Angels Don't Die

by Petrek, Soren

  “Those are the orders?” Nasab asked.

  “Yes, but our Egyptian and Syrian allies are confident that they will be able to win a decisive victory by conventional means. Holding the agent in reserve is just additional insurance,” Sacari said, idly tossing the worry beads in his hand.

  “You know the Jews will fight to the death,” Nasab said.

  “Then our land and our heritage will be restored. This is a holy war, Ismael. Right now, our chances of victory are at their highest,” Sacari said pointing his finger at the younger man for emphasis.

  “Is America an enemy we want to make?”

  “Remember the oil, Ismael. Our biggest weapon is their dependence on what we have and they need. If we need to, we can reduce their supply to a trickle,” Sacari explained.

  Ismael shook his head in understanding. “Then here’s to a swift victory,” Nasab said raising his coffee cup.

  “And to keeping the Americans where they should be, at the end of our oil pipeline,” Sacari said with a flourish, as both men laughed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  John smiled to himself as he stepped into the bar room, his eyes adjusting to the dim interior. It smelled of stale beer and unwashed bodies. He was glad that he couldn’t see the filth on the floor that crunched under his feet. He spotted the man he was looking for seated on a stool talking to a disheveled hard bitten blond woman, who looked like she came to the bar a few nights ago and never left.

  “Pilots always know the best places,” John said in a loud voice.

  “Colonel John Trunce. What did I do now? “Captain Vincent Richards said, throwing his old commander a salute as John walked over and shook his hand. “Jimmy, get this old warhorse a whiskey, and while you’re at it, I’ll have one too,” Richards said motioning to the bartender.

  “It’s good to see you Vinnie,” John said, as the bartender produced two chipped glasses and poured out two healthy shots of liquor. “I’ve got a favor to ask, but it’s kind of personal. Do you think we could grab a table for a minute?”

  “Darling, here’s some money for the juke box,” Richards said turning his head towards the blond. “Would you give us a minute?” Richards said handing her a handful of quarters off of the bar.

  “What I need is a drink,” the blond answered crushing out her cigarette.

  “Juke box first, drink later, after I get a few minutes with my friend,” Richards said gently steering the woman in the direction of the juke box.

  “You’re the boss,” the blond answered getting shakily to her feet.

  After Richards’ acquaintance made it across the room, John said, “Vinnie, you still know how to pick ‘em.”

  “She’s not that bad, as long as you don’t look at her in direct sunlight. But I’m sure you didn’t come to this place to discuss my love life. What can I do for your Colonel?”

  “I need a ride to Israel for me and a couple of friends,” John answered.

  “What do you want to go there for? There’s nothing there but sand and veiled women.”

  “I've got one more job that I need some help with,” John said.

  “Airborne work, Colonel? I'm short time myself flying supplies into Israel. But I’m sure you already checked on that. It’s mostly office equipment and things like that. At least that's what the boxes say. I’m just about as far from the war as possible. And to be honest, that suits me just fine.”

  “I need to hitch a ride on one of your regular runs over to Jerusalem.”

  “Is this off the record, Colonel?”

  “It has to be, at least for now.”

  “So I won't be including Colonel John Trunce on my passenger list,” Vinnie said with a grin.

  “It’ll just be me, a couple of crates, and three others.”

  “I’d be happy to. Besides who's going to know? We flew all kinds of stuff in and out of Korea and Vietnam that weren't on any lists.”

  “I'll sign orders that will absolve you of any responsibility,” John said.

  “Colonel, I owe you so many favors, I don't give two damns about orders. I'm going anyway. I could use the company.”

  “What about your navigator and co-pilot?”

  “Wear your uniform. There's enough brass on that damn thing to scare the hell out of just about anybody.”

  “It's one way, Vinnie. We'll be leaving by other means.”

  “When do we go?”

  “When’s your next run?”

  “Five in the a.m., Tuesday. Three days from now.”

  “Flying out of Hunter?” John said referring to the army airfield near Savannah, Georgia.

  “We'll be there.”

  “I'll already be loaded and ready to go.”

  “Thanks, Vinnie,” John said.

  “Is this your last time in the field, Colonel?”

  “I hope so, Vinnie. I hope so.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sam Trunce lay on the rag rug next to the heating vent in the upstairs hallway of the old farmhouse. He was blond and brown from the sun, and his fingernails always had some dirt from the woods under them. This summer, he and his friends had hunted the woods, practiced their tracking skills, and although he was only ten, he had learned the art of remaining motionless.

  He didn’t like spying on his parents, but he could tell that something was wrong; something involving his brother Tracy, and his parents were trying to hide it from him. Tracy hadn’t called in two weeks, and with every passing day the frown lines in his parent’s faces had deepened.

  When his Tante Madeleine and Jack had arrived, Sam knew that the adults were going to do something to find Tracy, and he had no intention of being left out. He pressed his ear firmly to the vent so that he could hear what was being said at the kitchen table.

  “We leave in the morning,” John said. “We'll have to truck the supplies; no way I could finagle those things onto a commercial flight.”

  “No, I suppose not, John,” Madeleine added.

  “Everything about this mission is highly illegal, by the way,” John said.

  “Just get me on the ground, John. These animals think they know about terror? This will not turn out well for them,” Madeleine said.

  Sam's eyes widened and goosebumps crawled up his arms. He knew a little about Madeleine in World War Two, but they just seemed like stories. One thing he knew was that he wasn't going to be left behind. Tracy was his brother and needed his help. He was going.

  “Then we're going to do this,” Karen said. “I don't have any experience in anything like this. You'll have to help me, tell me what to do.”

  “You already have the most important thing in your favor, Karen,” Madeline continued.

  “What's that?”

  “Hate,” Madeleine said in a voice that came from deep inside her. It was flat and emotionless, a simple statement of fact. Both John and Jack looked at her. They'd both seen it before. She seemed to harden before their eyes. Her eyes darkened and she seemed to close in on herself. Without a word, both Jack and John knew whose operation this would be. L'ange de la mort had arrived.

  The next morning John and the rest of the crew were loading up a cargo van rented in town from a trusted source. The battered white van had been chosen to blend in with the thousands of others that filled city streets every day. A car pulled up and two men got out.

  “Howdy, Johnny,” John's uncle Gus said, greeting everyone with a big hug, Madeleine and Jack included. They were all old friends.

  The second man said quietly, “Greetings Colonel.” He was Tom Barnes and an old comrade of John's. For two wars he'd been in John's command. He retired and sat out Vietnam. These were the two men who would keep an eye on Sam. Once the mission started overseas, John wanted two of the best men he knew taking care of anything that might come Sam's way. They would be dealing with terrorists, both unpredictable and deadly.

  Only Madeleine heard the third man walk up, she had moved quietly into position behind him before he emerged from the trees.


  “Joseph, good of you to come,” John said.

  Madeleine relaxed and said, “Hello old friend.” He swung his head around in surprise, having missed her movements.

  “Madeleine, you're like a ghost,” Joseph said.

  “I’m getting back into practice,” Madeleine said.

  “Colonel, I'd like to come on this mission,” Joseph said.

  “Joseph, I’d like it if you stayed here. Your being here is like me being here,” John said placing a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “If anyone is keeping tabs on my movements, having you gone at the same time is going to arouse suspicion. As much as I’d like to have you come, I have to keep as low a profile on this as possible. There's no way they don't know Tracy is a hostage. We're staying off the phones and watching our backs. If there aren't eyes on us yet, there will be,” John said.

  Madeleine turned her head and saw Sam walk across the porch carrying a small backpack and an old single shot .410 shotgun. He walked purposefully towards the van.

  “Sam, what are you doing?” Karen asked before any of the soldiers could speak.

  “I'm going with you to get Tracy,” Sam said as if there'd be no question.

  Both John and Karen moved towards Sam. “Sam, we explained this to you last night, where we're going is no place for a child,” John said.

  “I can shoot, I'm not afraid,” Sam said holding his ground.

  John moved to take the shotgun and backpack from Sam.

  “John, a moment if I might,” Madeleine said.

  Madeleine was just about the only person in the world John would defer to unconditionally. He nodded and Madeleine gestured to Sam to follow her around the side of the house towards an old barn and mound of dirt Sam and his friends used for target practice plinking away with their old .22 rifles.

  “Do you have ammunition for that shotgun?” Madeleine said.

  “Yes,” Sam said pulling three shells from his pocket.

  “You know I was in the War, World War Two, right Sam?”

  “Yes, Tante Madeleine,” Sam said.

  “You and I are family. And we are also comrades in arms now,” Madeleine said. “Do you know what that means?”

  “Yes, we fight for each other,” Sam said.

  “Then you must help me. There’s a dangerous thing I must do. I have to go and get Tracy. Everyone else has a job to do to help me, but mine is a one person job. I need to know that there are people like you and Joseph at home to protect the people we love and our homes. Will you make the sacrifice and stay here?”

  “But why you, Madeleine? I know you were in the war, but did you fight?”

  “Someday I’ll tell you the whole story, I promise. It's best to say I was a spy, like my husband Jack. But I fought and killed the enemy. Many times young men, no older than you, helped me in my work. Young French men and women, boys and girls really, who did their duty to their families and countries, just like you must do now. I have dangerous work to do, and I will be able to do that work better knowing that you are guarding the house. I won’t have to worry.”

  “I'll stay here and guard the house and the town,” Sam said without hesitation.

  “Innocent people must always be protected from bad ones. The world is full of people who want to hurt others. Knowing that it is more important to be more concerned about others than yourself is the most important lesson we learn in life and in church. But I think you know that already. One of the best men I know was a German soldier, who saved my life. He was an enemy soldier but a champion of innocents. I hope you get a chance to meet him some day. We have to go, but before we do, I want to see you shoot that shotgun,” Madeleine said.

  John and Karen stood several feet behind Madeleine listening as she spoke, grateful that their last words to Sam could be out of love and not anger. Neither knew what lay in store or if they would come back.

  Sam carefully cracked open the breech and placed a shell into the chamber. He raised the gun to his shoulder and shot at a tin can buried in the mud of the berm they'd constructed as a back stop.

  “Sam, if someone comes for you and you do not know them, then you must shoot. Shooting at a person is not like shooting at an animal or a can. You must mean it. Hold the weapon like this.” Madeleine placed the butt of the gun down from her shoulder and anchored it slightly to the right of her midsection. “Push the butt of the gun into your side very firmly. Bend your knees to steady yourself and fire into the largest part of the person's body, right in the middle. Don’t shoot from too far away, 10 or 15 feet at most. They won't think that you’ll be capable of shooting. Remember, a friend will identify themselves. Fire only as a last resort. Joseph and two other fine soldiers are here to help. If you have to shoot, never check on the body. Move, hide and reload. Keep at least 4 shells in your pocket at all times. Use heavy shot, not a slug. With the spread of the shot, you are less likely to miss,” Madeleine said handing the gun back to Sam breech open and empty. “Now you try it.”

  Sam reloaded the weapon and placing the butt as Madeleine has showed him. He instinctively placed his right foot slightly behind him as he crouched, steadied and fired.

  “Good work,” Madeleine said as Sam ejected the shell. “I'm sure your father told you how dangerous guns are. They are not toys. If I hear that you are not treating your gun with respect and caution, I will be very disappointed.”

  “Yes Madeleine, I will.”

  Madeleine reached out and shook Sam's hand, thinking back to the strength young men and women had demonstrated in her youth. She had seen the bodies of 12 and 13 year old boys, killed randomly by the Gestapo and others. It had been too late to stop their deaths, but never too late for revenge.

  Without a word Madeleine rejoined John and Karen who both reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder in thanks.

  Sam and the adults stood outside of the van and said their goodbyes.

  “Tell Tracy I would have come,” Sam said, looking away, his eyes tearing up.

  “He knows you'd come if you could,” Karen said holding him tight. John hugged them both.

  “Let's go get Tracy,” John said as the small team took their positions in the van, and headed down the narrow dirt driveway towards the desert and their loved one.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Bundled up against the cold in the back of the C-47 transport, Madeleine, John, Jack and Karen compared notes on what was next.

  “I've arranged two different safe houses through contacts,” Jack said. “Both are provisioned and far away from any curious eyes.”

  “We need clothes that will help us blend in. Karen and I will go to the market under the guise of tourists, to make the necessary purchases,” Madeleine said.

  “I've brought along some smaller radios for communication. They have limited range but are easier to conceal,” John said.

  “But where do we start looking?” Karen asked.

  “I've got some more intelligence, through Whitehall. The PLO is somewhat disorganized and a couple of their hidey-holes have been discovered,” Jack said.

  “So then what, do we grab one of their operatives and question them?” John asked.

  “On the battlefield that may work, John, but here it is highly unlikely if not impossible to assume that any random PLO member will have the information we seek. Someone will have to infiltrate and determine who is most likely to have that information or is closest to it,” Jack said.

  “I suppose you're right. We can't afford to set off too many alarm bells, or they'll move Tracy out of the area,” John said, squeezing Karen's hand in support.

  “I also have some preparations to make,” Madeleine said. “With the proper clothing, I'll be able to move around freely, and I can speak Arabic and Hebrew well enough to blend in. I need to find Mossad headquarters and look up an old friend.”

  “We should tread easy with the Mossad, Madeleine. Things are very tense. They won't want to touch off a war without being fully prepared,” Jack said.

  “I'm not going to
waltz through the front door. I'll wait and watch. This is a large city and we don't even know if Tracy is here or elsewhere. I think the best plan of action is to confuse the PLO. Keep them guessing. They will know an enemy is attacking, but have no idea whom.”

  “Confusion through terror?” Jack said.

  “It's a valuable tool,” Madeleine finished, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, leaning against Jack. Within minutes, to the surprise of the others, she was sound asleep.

  “How can she do that?” Karen said. “I'm so frightened I don't think I'll ever sleep again.”

  “When we're in place at the safe house, Madeleine will tell you what you need to know,” Jack said. “Now, let's all try to get some sleep if we can. Sleep is going to be a luxury soon. We'll have to get it when we can.”

  John made sure Karen was reasonably comfortable on a pile of packing rugs. He then made his way forward to speak to Vinnie.

  “Is everything okay up here?” John said

  “Sorry the accommodations aren’t more comfortable, Colonel,” Vinnie replied.

  “They'll be fine.”

  “We've got a stop for refueling in Gibraltar and then Jerusalem right after that, “Vinnie said glancing at his copilot.

  “Glad to meet you, son,” John said clasping the man on the shoulder.

  “The pleasure’s mine, but I've never met you sir,” the copilot answered.

  “That's best,” John said, turning around heading back into the cavernous body of the C-47. The plane was loud, cold and huge. After this trip, he'd never miss riding in one of these things again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As the cumbersome plane began its decent into the Jerusalem airport, the outside temperature began to drastically heat up the cargo bay. Madeleine and the others began to shed their heavy outer clothes in favor of the light tourist clothing they wore underneath. The plane made a solid, if bumpy landing which John assured Karen was standard for the big transport. The pilot was given immediate clearance to move the plane over to a more remote area where the US government maintained a couple of cavernous hangers to accommodate large planes like the C-47.