The Saudi-Iranian War

by Ted Halstead

  I have an arrangement with three families with farms outside Nalous, all related to each other. I leave the car with them, and they return it to the rental car manager. We aren’t going past Nalous because farms closer to the border are watched much more closely by the police.”

  Grishkov shook his head. “I don’t like this. What is to stop them from turning us in to the authorities?”

  Esmail laughed. “Many things. First, they will never see you. When I pull the car off this road and onto their driveway, you will not be visible from their house. Land this far from a major city is relatively cheap, and the farm is quite large. We will be walking through one of their orchards for some time before we reach the first of several trails that will take us to the border.

  Second, they know that if they turn us in they are certain to be imprisoned as well, since any investigation of their finances will show income that cannot be explained. Finally, the same is true for the other families involved. If one is discovered, the police are sure to find out about the others as well. Greed might tempt one person to take a chance. But to risk the entire extended family? Very unlikely.”

  Grishkov nodded, and looked at Esmail thoughtfully. “My apologies. You appear to have thought this through quite carefully.”

  Esmail smiled. “It’s why I’m still alive, and many of my competitors are not. Don’t worry — I’ll get you to the border.”

  Grishkov nodded and looked at Vasilyev, who arched one eyebrow and said nothing.

  En Route from Nalous to Iran-Iraq Border

  Esmail looked over his shoulder at Vasilyev and Neda, who were following behind him. Grishkov was walking a short distance ahead, looking back every now and then as though daring Esmail to correct him. So far, Esmail had said nothing.

  After they finished walking through the farm’s apple orchards, Esmail called for a stop.

  Pointing at the trees around them, Esmail said, “We will continue walking through forest for some time, though the trees will thin as we approach the border. If you have anything to discuss do it in the next two hours, while we are still far enough from the border not to worry about patrols. After that, do not speak or make noise for the rest of our journey. If you need to stop, wave your hand at me. We will make camp at nightfall.”

  Turning to Grishkov, he said, “It’s obvious this is not your first walk in the woods. You are welcome to take the lead. Once we approach the border, though, you should let me earn my pay. There are old and new minefields along the border, and neither are marked.”

  Grishkov nodded. “Is there any wildlife we need to be concerned about?”

  Esmail shook his head. “Iran has many dangerous creatures, ranging from cobras and crocodiles to cheetah and leopards. We are far from the habitats of cobras and crocodiles, and cheetahs and leopards have been hunted to near extinction. Though we could encounter a viper or a wolf, it’s unlikely since they usually avoid people. At least, I’ve never seen either in these woods.

  The best reason to keep your eyes open is the uneven ground. It’s full of rocks and tree roots. A sprained ankle or worse for any of you will be a problem for all of us.”

  Though he was careful not to look at Neda as he said it, she answered anyway. “This isn’t my first time in the woods either. You’ll have nothing to worry about from me.”

  Esmail nodded. “Very well. We’ve been making good time so far. Let’s get back to it.”

  Once again, Vasilyev and Neda brought up the rear. Vasilyev asked quietly in English, “Have you thought about what you might do in Moscow?”

  Just as quietly, Neda answered in Russian, “I plan to teach physics.”

  Only Vasilyev’s years of experience let him keep his feet steady, and keep his astonishment from reaching his face. “I didn’t know you spoke Russian,” he said, again in Russian.

  Switching to English, Neda shrugged. “I’ve just started to learn. It’s obviously something I will have to know.”

  Vasilyev nodded. “You are right. Many Russians speak English, but most do not. It is good that you have already started to learn. I compliment you on your accent.”

  Neda smiled, the first time Vasilyev had seen her do so. “Thank you. I’ve just done some online instruction, so it’s good to have feedback from a native speaker. I was able to learn Urdu pretty quickly when I spent a year as an exchange student at the Pakistan Institute of Engineering and Applied Sciences in Islamabad, so I’m hoping to have the same luck with Russian.”

  Then her smile faded. “But let’s be serious. You’re not really interested in my plans in Russia. You want to know whether I’m going to tell your General all that I know.”

  Vasilyev shrugged. “I am actually interested in your plans. One of America’s great strengths is its willingness to welcome outsiders, and I have often thought Russia could learn from their success. As someone with an advanced degree in physics, I have no doubt you will make important contributions.”

  Now Neda’s smile was back, but she shook her head. “Really? It’s not as though there aren’t plenty of other physicists in Russia.”

  Vasilyev smiled back. “Perhaps. There were plenty of them in the United States in the early 1940s. Do you know how many of the two dozen scientists on the team that created the first atomic bomb were born in America?”

  Neda shook her head.

  Vasilyev said, “Two. And one of those two obtained his degree outside the US. I think the lesson is clear. Any nation, no matter how great, can always use some help.”

  Neda looked at Vasilyev with new respect. “I believe you are sincere. I will tell you frankly that Russia was not my first choice. Hearing from you, though, I’m starting to think it was not a bad one.”

  Neda paused. “I will tell you this much. When I see your General in Syria, I will tell him absolutely everything I know, instead of waiting until I arrive in Moscow. Until then, I will not say another word. I threw away everything I had to leave Iran, and my last reason for staying disappeared when I found out my husband was a monster willing to kill thousands of innocent people. I want to save those people, and I’ve told Alina as much as I did already to give you a chance to stop their deaths. But I also want to stay alive myself.”

  Vasilyev said quietly, “Even if you told me everything right now, I would still do all I could to get you to Moscow alive.”

  Neda’s smile now was real, but bitter. “I believe you and the other Russian would as a matter of honor. But there is honor, and then there is duty.

  Keeping me alive because I still know something your country needs is about professionalism, and your obligations as a servant of the Russian state. I think you will try harder and sacrifice more to keep me alive if that is your motivation.”

  Vasilyev nodded. “I think you will fit in very well in Russia.”

  Esmail held up his hand, now barely visible in the gathering shadows.

  Vasilyev, Neda and Grishkov quickly gathered around him and they all began to unpack their food and sleeping bags. Esmail pointed to a fallen log nearby, and sat down. They all followed his example, and began to open their food packets.

  The temperature was plummeting, and Vasilyev wondered idly whether chattering teeth would affect his ability to eat. Grishkov, with far more recent outdoor experience, knew the answer was that hunger overcame all obstacles to food reaching a stomach.

  With a flourish, Esmail produced something that looked like a bulky lantern. Vasilyev was about to object when Esmail shook his head and whispered, “It produces very little light.”

  It took him several tries, but Esmail was finally able to light the device, which as promised produced only a faint red glow. He nevertheless surrounded it with a thin sheet of flexible metal, which blocked the dim light in every direction but straight towards them. To everyone’s astonishment except Esmail, the small clearing began to warm rapidly.

  “It contains a small propane bottle,” Esmail whispered. “Not enough fuel to last for long, but we will eat and go to our bags warm
. Helps for a better night’s sleep.”

  The rest all nodded, and fell to their food with a will. After they had finished eating, Neda was the first to head for her sleeping bag. Vasilyev nodded at Grishkov, and said, “I will take the first watch.” Grishkov shrugged, and unrolled his bag as well. Turning off the heater, Esmail whispered, “Time to answer nature’s call,” and walked towards the nearby bushes, where he was quickly out of sight.

  Grishkov had just slipped into his sleeping bag. Once Esmail left, he slipped out of it and just as quickly moved silently in the same direction.

  Vasilyev was becoming concerned about their absence when Grishkov walked back into the small clearing, and tossed him a small black device.

  Vasilyev caught it with a frown, and looked at it closely.

  As Grishkov sat next to him, Vasilyev commented quietly, “It looks like a cell phone, but the name on the front is a company that I thought only made GPS devices. I see you took the precaution of removing the battery.”

  Grishkov nodded, and responded in an equally low voice. “I am familiar with these because we had a grand total of one for the entire Vladivostok police department. It is a satellite radio handset, but you cannot use it to make calls. It can only send text messages. As you would expect from a company that mostly makes GPS devices, it can also tell you where you are located.”

  Vasilyev smiled. “Let me guess. This is what our guide went to retrieve.

  Once he had done so, you retrieved it from him before he had a chance to use it. And he will not be returning to our little camp.”

  Grishkov shrugged.

  Vasilyev nodded. “I know we have no tools to bury a body. Were you able to conceal it well enough to give us time for our escape?”

  Grishkov frowned. “From people, yes. From local scavengers and buzzards, I’m not so sure. We must also remember that the train guard’s body may be discovered at any time. Any competent policeman will check his last route and see that it pointed straight at the border.”

  Vasilyev nodded. “We must be ready to move at first light.”

  Grishkov glanced towards Neda’s sleeping bag. “And we will have to pick up the pace. We need to be ready to cross the border soon if we are to have any real chance.” He paused and said, “I will stand watch now. You may as well go to your bag, since I won’t be able to sleep.”

  Nodding his understanding, Vasilyev quickly squeezed Grishkov’s right shoulder as he moved to his sleeping bag, and then turned.

  “Just one thing. Each of us must have gone into the bushes a half dozen times on this hike. Why did you follow him tonight?”

  Grishkov shrugged. “This was the first time he announced it.”

  Neda woke as the first rays of light penetrated through the surrounding trees into the small clearing. Like all of them, she had slept with her clothes on. She lifted herself to a sitting position, still in the sleeping bag, and saw that both Vasilyev and Grishkov were sitting on the fallen log and eating.

  When they saw she was awake they nodded in her direction, but said nothing.

  She nodded back, and slowly extricated herself from the sleeping bag.

  Neda walked to the log and sat next to Vasilyev, who handed her a food packet, saying in a low voice, “The last one.” She nodded her thanks, and quickly ate it. Once she had finished, she looked around and quietly asked with a frown, “Where is our guide?”

  Neither Vasilyev or Grishkov had any readable expression. Vasilyev answered carefully, “He decided he’d gone far enough and turned back. We have a map that will show us the rest of the way.”

  Neda shook her head and said something low in Farsi that Vasilyev barely caught, but he knew translated roughly in English to “in a pig’s eye.”

  With a different animal, of course.

  Neda continued, “You killed him.”

  Grishkov nodded.

  Neda glared at Vasilyev and said in a fierce whisper, “I’m not a weakling or a child. I never trusted that man. Did he betray us?”

  Grishkov shrugged. “He tried to. Even though I hid it, his body still might,” pointing upward at a buzzard circling lazily high above them.

  Vasilyev looked upwards and bit back an oath. “How can it possibly know so quickly?”

  Grishkov nodded. “Yes, I wondered the same thing in Chechnya. I’m sure the scientists have an explanation. I and the other troops there simply believed they had made an agreement with the devil.”

  Neda shivered, only partly from the cold. “Do we still have a chance?”

  Grishkov smiled. “Absolutely. There’s no way the border guards here have enough men to follow up on every buzzard sighting. They’ll only bother looking if they’re near here anyway. Plus, we’re still kilometers away from the border. But, it does mean we’ll need to move faster.”

  Neda nodded. “I’m ready. How far do we have to go?”

  Grishkov frowned. “I think we can be ready to go for our final push by tonight. When night falls we’ll get a few hours of rest, and then cross the border in the hour just before dawn. There is enough light from the moon to see if we move carefully, and the border guards should be at their least alert.

  Many will be asleep, and the vigilance of the night watch will be fading.”

  “What about mines?” Neda whispered.

  Grishkov grinned. “You’re lucky to be with a soldier who’s seen plenty of them, and actually had to plant some. There’s ground where they’re easy to plant, and other terrain where it’s difficult or impossible without special equipment. I have looked closely at a geological chart of the border area, and I know exactly where to cross.”

  Vasilyev nodded approvingly. “Excellent. Now, I think we should be off.”

  With that, Vasilyev and Neda quickly followed Grishkov’s example, discarding all upper clothing except their cotton shirts, and donning the new Ratnik 3 ballistic vests placed in the bottom of their packs at Grishkov’s request. He hadn’t been sure Alina would be able to find one small enough to fit Neda, but as she strapped hers on was pleased to see Alina had been successful. Thanks to the use of boron carbide in the vest’s armor ceramics, it provided better protection than the vest Grishkov had used in Chechnya, and yet was about thirty percent lighter.

  Grishkov had already hidden Esmail’s belongings, including the heater.

  They would have to bear with the cold at night for the rest of their hike. He hurriedly put their now empty packs in the same hiding spot.

  Grishkov took the lead for this last stage of their march, with Vasilyev and Neda close behind. As the hours passed the temperature once again rose. By the time they stopped at midday to rest, the thinning of the forest had become more noticeable. The chirping of birds, which had been the only sound other than their own footfalls, nearly ceased.

  On the one hand, there were far fewer tree roots to avoid. On the other, the rocks were growing larger and more plentiful.

  By late afternoon the trees had dwindled further in both number and size, to be replaced by rock and brush. Fortunately, the brush was high enough to provide good cover.

  Finally, night fell just as they reached the area Grishkov had picked to rest at before they made their pre-dawn crossing. So far, they had not seen or heard any hint that there were any other people nearby, let alone border guards. Yes, Grishkov thought to himself, we just might make it after all.

  No sooner had Grishkov had the thought than a dull “pop” was followed by the brilliant illumination of an area about a kilometer away. The light lasted less than a minute, and then suddenly went out. Before it did, a machine gun chattered briefly, and was then silent.

  “What was that?” Neda whispered fiercely.

  “An 82 mm illumination mortar round, or something very much like it. The color of its light looks exactly like what we used in Chechnya, so I’d bet it’s one of ours that we sold to the Iranian Army,” Grishkov responded.

  At the same time he chastised himself for his earlier optimistic thought. He might as well h
ave issued the illumination round an engraved invitation, he thought morosely.

  “So, what now?” came in another angry whisper from Neda.

  No, not really angry, thought Grishkov. Frightened. He didn’t blame her, since he was a bit worried himself.

  Grishkov answered in a low voice. “We wait and rest, just as we planned.

  They’re at least a kilometer away. We’ve still got a good chance, as long as we keep our heads.”

  Finally, Neda nodded and sat down on the ground with her back against a large rock. She found that while the air had quickly cooled, the rock’s surface still retained some of the day’s warmth. Well, she thought to herself, at least God is showing me some mercy. She pressed her back harder against the smooth rock, and tried not to think about the border guards.

  The night seemed to stretch on forever, but finally Grishkov made a hand gesture with an unmistakable meaning. Forward.

  Hunched over as Grishkov had instructed, they crossed single file over rocky ground leading to a grass-covered hill. Grishkov’s reading of his map told him that the base of the hill was the border with Iraq. They had been promised a helicopter pickup on the other side of the hill, where they would be safe from observation by troops on the Iranian side of the border.

  Grishkov was elated as rock gave way to grass, and had just thought “We made it!” when he heard a “pop” that was much closer and louder than the last one. It was quickly followed by brilliant light, and an impact in his back that felt as though a giant was pushing him face-first into the grass. Only then did he hear the chatter of the machine gun.

  It took several seconds before Grishkov could turn his head far enough to see that Vasilyev and Neda were also flat on their stomachs, but he couldn’t tell whether they had also been hit or were just seeking cover. A quick look around confirmed his first impression. Aside from hugging the ground, there was no cover. In the dying light of the illumination round suspended from its parachute, Grishkov could see the Iranian border guards moving forward.

  The only question left was whether they had been ordered to shoot them on the spot, or bring them back for questioning.