by J Randall
“After our resupply that night we hiked to the next coordinates, which was where we observed Derrick Willy. You all took part in the rest of the story, coming to our rescue as you did.”
Gloria stopped talking and smiled back at the smiling men, who by now felt chivalrous at saving the inspectors and the damsel in distress.
Bill said, “Gloria, I plan on going back to the cave in a day or two and I would like you to accompany us—if no one has any objections.”
Bill peered at the men and saw by the respect and admiration on their faces that she had won them over.
“Bill, I’d be honored, but unless everyone on the team is going, I can’t accept.”
The men in the room trained their eyes on Bill, waiting for his reply.
“Of course! We’re a team,” said Bill, to their relief.
As they left the conference room, Bill gently squeezed Gloria’s elbow and whispered, “Gloria, you are good.”
She smiled and whispered back, “And so are you. Do you have a plan?”
“I’ve been kicking a few things around, but after hearing your story I think I have it narrowed down. I don’t want to make a decision until I’ve talked to Derrick Willy.”
CHAPTER 26: THE PLAN
NEAR DAWN, THERE WAS A KNOCK on the door and a voice called out, “Mr. Holden, you asked to be notified when Mr. Willy was awake.”
“I’ll be there shortly.”
Entering the dispensary, Bill saw Derrick sitting up in bed taking slow spoonfuls of something that looked like mashed potatoes. Derrick looked up as Bill approached the bed.
“Hi, Boss.” Derrick directed another spoonful into his mouth.
“Derrick, how are you feeling?”
“I’m fine—but hungry. You know they fed us milk with a little grain in it.” Tears began to roll down Derrick’s cheeks. “Watching them as they fed the men was hard. I was so hungry, but had to wait my turn.”
“You’re safe now,” Bill said, to comfort the inspector.
“I’m okay now. I needed to get it out of my system. God knows I’ll never forget. Where are the other men? Tell me it wasn’t a dream.”
“Derrick, they’re at a hospital in Germany, getting the best medical care available, thanks to you. You brought them away from the cave and saved their lives…
“Was Billy Dumont in the cave?”
“Not while I was there. One of the guardians—the two boys who cared for us—said that a man was brought in one night, but he wasn’t breathing. The guardian said he was buried outside the cave.”
“Did he tell you where the grave was?”
“No, but he said it couldn’t be far. The driver who buried Billy was gone just a short time…
“I didn’t want to leave without Billy, but he wasn’t there.”
“Derrick, I understand.”
“They have a nuke in the cave, Bill—I saw it! A Chinese nuke and a Russian boat. Why would they have a Russian boat in the middle of the desert?
Derrick’s memories were tumbling out and he told Bill everything he remembered.
“We have to go back!”
“We are going back.”
* * *
At three o’clock Bill sat in the conference room looking at the people assembled before him. The men who had accompanied him into the desert two days earlier were present, as well as the two pilots and the crew chief for the UN helicopter used for transport and medical evacuation—and Gloria Caruthers.
Bill gave them a brief outline of how he proposed they get to the cave using the helicopter, then opened the floor for comments.
“I would appreciate some feedback—good, bad or indifferent.”
The first to speak was the pilot from Texas, Jerry Perry. “If we take out the four litters and put the seats back in, the aircraft will carry a max of eight passengers, in addition to me and crew chief. The problem as I see it is fuel. Without external tanks we have a maximum range of 582 kilometers, enough to get us there, but not back to Baghdad. Using the coordinates Ms. Caruthers gave me, it’s 382 kilometers to the cave as the bird flies.”
“Jerry, does the helicopter burn the same fuel as a fixed wing aircraft?” Bill asked.
“Yes, the fuel’s the same. What are you suggesting?”
“Ms. Caruthers came across a hidden fuel supply at an abandoned airfield, approximately twenty kilometers from the cave.”
“That’s fine,” said the pilot, “but I have some questions. Is it aviation fuel? How do we get it into the helicopter? And last but most important, is it contaminated?”
Bill nodded at Gloria to answer the questions. “I observed an Iraqi observation plane land and refuel from it. It’s a 5,000-liter bladder, with a hand pump, fuel hose and nozzle attached. After they fueled the Cessna they lifted off. I suppose the Iraqis wouldn’t use contaminated fuel in their aircraft.”
“Just once,” the pilot said, and the men in the room roared.
Bob raised his hand and waited for Bill to call on him. Getting a nod, he asked the question that had burned in his mind since hearing the capacity of the helicopter.
“If the bird can hold eight of us, how are the rest going to get there?”
“Good question, Robert. A team of five will go in a Land Rover. That’ll be your team.”
“Oh, jeez,” Bob replied, disappointed at not getting to fly.
“Gloria and three of the men will accompany you,” Bill said, changing Bob’s frown to a smile.
“If this expedition is going to work, we need to have that fuel at the airfield. Gloria knows the airfield’s coordinates and has volunteered to be the guide.
“I don’t need to tell you, but you’ll have the riskiest and most critical part of this undertaking. The Iraqis won’t shoot down a UN helicopter, but a lone vehicle full of UN personnel is an easier target.”
“After the bird’s fueled your job is done. It’s going to take you at least seven hours to reach the airfield by sunrise, so you’d better get some sleep. You’ll be leaving at 2200 hours.
“We’ll lift off at 0300 hours, heading toward the cave. The pilot estimates the flight time to be under two hours.”
CHAPTER 27: DEPARTURE
THE CLERICS AND DRIVERS had worked diligently for eight hours to prepare for their journey. All that was left was for the Imam of the Cave to give guidance to his friend Ehab, who would be remaining behind.
“We have everything packed. It is Allah’s will that we leave the transporters here. They are too heavy and may not be able to cross the softer sands of the desert to the south.”
“It is Allah’s will,” Ehab answered.
He gazed into the black eyes of his friend, as he had so many times before. He felt as if he were staring into a bottomless well that wanted to pull him in…and it had. Ehab was willingly under the spell of his friend and mentor.
“You will supervise the masons in sealing the great cavern. We cannot allow the remaining things to be found. When they have completed their work you will take them back to Baghdad then meet me in Mecca, where I will be waiting at the Cave of Muhammad.
“When the masons are finished, Ehab, brush away the tracks around the cave the best you can. The wind will finish the work for you.”
“What if the blue hats return?”
“If they return, use a canister to disable them, but take no chances, if success is not absolute. I had the driver who has worked with explosives set them throughout the cavern. They can destroy the cave, if necessary. He said you know how to use them.”
“Yes, he was very good and explained how to use the triggering mechanism.”
“If you are attacked but are unable to protect the cave, you will destroy it.” The Imam’s calm voice projected an authority that couldn’t be withstood.
Ehab Al-Zibri lowered his head and replied, “If it is the will of Allah.”
The Imam gently placed both hands on Ehab’s bearded cheeks and lifted his head until he could peer into his friend’s almond eyes. �
��Brother, the masons assured me they would have the chamber sealed in three days. I believe it is Allah’s will that we shall meet again near the Holy City.”
Gathering the drivers around him, the Imam asked for the blessing of Allah on their journey. He enlightened them that their trip this night would take them to Saudi Arabia.
Their destination was a small village in the Najd region on the outskirts of a town named Al Jawf, approximately 470 kilometers distance, where they would rest during the day.
The next night they would travel to Tayma and during the following nights to Medina and their final destination, Mecca.
Ten vehicles sat in front of the cave—six UN jeeps from Iraq, one from Cyprus and three civilian trucks whose cargo beds were enclosed under tan canvas tarps spread over wooden frames.
The Imam satisfied himself that the vehicles were ready and toured the caverns for the last time. Seeing that everything had been removed, with the exception of the boat and missile launcher, he reminisced briefly on the day he had been led to this cave and given the Prophecy that was driving his quest.
He walked back outside, climbed into his truck and led the convoy into the desert.
Ehab Al-Zibri watched as the caravan receded into the gloomy night, the vehicles’ taillights becoming smaller and smaller until they were snuffed out like dying stars.
Their departure left a heavy feeling on his heart as he backed into the cave and closed the doors.
CHAPTER 28: DARK ENCOUNTER
THE HELICOPTER circled above a massive hill of sand. Jerry Perry spoke into the bird’s internal communication system, “Bill, we’re above the GPS coordinates.
“Land the bird, Jerry—we’re ready,” said Bill.
The helicopter touched down within ten yards of the cave, kicking up a small dust storm. The men opened the side door, exited the aircraft and ran toward the hill.
The two men assigned to open the cave doors had difficulty seeing them at first, but recognized the façade as they approached it. Picked for their physical strength, they grasped the wooden frames and pulled in opposite directions, revealing the entrance.
Frenchy, with the shotgun at his shoulder, scurried through the cave opening, aiming the barrel to the left then to the right, following his line of vision. He inched to the right of the entrance and advanced slowly forward.
Bill sprinted into the cave behind Frenchy and hurried to the left of the doors with his M-16 at his shoulder to give cover from the other side of the cavern.
The masons had finished their labors two hours earlier and were sleeping next to their wall in the back of the first chamber when the doors to the cave opened. The sound had woken the cleric and some of the masons.
The cleric reached for a gas mask and gloves and ordered the masons to stay where they were.
He saw the dark figure of the first intruder—outlined for a moment by the patch of light behind him—enter and move to the left of the door, then the second enter and go to the right.
The cleric put on the mask and gloves and stepped cautiously toward the entrance, squinting to try to see better the angles on either side of the cavern.
Heading toward the closer of the two interlopers, who seemed to be carrying some type of weapon, he reached into his pocket and grasped the small cylinder. He aimed it at the man and quickened his pace forward to get within range
As the distance between the two narrowed, the cleric pressed the trigger on the canister and disabled the first man then slid back into the darkness and silently edged his way toward the second..
Bill called out to Frenchy, but got no response.
He could hear a quiet rustling of cloth, but the empty cave echoed the sound and gave no indication of its position or what it was.
Lawrence Paisley had jumped into the cave behind Bill and gone to the right of the entrance. He was wearing sunglasses, which turned the darkened cave into a vast abyss.
Kneeling for a moment with his eyes closed, he took off the sunglasses and stood up.
He could see Frenchy lying on the ground and noticed a twitching in one of his legs. Scanning the other side of the cavern as he scrambled away from the entrance light to go along the side wall, he could vaguely make out Bill’s shape.
The cleric reached the far wall, where the second man was approaching in his direction. The color and shape of his cowl blended with the cave’s unlighted interior, making him virtually invisible.
As the second intruder edged closer, the cleric raised the canister.
Lawrence approached Frenchy slowly, watching for anything that could have brought him down. Dropping to one knee, he grasped his colleague’s shoulder and shifted him onto his back.
The lingering residue of the nerve agent had an immediate impact when Lawrence took a breath. He became disoriented and was rocked backwards to a sitting position.
Martin Schmitt rushed through the opening, removed his sunglasses and followed the direction Bill had taken. He waited a few seconds as his eyes adjusted then crept forward.
The aerosol enveloped Bill and he dropped to the ground in extreme confusion, but without losing consciousness.
The cleric had noticed the fourth man enter the cave. On the other side of the cavern, he could make out the third intruder sitting with his head on his chest next to the first man he had sprayed.
Assuming that the agent had taken out both men, he concentrated on the new man moving in his direction.
Martin had heard something that sounded like a body hitting the ground. The darkness prevented him from seeing Bill as he collapsed, but he wasn’t fooled by the cave’s reverberation. Whoever had fallen was in front of him, making the situation very hazardous.
Lawrence shook his head to clear the remnants of cobwebs clouding his thinking. Placing his hands on the ground to steady himself, he felt the shotgun that Frenchy had dropped after receiving a full dose of the nerve agent.
He knew what they were facing—from the site visits the inspectors had made days earlier. Someone in the cave was using the nerve agent and would disable all of the inspectors if he wasn’t stopped.
He grasped the shotgun, stood up and continued into the shadows that hid the adversary.
Martin stepped slowly, moving a few paces then pausing and tilting his head to listen for any sounds. With a quick glance back toward the entrance to the cave, Martin realized the mistake they had made.
“Don’t send anyone else in—just close the doors!” he yelled in English to the men outside the cave. “Close the doors—now!”
As the cave doors closed, the faint illumination that had worked to the cleric’s advantage was lost.
The situation’s sudden change caused him to rethink his options. The first three men who had violated their work were no longer a threat—but the one in front of him...
The men remaining outside couldn’t be many or they would have rushed into the cave and overwhelmed him and the masons.
He had the agent and none of the intruders wore protective masks.
His best logic gave him the advantage.
Lawrence had heard Martin yell for their colleagues to close the cave doors, not comprehending why but observing the darkness permeate the cavern.
He stepped slowly in the general direction of Martin’s voice
Martin crept quietly, but not in the direction Bill had taken—he aimed toward the center of the cavern. He suspected that whoever was in the cave would now be operating blind, as he was, and this was the environment he had been trained for.
The cleric waited half a minute before making up his mind to head toward where he had last observed the remaining intruder.
His arm was extended with a finger on the trigger of the canister. Because his mask muffled the sound, he was unaware of the swishing of his cowl as he took his cautious steps.
Martin heard a rustling close to the spot he had vacated nearly a minute earlier and, at the same time, footsteps approaching from the opposite direction.
He immedia
tely crouched down to lower his profile and listened intently.
Lawrence, detecting the faint sounds of the cleric’s cowl coming from where Martin had yelled for the doors to be closed, whispered, “Martin, is that you?”
Recognizing Lawrence’s voice, Martin scrambled quickly to his right, which saved him from the same fate Frenchy and Bill had suffered as their assailant let out another hiss.
“It’s me—be quiet,” Martin whispered, as he bumped into his colleague.
The cleric, hearing the voice—even as it was muffled by his mask—had turned in the direction of the sound and discharged the canister. He paused for a moment then, not hearing anything, pursued the voice.
Both Lawrence and Martin had heard the faint hiss of the canister expelling its contents.
“It’s the nerve agent,” Lawrence said in a voice so quiet Martin barely understood, even with his friend’s mouth pressed against his ear.
They shuffled at a snail’s pace farther back into the cave, making as little sound as possible.
Bill sat up, having heard a voice speaking English and remembering where he was and what he had been doing when everything went fuzzy.
The déjà vu rambled in his consciousness until he realized that he had experienced the same feeling on his nightly visits around Baghdad—only this time it was stronger.
Bill got to his feet and listened to the blackness of the cave and the rustling of cloth.
The cleric knew it was just a matter of time before he brought down the last man. He was tempted to tell the masons to help in the search, but he needed them to seal the cave and the agent was too potent if they were inadvertently exposed to it. He would find the man, he was sure of that.
Martin and Lawrence edged away from the sound following them. Neither man wanted a confrontation until he knew what he faced.
As they distanced themselves from their assailant, they could hear the occasional hissing as he dispensed the agent.
Martin whispered into Lawrence’s ear, “We can’t keep running away. We have to confront him sooner or later.”
“How?”