The Exfiltrator

by Garner Simmons

  *****

  Racing down the mountain toward camp, Karim could see Roberto still thirty meters ahead. As he ran, his mind was spinning. Had the Iraqi really fallen ill? Or was it part of some elaborate ruse to divert attention while they extracted Tariq and transported him back to his father’s side. Karim settled on the latter. Of the exact details he could not be sure. But the one thing he now knew for certain: they were sending for a helicopter. He had to get word to the others. Time was of the essence. For their mission to be successful, he would have to reach Jarral without delay. Seeing Roberto reach the base camp, Karim veered off to the right and circled around. Quickly descending, he made his way along the dirt and gravel path toward the abandoned farmhouse beyond.

  *****

  Tariq had begun to sweat as his body trembled uncontrollably. Fearing the drug might be having a dangerously adverse effect, Corbett wrapped his jacket tighter around him. When the tremors continued, he considered administering the atropine but decided to hold off until he could actually hear the rotors of the chopper. Lying down beside him, Corbett held Tariq’s body against his own, attempting to use his own body temperature to help keep him warm.

  “Stay with me,” he whispered uncertain whether Tariq could even hear him much less understand. “It’s going to be all right. Trust me. I’ve got you. It won’t be long. The chopper’s on its way.”

  Lying there, Corbett thought back to the friendship they had first formed at Oxford. Inseparable. Like brothers. It was hard to explain. Being in love with another human being without any of the complications of sex. Complex feelings that at the time he would have certainly denied. But now, in a moment of clarity, Corbett suddenly realized that he had loved Tariq from the first. A love that transcended all the usual bonds of friendship. Unique. Unbreakable. Stronger than anything he had ever felt toward another, woman or man alike. Which, of course, had made Tariq’s betrayal with Amaia that much more painful. Without warning, his mind filled with the image of Jon Alesander’s bullet-ridden body, dead in the muddy Kibera street. Forcing these thoughts of death from his mind, he drew Tariq closer as if to protect him from some unseen force lurking in the night. Despite all that had passed between them, Corbett now realized: there was nothing he would not do to save him. Even if it meant laying down his own life. Attempting to impart every last ounce of warmth to calm Tariq’s trembling body, Corbett tried to steel himself against whatever was still to come.

  *****

  At the rear entrance to the abandoned farmhouse, Karim was met by Jarral. He was carrying an Uzi and had slipped the sheathed peshkabz through his belt as the remaining members of the cell now armed themselves as well.

  “They’re taking Tariq out…” Karim gasped, the words tumbling out as he struggled for breath. “by helicopter.”

  “Helicopter…?”

  “He appears to be sick, but I think it is a trick. The American has said he was calling for Medivac to take him away.”

  Jarral nodded, quickly running through the possibilities in his mind. “Then the helicopter must be destroyed. Make certain he cannot escape, then we kill him and take his head.” Turning, he moved to a cache of weapons stacked against the wall. Selecting an American made M72 LAW, he handed it to Karim. “Here... Use this.”

  Karim took the olive drab tube-like contraption from Jarral’s hands. Though hardly more than five pounds, it felt heavier. Holding it brought back memories of his training during his time in the Borderlands.

  “You have operated such as this before?”

  Karim nervously nodded, embarrassed to admit the truth. While he had frequently witnessed demonstrations of such a weapon in the camps, he had never actually fired one himself. The single round disposable Light Anti-tank Weapon was not to be squandered on target practice. Accurate within 200 meters, the basic instruction provided all one really needed to know: How to arm it; how to aim it; how to fire. The key was getting close enough that you couldn’t miss. Fire it once, then throw the casing away.

  “You will have only one shot,” Jarral was saying. “So you must get as close to the landing area as you can. Wait for the helicopter to settle. Line up the sights and then press the trigger. You take out the helicopter. Leave Tariq to us. Let Allah be our strength and may we meet again in paradise.”

  “As-salamu alaykum”

  “Wa’alaykumu asalam”

  Peace be upon you. The irony of the words were not entirely lost on Karim as he nodded, then slung the weapon over his shoulder. Hurrying back the way he had come, he tried not to think of his parents or how they might react to what he was about to do. This was Jihad. A Holy War. Part of God’s plan. After all, did it not say in the holy Qur’an: “We will cast terror into the hearts of those who disbelieve. For what they have associated with Allah, He has not sent down. And their refuge will be the Fire, and wretched is the residence of the wrongdoers.” And in the end, what was a helicopter if not a residence of war?

  *****

  It had taken almost three-quarters of an hour before the distinctive sound of the chopper’s rotors could be heard echoing off the mountains as it approached from the sea, its red and green running lights strobing as it came. Retrieving his jacket, he slipped it back on. Then reaching into his pocket, Corbett took out his buck knife and made a small cut in Tariq’s trousers halfway down his thigh. Then retrieving the Atropine Auto-injector that Fleckner had given him, he removed the safety cap and drove the needle directly into Tariq’s left quadriceps. Instantly, Tariq’s body responded as the Atropine jolted through his system. Eyes open, he looked around momentarily disoriented, uncertain where he was.

  “Tariq…?” Corbett said as evenly as he could. “Listen to me. The chopper’s almost here. I’ve got to set the flares. You understand?” Tariq blinked but said nothing. “You understand what I’m saying?” Corbett repeated his instruction. After a moment’s hesitation, Tariq finally managed a nod. “Good. Be right back.”

  Grabbing the backpack containing the road flares, Corbett pocketed the dual-purpose LED flashlight and scrambled out into the dark night. He could see the chopper still several miles out but coming his way. Moving quickly, he ran to the center of the mesa that extended 50 meters in front of the cave’s entrance, attempting to make certain the chopper’s blades would have sufficient clearance. Then igniting each road flare, he planted them at the four corners defining an impromptu landing zone. Equipped with night vision, the helicopter was closing fast. Corbett ran back to wait with Tariq as the chopper made its final approach and the pilot prepared to set it down.

  TWENTY-SIX

  H aving heard the sound of the helicopter approaching as well, Sebastian, Hector, and Roberto stood with the others just outside the cook tent as the three university security men joined as well. The perimeter of the camp was marked by a half-dozen five-foot kerosene torches that were lit every evening and extinguished each dawn. Gorka came out of the cook tent, stepping beyond the torchlight and staring up the mountain toward the cave as the chopper hovered above the landing zone illuminated by the eerie glow of the flares below.

  “What is this?” Gorka asked.

  “One of the day workers from the village,” Roberto replied. “He’s become ill and needs to be evacuated.”

  Sebastian frowned, “We must be careful that whatever it is doesn’t infect the whole camp. Did you see the man?”

  “Si. He did not look too good,” Roberto added.

  “What about Karim?” Sebastian asked. “He still hasn’t come down.”

  “He was right behind me,” Roberto answered. “Perhaps he went back to help.”

  “I have hunger,” Hector said, annoyed at the interruption. Turning away from the others, he added, “Let’s eat.”

  As they adjourned to the cook tent to resume their meal, a lone figure slipped past the camp unseen, moving in and out of the shadows. Carrying the three-foot long handheld rocket launcher, Karim moved quickly up the path toward the cave.

  *****

 
At the same time, deep below the surface, Ella had turned her attention to the lighting problem presented by the shadow cast by the rock overhang across the far right-hand portion of the cave painting. But as she began resetting and adjusting her lights, she became aware that the power source to her MP3 was beginning to fade. Removing the unit from her belt, she was just kneeling to replace the batteries when a strange new sound intruded on the silence. It echoed off the walls of the cavern like someone revving up a large engine somewhere high up in the darkness near the mouth of the cave. As the sound grew louder, she removed her earbuds, attempting to identify the source. Confused, she hesitated, uncertain what action she should take. Deciding against doing anything rash, she continued to kneel motionless beneath the overhang, listening, waiting for the sound to abate.

  *****

  Unaccustomed to strenuous exercise, Karim could feel the burning sensation in his legs and his lungs as he forced himself up the incline. For the sake of accuracy, he knew he had to get as close as he possibly could. Dust had begun to billow up, filling the air as the helicopter began its decent. At roughly fifty meters, Karim finally dropped to one knee behind a small scrub oak and unlimbered the LAW. Unlocking and relocking the concentric tubes, he slipped the trigger housing into position while simultaneously shouldering the weapon. As the chopper touched down, Karim pressed his eye against the sight. For an instant, he hesitated as the rotors were throttled down. Setting the crosshairs on the main body of the chopper just below the engine housing, Karim took a breath and held it. Then he pressed down on the trigger housing. The roar of the rocket and the explosion that followed were greater than he had expected. Mesmerized, Karim watched the chopper become a giant fireball as its fuel tanks exploded. The experience was almost sexual. It so completely absorbed him that he failed to see the detached rotor blade come tomahawking out of the night, decapitating him where he knelt like a supplicant praying to an uncaring God.

  *****

  The concussive force of the explosion simultaneously took out the generator, which, in turn, wiped out the lighting grid, plunging the entire cave into darkness. Her sense of panic mounting, Ella scrambled up only to crack her head hard against the overhang. Disoriented, she tried again striking her head a second time, this time against the wall itself. Head swimming, her body went sprawling across the limestone floor. Lying there unable to move, she felt the void closing in around her. Within moments, she had completely lost consciousness. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of sporadic gunfire filled the air.

  *****

  Standing clustered together outside their tents in the camp below, the archeological team from the Universidad de Salamanca stared upwards, their eyes fixed on the entrance to the cave in horror and disbelief, unable to turn away.

  “Dios mio…” Sebastian half-whispered as he fought to control his emotions. But his words kept coming, tumbling from his lips: “Patre nuestro que estas en los cielos, santificado sea tu nombre, venga tu reyno, hagasse tu voluntad…” until the bullets cut him down.

  Behind them, moving forward in a single unbroken line, a dozen Mujahideen had begun to lay down deadly fire, their mix of Uzis and Kalashnikovs filling the night air. Reacting, the three security guards ducked for cover as they drew their .9mm handguns and began to return fire. Roberto and Nestor died where they stood while others turned and fled. Grabbing his ancient carbine, Gorka joined the security men as they attempted to fight back. At the same time, Hector was caught in the crossfire. Dancing like some grotesque marionette, his body was propelled backwards, lurching into the cook stove and setting the tent on fire.

  For the mujihadeen of al-Battar, the cleansing had at last begun. The Sword of the Prophet had spoken.

  *****

  Having caught a glimpse of a dark figure crouching in the darkness approximately fifty meters beneath the landing zone, Corbett had instinctively pulled Tariq back into the recess of the cave’s opening and held him there as the rocket from the LAW struck the chopper. The violent force of the explosion was deafening as the fireball licked into the pitch-dark sky. And suddenly, all bets were off. With the heat from the burning helicopter preventing him from knowing precisely what dangers might lurk in the blackness beyond, Corbett could hear what sounded like automatic weapon fire coming from below. The Jihad had begun. For those left in the base camp, he could only assume the worst.

  Since the explosion had taken out the generator, the sole source of light within cave now came through the entrance alone provided by the still burning fuselage. Clearly panicked, Tariq stared wildly as Corbett pinned him hard against the rock wall just inside the entrance. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, Corbett forced himself to stay focused. To move either in or out posed serious risks. The ongoing Jihadi attack on the base camp obviously eliminated that avenue of escape. And without a working lift, descending into the massive cavern seemed all but insurmountable.

  “Tariq… listen to me!” Corbett’s voice had an edge, like a parent to a terrified child. “What happened just now – the explosion, the gunfire – an ISIS cell is here to kill you. You understand…? We have two choices: go back out and take our chances; or go deeper into the cave and try to find another way out.”

  “Another way…?” Tariq’s voice sounded distant and hollow. Judging from the look in his eyes, Tariq was still not listening. Corbett took out his LED flashlight and turned it on. The focused beam cut across the upper chamber of the cave, illuminating the rock wall on the far side forty meters away, accentuating the abyss below. Corbett immediately redirected the shaft of light downwards toward the cavern floor. Rethinking their options, he remembered the underground river and the secondary passage beside it.

  “Come on. We’ve got to go.”

  “Go…?” Tariq stared off into the uncertain darkness. “Go where…? How…?”

  “Just stay with me. While we were mapping the upper chamber, we discovered a ledge – a pathway down. It’s narrow. It looks to be no more than a meter wide, maybe two. But it’s our only shot.”

  “Ledge…?” Tariq repeated, still not quite comprehending.

  “Tariq, you’ve got to stay with me. We can do this. There’s no other way. I’ll go first. You grab hold my jacket and follow me down. Just do as I say.”

  Shining the light ahead, Corbett felt Tariq grip his upper arm. Moving along the rock wall, he skirted the spot where Sebastian had been excavating the skulls. Just ahead, he played the light over the rock wall, searching for anything that might indicate the place where the pathway leading down could begin. Noting a faint discoloration in the stone surface where it met the wall, he decided to take a chance.

  “Turn around,” Corbett said, physically maneuvering Tariq into position. “Face the wall and place your right hand against it. As long as you are touching the rock, you cannot fall.” Not fully believing his own words, Corbett did the same.

  “But I can’t see. Don’t we have a light?”

  “Leave the light to me,” he momentarily held the flashlight close between them so that it reflected off both their faces. “Now grab hold of my jacket with your left hand and stay in touch with the wall using your right. You understand…?” Tariq managed a terrified nod.

  Shifting the LED flashlight to his left hand in order to point the way, Corbett started down. Moving together, they began to make their way along the steep, treacherous incline. In the lead, Corbett attempted to shuffle his feet, knocking the rocks and debris out of the way, clearing a path so that Tariq would not trip or stumble as they went. It was slow going, especially at places where the ledge had been worn away by time and erosion. After what seemed like an eternity, they managed to traverse the entire ledge and were finally standing on the floor of the main chamber when Corbett heard them: from somewhere in the darkness high above, the sound of voices speaking in Urdu.

  Tariq looked to Corbett, who immediately shut off the light. Waiting in silence, they listened for confirmation.

  *****

  Having left Buttar a
nd the others to press the attack on the camp and execute the remaining unbelievers, Jarral motioned to a Jihadi called Raif to come with him. Together, they started up the mountain toward the cave. In his left hand, Raif gripped one of the five-foot kerosene torches he had taken from the camp perimeter. His right held a Kalashnikov.

  Moving past the heat coming off the flaming wreckage of the helicopter, they slipped into the darkness of the cave’s entrance. Jarral held his Uzi with both hands. Had Tariq died in the explosion? Or had he somehow escaped? Jarral needed to be sure. With the peshkabz still strapped to his side, he longed to take Tariq’s head. Ultimate proof of his devotion.

  From the moment they set foot inside the cave, Jarral felt at home. It reminded him of the caves of the Borderlands back home. It spoke to him of the cave called Hira on the mountain known as Jabal an-Nour. If Tariq were somewhere within this cave, Jarral was certain that Allah, the most benevolent, would lead them to him.

  Standing at the edge of the abyss, Jarral waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and his ears to become attuned to the sounds of the vast emptiness below. At first, nothing. And then the sound of the scrape of a rock. A flash of light below. Jarral stared hard into the gaping maw.

  “There,” he said, suddenly pointing down toward a pair of fleeting figures inching their way along the cave wall. Instantly, he knew there had to be a way down. His eyes followed their movement, two phantoms barely discernible in the blackness as they reached the floor of the main chamber.

  Resting the kerosene torch against the limestone wall, Raif raised his Kalashnikov and opened fire.