“I hate to interrupt the lovebirds,” Wally said. “But maybe we should make like a tree and get the fuck out of here.”
“Agreed,” Nate said, helping Ana to her feet.
“Wait a minute. Look at this,” Shane said. He had been searching the dead men. “A fellow sapper.”
Shane held up a suicide vest that one of the men had been wearingon his person. It was a simple black vest with several blocks of what Ana assumed was some type of plastic explosive attached to it. She couldn’t believe that one of the men had been wearing it. Perhaps that was why he had wanted to go first, she thought absently. It didn’t matter now, because Nate and the guys had stopped it. The only danger now was from the explosives themselves.
“Is it safe?” Ana asked.
“Oh yeah. Pretty simple design,” Shane replied. “Explosives could come in handy, though.” He appeared to pull out a few wires, then slung the vest over his shoulder.
“Sooner than we think if we don’t get the hell out of here,” Tim added. “Someone will have heard those shots. We gotta move.”
They all hopped in the one working truck, cramming themselves into the extended cab. Tim drove while Wally set about treating Nate and Shane for their injuries. He addressed several cuts and bruises and checked for more serious injuries, fortunately not finding any. Both men were severely dehydrated, and Ana marveled at Wally’s ability to start an IV drip on them as the truck jostled through the desert. For her part, Tim had asked Ana to ride shotgun.
“Alright, sister, I need you to play spotter. Keep an eye out in front for any obstructions, and an eye out behind for anyone following us. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Maybe it was having a sense of purpose, or being able to actively help the team, but as the sun rose, so did her mood. They had escaped the clutches of the Al Qaeda camp and were back together, heading toward their final goal. For the first time, Ana felt like things might be going their way.
Novikov surveyed the area. Something was amiss. To be more precise, something else was amiss. The amateur-style ambush that had been laid in place for his team was not supposed to happen; however, it was not entirely unexpected. His men had discovered it before they walked into the area through the use of night vision devices equipped with thermal imaging and had systematically gone about exterminating the terrorists’ exterior perimeter guard before converging on the camp itself.
It was a fairly simple matter. The Arabs were not well trained, and they all lacked discipline. As a professional soldier it disgusted him to see such laziness, and it was only fair that it cost them their pathetic lives. His men snuck up on each position and put a silenced round into each of the terrorists, one by one.
It was not surprising that Omar had sought to betray him. Novikov would have done the same, were he in his shoes. He could not hold a grudge against the man for that, nor did he. It was simply business. However, he could not forgive the shoddy security situation of the camp or the lack of discipline in the troops Omar commanded.
But what they found in the camp was bizarre. It was almost sunrise, and most of the terrorists were asleep. There were a few men passed out around a smoldering fire, probably from the aftereffects of getting stoned off khat. The same would be true of the men in the tents. That was also normal and to be expected.
The strange part was the three bodies stacked in a ditch outside the camp, all killed by knife wounds. In the center of the camp was a metal pole with restraints that had clearly been cut, and it was evident what had occurred. Wilde’s friends had staged a rescue attempt, and a successful one at that. While Novikov had sworn not to underestimate the man again, hehadoverestimated the terrorists. He was correct in assuming they were incompetent, but the level of incompetency was astounding.
What he needed now was information, and he had his men round up the survivors for questioning. He shot one man outright as a demonstration of his resolve before questioning the rest, and they were very forthcoming. They had captured two men whom they were meant to hand over. They were not planning to betray Novikov, but were prepared to do so if he had made the first move. They had slept through the night and only now noticed that the captives were gone.
More importantly, they positively identified Omar as one of the men in the ditch. The camp was a dead end, which suited him fine. He would eliminate Wilde and his team himself, and do it right this time. All he needed was a starting point. He knew the men had been here last night, so they couldn’t have traveled too far.
As if in response, rifle rounds cracked off in the distance, several miles to the north from the direction of the village of Al Kharkhir. He couldn’t know for sure if it was his quarry, but it was a good bet. He gave the word, and his men executed the remaining terrorists, gunning them down as they knelt in the center of the camp. Novikov’s team was battle hardened, and this was hardly their first massacre. When it was finished, they started the long walk back to their vehicles, which they had left several miles away. Wilde and his friends were within his reach and would soon be dead.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Nate spent the morning in the back seat, plotting their course as he was jostled up and down by the rough terrain. It was slow going as they were once again navigating sand dunes. They were also much farther west than expected and were paralleling the ancient camel trails rather than driving directly over them. Tim had recovered Nate’s laptop from the wreckage of the truck, but unfortunately it was now worthless, having been sufficiently smashed in the vehicle rollover. Luckily, Nate had made hard copies and was now able to use them in conjunction with the maps he had prepared to chart their new route, which he scrawled in his journal. Once he finished, he plugged the waypoints into his GPS, verified their direction with his Cammenga Tritium military-issue lensatic compass, and they were back on track.
Coming in farther to the west meant they were going to be following a path similar to the one taken by St. John Philby in 1932. It also meant they had roughly two hundred miles of open desert to travel across over terrain they had not anticipated. However, Nate was able to align their route with the underground water tables. Had the riversbeen aboveground as they had been thousands of years ago it would have been much easier, but Nate trusted in the hydrology report and his course plotting that the hidden lifeblood was deep underneath them as they headed north. He used the east-west-running camel trail that broke off from the main trails and headed toward the Wabar craters as a backstop. If they crossed the line of latitude that was characterized by that part of the trail, then he would know they had traveled too far north. Plus, he took it as a good sign that they were now literally following in the footsteps of the famous explorer who had hoped that future generations would build upon his efforts in the search for the lost city of Ubar.
After putting some distance between themselves and Al Kharkhir, the group stopped briefly to inventory what remained of their gear. There was probably enough water, not much food, and hopefully enough fuel to get to where they were going, but not back. They had several AKs and two Mosin-Nagant rifles left, with a healthy complement of ammunition for each. Wally took over driving and Tim rode in the bed as he set about cleaning the weapons and ensuring that they were once again in working order. After recent events, the former weapons sergeant wasn’t taking any chances. Equally important, they still had both drones they had brought along that would allow them an aerial view of the terrain, which would be key in their survey of Al Hadidah.
Shane appeared to be recovering well, proving that he did in fact have a hard head that could withstand multiple blows with no permanent damage. He was in good spirits and hadn’t thrown up yet, which Wally took to be a good sign. The former medic had him on concussion protocol, which meant he wasn’t allowed to sleep, much to Shane’s annoyance.
Ana helped out wherever she could. She watched out for dangerous terrain, helped keep Shane awake, and peeked over Nate’s shoulder ashe worked. She even dug around and handed out food for everyone to eat, a necessity they had all forgotten about as they became wrapped up in their individual tasks.
Nate updated them as he worked, explaining the route and why he was changing it. Not that he needed to. They all trusted him, if not for his scholarly knowledge then for the fact that he was a Green Beret who had proven his skills at land navigation time and again. At their current rate they were averaging about ten miles an hour, and he estimated they would be at the site by nightfall. They would have to make camp, and in the morning they could use the drones to search the landscape.
There was a thumping on the roof and Nate turned to see Tim in the bed frantically pounding his fist on the top of the cab. He slid open the back window and Tim’s face appeared, his red hair blowing wildly in the wind.
“We’ve got company!” he yelled. Nate nodded and leaned toward the front seat.
“We’ve got company,” Nate repeated to Wally. “Let’s get to a vantage point and hold up for a minute. Wally did as instructed, and they paused on the crest of the next dune and all dismounted, thankful for the opportunity to stretch their legs.
“Out there.” Tim pointed back the way they had come.
