“Shit, Jack, a chopper. He must have been on the far side of the base,” John yelled.
The helicopter’s search light illuminated the ground immediately in front of Madeleine’s position. All three were firing on the helicopter as its search light and heavy machinegun fire came closer.
“They’ll be hit,” Jack exclaimed as both he and John opened fire on the chopper, knowing that at this distance their shots would do little damage. They watched as Madeleine’s team returned fire, but the attack helicopter had the clear advantage. All three stood in a last effort to strike the armored helicopter in a vulnerable spot to bring it down. The search light was almost upon them when a streak of fire shot out from the top of the sand dune and exploded on impact with the helicopter, halting its forward momentum. The ruined machine crashed to the ground, exploding a second time as the fuel tanks burst apart.
John and Jack looked at each other in shock.
“Oh my god,” John said. “That was Karen.”
“She obviously knows how to fire a rocket launcher,” Jack said laughing. “Let’s go get the others.”
Madeleine watched as Karen’s rocket destroyed the helicopter. She and the others turned and ran up the sand dune. The remaining men in the jeeps fired sporadically, unable to clearly see any of the retreating combatants through the roaring flame of the helicopter wreckage. They reached the top of the dune just as John and Jack ran up.
“You see that?” John yelled. “Now that’s shooting.”
Karen ran towards them and saw Tracy. She flung herself into his arms just as John ran up and grabbed them both.
“We have to go,” Madeleine said with authority herding the others towards the Range Rover. “Jack, you drive. Everyone else get in.” The group piled into the vehicle, seconds before Jack floored the accelerator and sped back onto the road.
“We need to get onto the main road as soon as we can, Jack,” Madeleine said.
“We will. We have to distance ourselves from here,” Jack said.
“They won’t expect us to go further into Syria. Hopefully they’ll be watching the roads leading towards Israel and Jordan,” John said.
“I never expected to see you all,” Tracy exclaimed. “But thank you. I have a million questions, but will wait until we’re out of here.”
“We’re not out yet. We have to get to the airport in Damascus,” Madeleine said.
“Cecil’s there,” John said by way of explanation.
“Ariel, is Israel at war with Syria?” Tracy said, recognizing the Mossad agent.
“Yes, we are. Syria and Egypt,” Ariel answered.
“Was this a Mossad mission?” Tracy asked.
“Not until tonight. The director’s hands were tied by the Knesset. He wanted to come after you right away. He sees you as Mossad,” Ariel said.
“Then we are at war,” Tracy answered, hugging both of his parents.
Syrian Colonel Al Diri stood at the edge of the crater looking down into the smoldering pile of twisted metal at the bottom. His uniform was torn and he was covered with soot and blast residue. He turned his gaze onto the wreckage of the attack helicopter as a team sprayed foam on the charred metal. He shook his head and looked south in the direction of Israel, realizing that the war was far from over.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
“Cecil, you didn’t have to bring one of your private jets for us,” John said over the shoulder of his friend as he sat in the pilot’s seat of the Lear jet as it sped over the Mediterranean Sea towards London.
“Glad to be of service,” Cecil Tripoli said. “Is everyone comfortable in the back?”
“Everyone is asleep,” John answered. “We’ve had a lot of excitement in the last few days. Thanks for arranging to pick us up.”
“We’ll let them sleep for now, but when we hit London, I expect a celebration is in order,” Tripoli said. “Did you have any trouble on the way to the airport?”
“None at all,” John said. “I guess all eyes are looking south. We drove right to the gate you told us to.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I think the Syrians had more pressing concerns. Since you left Israel, the Israelis mounted a counter attack and are pushing Syria and Egypt back over the border. The Israelis are pissed off and heading this way,” Cecil said.
“Do you think they’ll make it to Damascus?” John said.
“No, the international community is pushing for a cease fire. A real one this time,” Cecil said.
“I’m glad we’re out of it. I could use some sleep myself,” John said, yawning. “I know you and your celebrations; I’ll need all the sleep I can get.”
“Go ahead, use my cabin,” Cecil said. “Just leave the flying to me.”
“Thanks again,” John said. “This is a lot more comfortable than the transport we flew in on.”
“How long were you in Israel?” Cecil said.
“So much happened, it seems like forever,” John said.
“You got Tracy back and that’s all that matters now.”
“It took more than an hour to answer all of his questions. He is grateful beyond words. And so is his mother,” John said.
“Thanks to all of you,” Cecil said.
“We all did our part, but it was Madeleine who pulled it off,” John said as he moved towards the back of the plane. He walked back towards his bunk listening to the peaceful sounds of sleep all around him. Madeleine and Jack were curled up next to each other, asleep in the plush cushions of a pull out couch. Karen and Ariel were asleep in separate seats. Only Tracy was awake, sitting back in the galley, with a drink in his hand.
“I’ll have one of those,” John said gesturing to the glass of whiskey in Tracy’s hand.
Tracy poured some whiskey into a glass of ice and handed it to John. “Dad, I don’t know what to say. You all saved my life. I thought I was gone for sure,” Tracy said.
“I’ll always come for you, Tracy,” John said clinking glasses with his son. As he did so, a wave of relief washed over him. Tracy was safe and on his way home. After all of the danger and excitement of the last couple of weeks, there was one thing he was certain of, none of them would be returning to the Middle East any time soon.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The dark haired assassin looked down at her victim as he whimpered for his life. She felt neither pity for him nor remorse as she fired two bullets into his head from a silenced pistol. As the man slumped to the carpet, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving no trace of having been there except for the corpse on the floor. She tucked the silenced pistol under her shirt and zipped up her jacket. She pulled the dark cap from her head and let her long black hair tumble to her shoulders as she exited the room and walked down the hallway.
Amaya felt the knife in her heart before she had time to react. She turned her head and stared into the black eyes of her assailant, as the hand holding the knife thrust it upwards and twisted it in the same movement. Amaya’s body lurched forward onto the blade as her hands tried to grab the hilt.
“But you’re dead,” Amaya croaked through the blood welling up in her mouth “How?” she managed to say as her body started to wilt.
“Angels don’t die,” Madeleine said as she lowered Amaya’s body to the carpeted floor and ghosted away.
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