Run With The Brave

by Run

  The growl of diesel engines increased together with the sound of wheels splashing across shallow water and then the shuddering of the ground, before the growl engulfed everything as the first truck sped past only yards away.

  Then, the hiss of air brakes; the screech of tortured metal and the convoy abruptly came to a halt, the third truck stopping alongside where they hid. The throb of idling engines filled the air.

  Ryder’s adrenaline surged.

  The next thing: slamming of doors, tailboards dropping and boots hitting the ground. He prayed dogs were not on board.

  Ryder released his pistol safety-catch, gripped the handle ready and listened to the banter of many soldiers moving towards the edge of the gully. If he was about to die he would take as many with him as possible. He waited, expecting discovery at any moment. Then, suddenly, streams of urine hit the bush, percolating down through the dense foliage, trickling over his back; he waited for shit but it never came. Banter and diesels drowned out everything else. The flow of urine gradually stopped. The soldiers drifted back to the trucks and clambered in. Doors slammed, diesels revved and the convoy got underway, to Ryder’s relief.

  When the vehicles were well away they emerged from hiding and shook themselves down, cursing. None, thankfully, had suffered much of a drenching from the thirty or so men relieving themselves over the edge of the gully. Luckily the fatigues they wore were waterproof and the urine had run off.

  “Thank Christ they only pissed on us; could’ve been worse,” said Kellar, checking his rifle. “Any closer and we’d be goners. Could almost taste what they had for fucking breakfast – you hear what they were banging on about?”

  “Something about a place called Abbasabad,” Sicano replied.

  The two Israelis exchanged glances.

  Shiron spoke, “It’s a village on the west flank of the mountain we’re checking out. Small army garrison supposed to be stationed there. If a missile base exists, the land around could be patrolled. I guess the garrison is most likely used for that.”

  If the Israeli was right that could make the search much more difficult and risky. Ryder hoped the Israeli was wrong.

  “It’ll be a lot bigger once those trucks arrive – if that’s the destination,” Kellar voiced, and then, as if as an afterthought, “At least, in some ways, it’s a sign we may not be wasting our time after all,” he finished, forcing a grin.

  Sicano looked at the Israelis, “If those trucks are going to that town, it tells me they know we’re coming.”

  “You mean the note Frank found?” shot Shiron.

  “Yeah, and whatever else; reinforcements like that crawling everywhere would make it virtually impossible to penetrate any base we may find in that mountain.” Sicano threw sharp glances at the others and spat, “More so, with a killer loose.”

  “He’s right, Frank,” backed Kellar. “Maybe we should abort?”

  Ryder had to admit he was having serious doubts himself after the Iranian’s murder and now the practicalities of getting into a base should they find one with a killer still loose; the Americans did have a point. He turned to Shiron and asked in a curt voice, “Do you agree with that, Sergeant?”

  The Israeli didn’t hesitate, replying coldly, “We didn’t come this far to back out now.”

  “You, Corporal?” he asked of Hellmann.

  “I’m with the Sergeant.”

  In some ways Ryder was glad the Israelis wanted to press on, and after a few moments’ consideration said, “Okay, we stay with the plan.”

  Relief was clearly visible on the faces of the two Israelis. The two Americans just stared at Ryder whilst Afari and Fehed huddled together and looked blankly at the departing convoy.

  Cleaning themselves up the best they could they moved on down the gully away from the stink and settled in to await the twilight. When it eventually arrived, they struck out into the marsh and focussed on the yellow-tipped peaks of Kuh-e Mohammadabad and its twin, Kuh-e Alasahun dominating the skyline. A waning moon would light their path when darkness finally fell.

  Ryder stayed at the rear of the file, keeping a close eye on those in front. Fehed, roped to Sergeant Kellar, carried his backpack with hands tied. Afari did everything she could to help him over the uneven ground and through the shallow streams. A bitter wind blew across the plain from the north giving concern that the wind chill factor may rise to a dangerous level, despite the good protection given by the fatigues and sturdy fur-lined boots. Ryder, however, worried that crossing the streams in the depths of winter would drain resistance. He could feel a numbness creeping into his body already.

  The few streams encountered were easily negotiated, but the last before leaving the marsh was quite wide and relatively deep, and could not be crossed without getting seriously wet. Ryder ordered Fehed to be secured to a tree stump whilst he and the two Israelis searched the bank to the right for raft material, or perhaps even a boat. Sicano, Kellar and Afari were ordered to do the same in the opposite direction. Out of earshot of the others Ryder had warned her to keep ever on guard and watch both Americans carefully.

  A comparatively short distance later, Ryder came upon a domed hut close to the water’s edge. In front was moored a small timber boat with oars. A wisp of smoke spiralled up from the top of the hut. In the silence of dusk it was unlikely they would be able to take the boat without making some noise, but he decided to try anyway, thankful for the absence of dogs.

  The three crept to the water edge. Hellmann and Shiron carefully slipped into the boat whilst Ryder undid the rope on the bank.

  Suddenly, the flap on the hut flew open and a man jumped out pointing a rifle directly at Ryder, shouting to leave his boat or he would shoot.

  Ryder heard the hammer on the rifle click back, swung up his own to fire, when a sudden blur of movement came from the boat. The man instantly dropped the rifle, gurgling and clutching desperately at a knife imbedded deep into his throat. Hellmann calmly stepped out of the boat and, without looking at Ryder, strode passed him and over to where the dying man lay. He kicked the rifle aside, removed the knife and wiped it clean before resheathing.

  The whole incident had taken less than a few seconds. The Israeli corporal had hit the target at a distance of more than 15 feet in semi-darkness. Ryder was impressed; the corporal had probably saved his life. Was he the killer?

  Without anyone saying a word, Hellmann got back into the boat, followed by Ryder and they rowed back in silence to where Fehed was tied.

  When Sicano and the others returned not long after, the group crossed the stream taking two trips. Once all on the other side Kellar pushed the boat back into midstream and, in single file led by Ryder, struck out into what remained of the saline marsh.

  The ground began to rise dramatically once they reached the foothills of the secondary range. Much closer now, less than twenty miles distant, Kuh-e Mohammadabad rose high with its ragged, uneven outline silhouetted against a clear dawn sky. Ryder referred to the GPS and maps regularly now to ensure the peak ahead, to the left of its twin, was the one they had come to check out. He led them on over sparsely vegetated and patchy snow-covered ground, making sure to keep to the protection of gullies and shallow ravines, until full daylight finally arrived. That night they had covered more than fifteen miles and were now almost at the objective, exhausted and chilled to the bone. Choosing a sheltered depression, well camouflaged by scrub on a low, rocky mound overlooking the rapidly rising foothills of Kuh-e Mohammadabad, they made camp. Tomorrow the group would begin to reconnoitre the mountain. They settled down, keeping to themselves, eyeing one another with suspicion. Ryder made sure he could see them all and kept alert. It troubled him the way Hellman had thrown that knife with such accuracy and power back in the marsh. He would not get much sleep in the coming days, although he had the ability through constant practise to rest his mind and body whilst appearing to be awake. More than ever now, he had to be ready to spring into action the moment it was necessary.

  21


  Ryder raised binoculars and scanned the empty road below, then beyond to the steep, rising tussock and scrub-covered ground which filtered into the jagged, rocky surfaces of Kuh-e Mohammadabad less than five miles away. For as far as the eye could see the mountain range spread along the horizon, the twin peaks of Kuh-e Mohammadabad to the left, 11,800 feet high, and Kuh-e Alasahun to the right, 11,200 feet high, twenty-five miles apart, looming large and majestic like sentinels in the clear morning air. He ran the binoculars slowly over the barren, snow-covered left-hand peak and down the craggy features of the mountain’s western face, attempting to pinpoint anything that might give a clue to a base, but from this distance he saw nothing. A tarseal road, running almost on an east-west axis, bisected the valley and ran on up into the range away to the left on the western side of Kuh-e Mohammadabad. As it snaked through the lower hills, furrowed snow and darkened slush on the surface indicated the road was used recently by vehicles. Patchy snow covered the slopes, becoming widespread higher up. A strong wind blew sheets of powdery snow off the peaks and buffeted the foothills below. He let the glasses drop with a sense of foreboding; searching to determine if this mountain housed a missile base was not going to be easy.

  Using the GPS and co-ordinates given to him by Shiron, Ryder once more verified the bleak mountain mass to his left was in fact the objective. He turned to Sicano, also surveying the mountain through binoculars.

  “See anything unusual?”

  “Nothing; you sure this is the mountain?”

  “Certain.” He handed Sicano the GPS, together with map.

  A minute or two later the American looked up and said, “Yeah, I agree.” He then raised glasses to look again at the mountain and muttered, “Sure hope we ain’t come all this way for nothin.”

  Ryder turned to Shiron. “Does this area match the briefing data?”

  The Israeli nodded, “Checks out with aerial shots, including the road.”

  “According to this map, the road runs east to Abbasabad about seven miles into the range near the base of the mountain.”

  “The silo outlets would probably be on the western side,” Shiron said, glancing towards the peak. “Our experts covered every inch of the aerials, found nothing unusual – rock, scrub, snow, that’s all. We were to check overhangs and all tracks on the western side. If nothing was found at the lower levels we were to move upwards.”

  Ryder focused the glasses back on the mountain and then down to the road, following until it disappeared into the hills before turning to Sicano.

  “You and Clint scout the south-eastern flank; look for tracks and anything else that might be suspicious… You two,” he glanced at the Israelis, “will come with me to cover the western flank.”

  “And him?” Kellar asked, glancing at Fehed.

  “He comes with us.” He turned to Afari. “You stay here and keep an eye on the road. I want to know what comes and goes.”

  She nodded.

  To Ryder, she seemed suddenly to have lost the lethargy displayed over the past few days; he hoped so. Maybe the closeness of the mountain and the possibility of some action had something to do with it. Anyway, he had more to think about now they were separating into two groups. Would the killer see this as an opportunity to take out another? Keeping the Americans and the Israelis apart might reduce this possibility; although having the Israelis as part of his team was possibly placing himself at more risk.

  He continued, “This will be base, get back here in three days max. Watch for patrols, bury your shit and leave nothing to give away our presence. Do as you’ve been trained. You’re looking for anything that could be a penetration point into the mountain: silo head, vent stacks, anything not natural.” He paused and looked at each man, “Any questions?”

  Silence.

  “Okay, move out.”

  Under a mostly clear dawn sky streaked with wisps of orange and white cirrus clouds, the Americans left the ridge and made their way down towards the road and into the scrub beyond, keeping to what little cover there was and avoiding patches of snow to avoid leaving an obvious trail. Ryder held back until they were out of sight then said to Shiron, “Untie him.”

  The two Israelis glanced at each other, stunned; Hellmann’s brooding eyes boring into Ryder. Both just stood there tensely until Shiron broke the silence, “You can’t do that; you want to end up like the other Iranian? Why put us at unnecessary risk?”

  He wasn’t going to waste time explaining; obviously they had yet to work out that Fehed could not possibly be the killer.

  “Do as I say,” Ryder ordered, eyes boring into them both.

  The two did not move.

  “Do as I say!” he hissed, eyes shifting to the corporal in case he went for the knife. For one moment he wondered if he should confront the Israelis openly right now accusing them of killing Saad, but on reflection decided now would not be a good time; he would wait until he had backup from the others.

  Moments later Shiron shrugged, stepped forward and untied the Iranian.

  “Give him a rifle and ammo.”

  Again an exchange of glances; this time of real alarm.

  “Do it!” Ryder spat menacingly.

  This time Hellmann did what was ordered.

  Then for the sake of the two Israelis, Ryder said to the Iranian, “You make one wrong move and I, or these two, will kill you – understood?”

  Fehed nodded.

  With that they left the ridge and moved down the slope towards the mountain. To ease the tension, Ryder told Fehed to lead so he could be seen by all whilst he remained at the rear of the file as they began their search in earnest across the steeply rising terrain.

  By late afternoon Ryder had covered several miles of the lower mountain without incident. Thick clouds had descended making it difficult, if not impossible, to see the upper slopes. At one point he focused his glasses on a large and lengthy overhang, but cloud blanked out his vision of what looked to be an oddly flat piece of vertical black rock positioned immediately under the overhang for almost its entire length. After a few minutes trying to determine if it was man-made, he gave up; he would take a closer look on the way back – weather permitting. Down to the left as night fell, Ryder could make out the road and, beyond that, lights twinkling away in the distance, which he assumed was Abbasabad. Soon they would need to find suitable shelter. The thought of spending darkness in a dugout did not exactly appeal. At this altitude, constant alert for patrols and searching the mountainside sapped strength and the ability to remain focused. He feared the gruelling existence of the past weeks was beginning to take its toll on him more than expected. No doubt the others would be feeling it too, including the traitor, which gave him some degree of solace.

  Eventually, Ryder called a halt and they rested amongst rocks sheltered from the wind. Huddled together silently, chewing meagre rations and listening to the wind whistling across the slopes, they made themselves as comfortable as the cramped conditions would allow. Ryder agreed to take the first watch leaving the Israelis, keeping a close eye on the Iranian, to take the remaining until dawn. He resolved to stay awake for as long possible.

  Dawn arrived. Ryder had catnapped throughout the night. After chewing some more meat, the group, cold and stiff, left the boulders and recommenced the search. Now well into the western flank of the mountain, low cloud made it difficult to see much above them, or very far ahead, but slowly they made progress, scouring every yard of the rock and tussock surfaces. By early afternoon the clouds began to lift. The wind that had so far plagued them, eased and they made better headway. Hawks screeched overhead, searching for prey.

  Cresting a ridge, Ryder looked out across a narrow valley towards a broad spur, some 500 yards distant. Shiron said the spur looked like the one he had seen on the aerial shots but couldn’t be sure. He suggested they should stake-out where the spur met the mountain. Ryder agreed and they headed down the slope towards the long, scrub-covered finger of land.

  On reaching the crest the
four men could see the surface had been skimmed exposing rock to form a track capable of taking heavy loads. At first glance it could easily be judged natural, but on closer inspection the work of machinery was obvious. Despite boulders and rubble disguising its meandering path, there could be little doubt this track was subject to regular use. This fact energised the two Israelis who now took the lead following the track.

  They headed up the spur on the leeward side, keeping to the edge just below the level of the ridge, using what cover they could. Finally arriving where the spur and track met sheer rock, Ryder observed nothing unusual but it seemed illogical for the track to end abruptly like this. From a concealed position well away, he scanned the rock face with his binoculars; if an entrance did exist it would surely be under camera surveillance, or heat imaging. However, no equipment could be detected, but he decided it too risky to make a close-up inspection, resolving to dig-in and wait to see if anything happened before they had to leave the next day.

  The night was long, cold and uneventful. No matter how comfortable they tried to make themselves in the narrow, cramped conditions of the individual dugouts none succeeded. When the dawn arrived to the screeching of hawks above, Ryder decided to wait until full daylight before heading back to the base. When a pale sun partly hidden by cloud illuminated the spur without change in respect of the rock face and anyone using the track, he gave the order to move out.

  On the way back the overhang observed the previous day was still shrouded in low cloud but Ryder’s attention was quickly drawn away at the sound of barking dogs. Focusing binoculars down the mountainside he could see a patrol of several men, in single file, some distance down the slope, making their way slowly between the shrub and boulders. The file, accompanied by a pair of fierce looking Alsatians straining at leads, was thankfully heading in the opposite direction. They hid amongst the tussock and Ryder watched the patrol through his scope until they soon disappeared out of sight; a timely reminder they were not alone in this hostile wilderness and should remain ever vigilant if they were to survive.