, gesturing to the other side of the body of water spreading out before them. The salinity of the air surrounded them as they got closer to the 20 foot metal boat tied to a short dock that protruded out into the water.

  “Has this boat been on the Dead Sea long? Because by the look of this water, it would have dissolved long ago,” Madeleine said shining her pen light into the water.

  “At least it’s not sulfuric acid,” Karen said.

  “No, but it’s at the other end of the PH scale,” John said wrinkling his nose in disgust.

  “Then let’s get in and get going,” Madeleine said.

  The team piled into the boat and Ariel started the outboard engine. The rest of them stepped carefully into the boat, handing their equipment bags to the person in front of them. The outboard started easily and ran smoothly with surprisingly little sound.

  “That motor’s not going to like the salty water,” Jack said.

  “It only has to like it for eight miles,” Ariel said. “We’ll leave it on the other side for whoever finds it.”

  “I doubt few people choose to cross this water,” Madeleine said.

  “No, but everyone wants to try floating in it. The salt makes it very buoyant. I came here with some friends a few years ago. It is an eerie feeling, and you really want a shower when you get out,” Ariel said, engaging the throttle and pulled away from the dock.

  Everyone was quiet as the boat plowed its way across the flat surface, leaving a small wake behind them that flattened out quickly under the weight of the water.

  Half an hour later, lights from the Jordanian side began to become visible as small circles of light against the black expanse of the shoreline.

  “Few people chose to live down by the water,” Ariel said. “That will help us to arrive unnoticed.

  “I’ll be glad to get off this soup,” John said. “Do we have to wait long for transport?”

  “No, the agent on the other side will be there to meet us,”Ariel said. “He chose the approximate landing area, and I’ve followed my compass. We should be close enough to see his flashlight soon.”

  A few minutes later, Karen said, “There, I saw a light go on and off three times in a row, twice now.”

  “That’s him,” Ariel said, slightly adjusting her course. “We’ll be there in five minutes. I’ll throttle down when we get closer, just in case anyone is around to hear us.”

  John returned the signal from the shore with two flashes from his pen light. The others grabbed the bags nearest them as Ariel guided the boat into the shallows. The man on the beach grabbed the bow of the boat as it crunched against the shore. John and Jack helped assist the man, pulling the boat farther up on the beach.

  “Thanks for the prompt pick up, Jonathan,” Ariel said to the man on the shore. “How did you do with the vehicles?”

  “The order was for a Range Rover, and we had one stashed away. It should work just fine. I made sure the tank was full and put a couple of extra jerry cans of water inside, along with some food,” Jonathan said.

  “Great, it looks like it will get us there,” Ariel said.

  “How is the war going?” Jonathan asked.

  “We were pushed back at first, but a counter offensive is coming,” Ariel said.

  “I was ordered to remain here,” Jonathan said.

  “You never know, you might get sent into Syria,” Ariel said.

  “But not on your mission, Ariel,” Jonathan said.

  “Sorry, not this time,” Ariel said.

  “Here are two maps showing the most direct route to the border. If you drive straight through, you’ll be there in a bit more than an hour,” Jonathan said, as the rest of the group walked over.

  “Are we likely to run into a check point?” Jack asked.

  “Not inside the country, but I don’t know what it will be like along the Syrian border. The area delineated on the map is pretty desolate. I doubt you’ll run into a patrol. Their military is focused on defeating Israel, not repelling a small group,” Jonathan said.

  “That’s why the fewer of us the better,” Ariel said, clasping Jonathan on the shoulder. “We’d best get started.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Madeleine and Ariel worked their way down a sand dune, on their knees and elbows as they moved closer to the perimeter fence surrounding the sprawling Syrian army base. They were using a low crawl, moving only their arms and legs while dragging the rest of their bodies along the ground. Moving through the sand allowed them to keep their profiles as low as possible as they approached the fence. The sun was just starting to set over the dunes behind them, casting shadows over them as they trained their binoculars on the main buildings.

  “My guess is that Tracy is being held in the largest building, over there,” Madeleine whispered, gesturing with her finger.

  “I watched this base on two different occasions, gathering intelligence. Both times, I think I saw prisoners taken in and out of that building, but I can’t say for sure,” Ariel said.

  “Why was the Mossad interested in this base?” Madeleine asked.

  “We were looking for Scuds,” Ariel said.

  “Missiles?” Madeleine said.

  “Yes. They have enough range from here to deliver a warhead into the heart of Israel. The Russians supplied them to the Syrians, but I doubt they gave them any tactical nukes,” Ariel said. “Director Hartmann wanted us to check to see if there were any on the base.”

  “Will the Syrian army actually fire Scuds into Israel?” Madeleine asked. “I can understand his concern. Scuds are notoriously inaccurate and land indiscriminately.”

  “They might, but they’d want to avoid the territories they want to recapture. There’s also the possibility of a Scud hitting an Egyptian position. I don’t think they’ll use them, but I can’t say for sure. If they lose and use them to retaliate, Israel has a few missiles of our own,” Ariel said.

  “If we see missiles during our attack, what do you want to do, Ariel?” Madeleine said.

  “I’ll stay behind and disable them while you and the team get Tracy out,” Ariel said.

  “We’re not leaving you behind. Besides, a big explosion covering our escape would be great,” Madeleine said.

  “I can’t ask you to jeopardize your mission, Madeleine. W
e’re here for Tracy,” Ariel said.

  “If Jack knows there are missiles stored here he won’t leave them in working order,” Madeleine said.

  “Why?” Ariel asked.

  “Jack is a Londoner. He and his family survived the Blitz. I was there for part of it. It was a constant barrage of bombing of both military and civilian targets, and thousands of civilians were killed. At the end of the war, Hitler started firing V-1 rockets directly at London from across the channel. They were almost worse than aerial bombs, because the V-1s had only rudimentary guidance systems. London suffered more than two thousand V-1 attacks.”

  “Couldn’t they be shot down?”

  “Some were others were pushed out of the way,” Madeleine said.

  “Pushed?”

  “Yes, some of the royal Air Force pilots would topple the rockets in flight with their wing tips, lifting them slightly and disturbing the gyroscope inside, causing them to crash into the ground shy of their target,” Madeleine said.

  “You’re joking,” Ariel said.

  “It was a desperate war, Ariel,” Madeleine said. “Now, we’d better get back up to the others and prepare to go in.”

  “The Range Rover will be the rendezvous point after we get Tracy. I think it’s best if Ariel and I go into the main building, with John and Jack setting up defensive positions protecting our escape route. It will be night soon. Once it is fully dark, we should go in,” Madeleine said.

  “Are we going to need any kind of diversion once we’re inside?” Jack said.