by Eric Meyer
"She doesn't carry any markings on the wings or tail plane," I pointed out.
He gave me an old-fashioned look. "No, she doesn't, does she? I never got around to painting those on."
The airport was an odd mix of modern and old, shabby concrete structures mixed with a newer, architect-designed terminal. Whatever bribe Turner paid the security guards was sufficient for us to bypass the arrivals gate. We'd brought our weapons along in large suitcases. If someone had asked us to open them, there may have been a problem. But as this was Egypt in the middle of what was almost a civil war, what were a few more assault rifles in a land of such plenty? At Luxor, just as everywhere else inside Egypt, officials were well aware it was a time when fortunes would be made. Money talked, rules walked.
We waited while Turner disappeared for short time to make a call on his cell, and he returned with a smile on his face.
"We've got him. He'll be coming through the city about midday. His business interests are outside the town, a few miles to the east, so he'll have to cross the Nile to get there. The bridge he'll need to use is a choke point, and vehicles have to go slow to get across because it's so narrow. I'd say that's the place to take him."
Winter Moss nodded eagerly. "It sounds good to me. You will stay here and wait to take us back to Aswan? We may need to get out fast after we hit him."
I hated her making arrangement for us, but it wasn't the time for a big row, so I let her continue. It was a fair question. We all wanted to get out once the job was done.
"I'll be here," he replied, "I got nowhere else to go, and besides, I need to catch up on some drinking."
"You can always come with us," she suggested, "Keep you sober."
His eyes widened. "You must be joking. I live dangerously enough as it is flying that Russian piece of junk. Anyway, booze is all that keeps me going in this crazy country."
I stared at him. "I thought you said it was a damned good aircraft."
He grinned. "The first rule of flying. Always keep the passengers happy."
Turner had identified Khan’s vehicle, a black Mercedes, and arranged for us to borrow a vehicle. It was a battered old Lada Niva four-wheel drive, probably a relic from the days when the Soviets were a major arms supplier to Egypt. It was covered in dirt, and the tires were almost bald of any rubber, but at least the engine started and ran quite well. Manuel took the wheel, muttering curses under his breath that he was forced to drive such a piece of junk, and headed out for the road that led to the Nile Bridge.
Both 'girls' complained constantly during the journey. Winter was bitter at being forced to sit on the rear seats that were covered in dirt and oil. Isra still wore a dress that was liable to be messed up pretty bad. In the end, he shrugged back into his black robe and fastened his veil in order to keep clean, and he sat in silent misery.
Niall and I rechecked and reloaded the weapons. I tucked the Ruger into my belt and the Sig Sauer .22 into a shoulder holster under my coat. Not that I thought the job would require an assassin's weapon. Halting a vehicle on a road bridge would need us to swing the old Lada across the road in order to slow Khan's vehicle. As soon as it stopped, we'd open fire with the M-16s and kill everyone inside. That at least was the theory. It was noisy and about as subtle as shooting a pigeon with an RPG, but it usually worked. Shock and awe, they call it, the military flavor of the month. We called it kicking the bastard in the balls real hard, so he didn't stand a chance of getting back up. Same thing. Whatever you called it, it was a good plan. Except that this time, the Egyptian Army had other ideas.
As we neared the bridge, Isra stared ahead with interest.
"I can see soldiers. The Army has a checkpoint. They're stopping all vehicles entering and leaving Luxor. If you try and to take Khan here, they'll be all over you."
I took out my compact binoculars and stared ahead. I cursed myself for not checking before. At the other end of the bridge, I could see a barrier and a small guard hut. There were two soldiers lounging against the side of the barrier, and I had little doubt there'd be more in the vicinity. Fuck it! It meant we'd have to take Khan somewhere else. It was getting messy, very messy, and we hadn't even started.
"Niall, we need to stash the weapons. We're about to get a vehicle check."
We passed the assault rifles to the back, and they hid them under a blanket in the trunk. Manuel slowed, came to a stop, and we waited for the soldiers to walk over to us. There was never any question of inspecting documents or any kind of a search. They were looking for Muslim Brotherhood. Besides, these checkpoints work the same all over the Muslim world. Soldiers were poorly paid, and at irregular intervals. So they set up these checkpoints to redress the balance, a kind of direct tax on the locals. A pity, because done properly it could have controlled some of the terrorist activity, as well as the smuggling. They say you pay peanuts and you get monkeys. These monkeys were armed with Kalashnikov assault rifles.
In the event, the stop was smooth and easy. Manuel handed over twenty dollars, enough for us to get a wave-through, and we drove on. The road was straight, with no turn offs, and he finally halted at the side of an abandoned gas station. It was time to take a fresh look at the plan.
“We could always pull alongside him and shoot up his vehicle,” Manuel offered.
“And if his Mercedes is armored, the driver will speed away and leave us trailing in his dust,” I pointed out, “We need to stop him.”
“I’ll stop him,” Winter offered.
I viewed her with suspicion. “How? Get your CIA pals to call in a drone strike?”
“Very fucking funny. No, I’ll do it in the time honored way. We’ll set up a damsel in distress scenario. Our vehicle parked next to this gas station, we standing next to it looking helpless. He’ll fall for it.”
Isra muttered something that sounded like, ‘He’d be fool if he did’, but we ignored him. Winter was right, although I hated to agree with her. She was beautiful, and she knew it. She used her beauty as a weapon, the way a boxer would use his fists. And her looks sure packed a mighty powerful punch. Ghani Khan would stop. We all knew that. Isra was wrong. We set the scene; the Lada pulled over to the side of the road, hood raised like it was broken down. Winter got ready, hitching up her skirt to make it shorter and exposing enough thigh to send any red blooded Muslim into an immediate orgasm. Then we waited.
The highway was quiet and just the occasional car passed us, most heading in toward Luxor. The gas station was in a state of total collapse, much of the building removed by scavengers, probably to build or repair their hovels. There was one gas pump, most of its parts removed so it stood like a rusting monolith to better days. Isra went inside the building, refusing to remove the veil.
"I don't want to make my dress any filthier than it is already."
Manuel and Niall crossed the road and ducked into a shallow drainage ditch at the side. I crouched down behind the Lada, out of sight of the road. We had a simple plan. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Winter would attempt to entice Khan into the open. Everything depended upon them being unable to drive off at speed, so Manuel and Niall would take care of shooting up the Mercedes, to cripple it and bring it to a halt if things went wrong. They were the blunt instrument, and I was the sharp end. If everything went right, I'd pop Khan the moment I had a clear shot.
It wasn't the time for subtlety. My intention was to use the M-16 A4 and fill him full of holes, together with the bodyguard and driver if they tried to interfere, which they sure would. I sat with my back to the Lada, surveying the surrounding desolation. There was a light wind blowing, and the air was clear and cool. A metal sign swung in the gentle breeze, making a slight creaking sound. In the distance, I could hear the chatter of rotors as helos patrolled several miles away. Further up in the clear blue sky, I could see contrails, four single-engine fighters, maybe F-16s on some cross-country mission. I heard the sound of an engine and darted a quick glance along the road from Luxor, but it was just a truck. It roared past and disappeared
into the desert heat haze. The silence returned.
I was concerned about Niall. He'd been stricken with conscience after the brief action outside the mosque in Aswan. It was obvious the requirements of the operation and the meaning of his vocation tore into him. That was fine, provided he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger when it counted. So far he'd been okay, but there was still time. And there was nothing I could do about it, except hope he didn't shy away at a critical moment.
"I hear vehicles!"
Winter's warning made us all stare in the direction of Luxor. Vehicles, she'd said, more than one. That could be a problem. They first appeared as small dots in the haze, and then they materialized out of the shimmering heat. When they were visible, I counted three Mercedes, all of them black. They drew nearer, and it was clear the vehicle in the center was lower on the springs than the ones at the front and back. It meant it was armored, and we had nothing to penetrate armor. Everything depended on Winter's feminine wiles. She hitched up her skirt, stood at the side of the road, and began to wave. It was a masterful performance, the pretty, helpless female, irresistible to any man with an eye for a good-looking woman. It worked. The Mercedes convoy began to slow, and then they pulled up a few yards before her.
The passenger door on the leading vehicle opened, and a huge, muscle-bound Arab stepped out. He'd be one of the bodyguards. I could hear the conversation. Winter was speaking English, making gestures to indicate she didn't understand the bodyguard's Arabic. It was a good ploy. We knew from intel that Khan spoke fluent English. All it required was for him to step out of his limo to interpret. We all waited, watching the show play out, and then the smoked window of the center of vehicle slid down. Ghani Khan glanced out. I felt a powerful emotion of hate. This was a man who'd killed my fellow countrymen in Afghanistan without remorse, without even any purpose, and then desecrated the bodies.
"Can I help you?"
Her shoulders slumped in simulated relief. "Oh, my God, you speak English. That is fantastic," she gushed, "My vehicle broke down. I think it may be out of gas."
He didn't answer at first. He glanced around the vicinity, taking in her vehicle, the abandoned gas station, and then beyond, staring at the distant landscape. He was suspicious. After all, he was in a dangerous line of work. He didn't see anything that alarmed him, and he looked back at Winter.
"I can give you a lift to the next town if you wish."
"That would be very kind. Say, could you have a quick look at it? Maybe it's something simple. Perhaps you can help me start the engine."
Again that look; his internal radar, the sixth sense that had kept him alive for so long, was working overtime. He pondered for a moment and then gave her a sad glance.
"I'm sorry. I'm late for an appointment. I'll get my men to send a breakdown truck."
He hadn't fallen for it. There was no town further along this road, only a few isolated farms and his place. Winter saw it too. Her hand dived into her purse where she had her Mini Glock hidden. She was about a second too late. Khan was already winding up the window and the cars were moving. She hesitated for a moment, and I prayed she wouldn't pull the gun, and that the two men across the road would hold their fire.
Trying to stop an armored limo with 5.56mm rounds would be like throwing rocks at an M1 Abrams, a total waste of time. And besides, right now he was only suspicious. There was no need to confirm his suspicions. I already had an idea of how to handle this. The limos were out of sight, and I came out from hiding.
"Good try, but he wasn't buying it. Maybe he's gay?"
"You think? You didn't see what I saw. He had a couple of bimbos next to him on the back seat. I had nothing to offer him he didn't already have. So now we've lost him."
I grinned at her anger. "Better luck next time."
She pulled a face and started to readjust her skirt. I called for Manuel and Niall to rejoin us. Isra was already coming back. He'd pulled off his veil and tidied his makeup, so he looked like a Times Square hooker. It crossed my mind that Khan probably preferred the cheap, trashy look, and maybe Isra would have been a better choice to entice him out of the car. Maybe not.
Winter looked at me. "What now?"
"We need to follow him."
"You're joking! This is just a desert track. He'd see us coming from miles away. "
I shook my head. "We won't be doing the following."
I had Turner's number in my cell, and I prayed we weren't out of range of the nearest tower. But this close to Luxor, I thought we'd be okay, and I was right.
"Turner."
"We need your plane. The Cessna."
"The hell you do. What for?"
I explained about the convoy. "He's heading away from us into the desert. We missed him. We have to know where he's going. It's a job for an aircraft. Your aircraft."
He agreed to get airborne inside of ten minutes. He was as good as his word, and we saw the Cessna fly past us, several thousand feet up in the sky so as not to alert the target. He disappeared from sight, and we prepared the Lada to drive on the moment he returned with the location. It took thirty minutes before we heard the buzz of the engine. The arrangement was he'd fly low and call me on his cellphone, but he'd had a change of plan. The Cessna turned into wind and dropped in for a neat landing on the track. He taxied toward us, stopped the engine, and climbed down.
"It's a farm in the foothills, about twenty miles from here."
"Why did you land?"
"I'll have to fly you in. There's a strip right next to the house. His place is protected like a fortress. You'll never make it. There's a steel barrier across the entrance, protected by armed guards, and the main building is out of sight of the road. He has the place surrounded by barbed wire, so I reckon the only way in is to land close to his place, storm in, and kill him."
I closed my eyes and thought about it for moment; a fortified compound with an unknown number of armed guards, heavily armed guards. And Turner wanted us to drop in like a social visit, before we located Khan and put a couple of extra holes in his head.
I shook my head. "It won't work. An unexpected aircraft landing on his property will bring out a score of his men, and they'll blast your pretty aircraft to matchwood."
He stared at me, a half smile on his face. "But it won't be unexpected. A friend of mine at the airport has a cousin in air traffic control. A light aircraft is en route for Khan's place from Quetta in Pakistan. They didn't need landing clearance, obviously. But they had to route along the air lanes, so they filed a flight plan. I paid this guy, and he's going to bring the aircraft down at Luxor International because of a security alert. So our friend will be expecting an aircraft to land."
I nodded slowly. It could work, it just could. This kind of operation required an approach that was devious, designed to hoodwink the enemy. So when he was looking the other way, you stuck the knife in his back. It was deceitful, down and dirty. It was the way of the assassin, the way of the Hunter Killer. I looked at Manuel and Niall, and they both gave a slight nod. It could work.
"We'll go for it."
"The fuck we will," Winter spat, the Hornet Lady, "It's a stupid idea. We fly in there, and we get ourselves killed."
I smiled. "No problem. I was going to ask Isra to stay with the vehicle, so the two of you can keep each other company."
Her face fell. "The hell you say, Mister. If you think I'm staying here with that weirdo, you can think again. I'm coming with you."
Isra whined about how dangerous it would be to leave a 'girl' all on her lonesome out in the country. There was only one way to deal with that kind of shit. I ignored both of them. Women!
In the end, I had a task for Isra. We needed the vehicle as close to Khan's compound as possible, in case we had problems getting out in the aircraft. He was the only candidate, and he finally agreed with a great show of reluctance. We crammed into the Cessna, and Turner started the engine. I sat up front, the other three were in back. I could see a canvas holdall at my feet, and I asked T
urner about it. He grinned.
"When you called, I thought there was a possibility I'd need to get close to the action. So I brought something to even up the odds. Take a look."
I picked up the bag and opened it. Grenades. At least a dozen of them, M67s, American issue fragmentation grenades. I didn't ask him where he'd got them. Still, a grenade is a grenade, and they all speak the same language. Turner throttled up, let off the brakes, and we picked up speed along the bumpy track. Within a few hundred yards, we were airborne.
* * *
Over Luxor, Egypt
Less than ten minutes later, we overflew Ghani Khan's compound. A large part of it was given over to growing cannabis plants, a sea of spiky green foliage. We could see where the track branched off and an even narrower roadway that ended at his perimeter fence, with armed guards on station. The main house came into view, a two-story mansion, large enough for about ten bedrooms. Our target was doing well. A pity it was all about to end.
Turner dropped in for a landing, and a guard on the roof waved, obviously expecting us. I waved back, and then turned to Niall.
"Make him a priority target. He could cause us some grief." Then I passed out two grenades apiece. "Compliments of Major Turner, they'll probably come in useful."
Winter raised her eyebrows, so I passed a grenade to her. Women do hate to be left out when you're dividing up the goodies. Then I glanced at Turner. "Where will you wait?"
"I'll find somewhere where I can keep the aircraft out of sight of the main house. If she gets damaged, our ticket out of here is gone." As he spoke, the Cessna was still taxiing along the hard earth of the strip, heading for the main house, "I'll get you as near as I can, but then it's all up to you guys."
"Roger that. Just be waiting when we come out."
So far, they hadn't noticed the aircraft was not the one they were expecting. It wasn't a huge surprise. To many people, one light aircraft looks much the same as another. Turner brought the plane to a stop, and we leapt out through the door. An armed man was watching us a few yards away, and he flipped us a casual wave, still not aware anything wrong. It was too good an opportunity to miss. I snatched out my Sig Sauer .22 and hit him with a double tap. He went down without a sound, and we ran past the body and through the door that led into the house. A man was in the passage. He looked around, a cook carrying a tray of coffee. I fired a single shot that smacked into his head, and as we ran past, Niall grabbed the tray to stop it crashing to the floor.
