Angels Don't Die

by Petrek, Soren

  “Believe it or not, I can. We have a fairly new recruit with us. Until recently he was an American naval pilot on active duty in Vietnam. He’s an ace, with numerous confirmed kills.”

  “How did he come to be in the Legion?” Stenger asked.

  “I only know that he was thrown into the brig for striking a superior officer. He escaped, reached the French Embassy and joined the Legion.”

  “How can we locate this man?” Stenger asked.

  “As fate would have it, he’s sleeping in a bunk just down the hall,” Meyer answered. “What happens next?”

  “You get a call from Berthold Hartmann.”

  “Great,” Meyer deadpanned. “I’ll get our pilot ready.”

  “Good luck Hans, I appreciate your help,” Stenger said.

  Meyer slowly set the phone down wondering if there was any possibility that he was still asleep and this was all a bad dream.

  “Miguel, go wake Hinni. He’s got a plane to catch.”

  “I’ll get him right away, Sir. I’m certain that if it involves a plane he’ll be more than happy to go,” the adjutant said.

  “Maybe not when he gets his orders,” Meyer said, picking up a pot of cold coffee. “And on your way, go kick trooper Cortman’s bunk and tell him we need coffee. We’re all going to be up for some time to come.”

  Meyer paced the room in anticipation of a phone call he didn’t want to take. Finally the phone rang and he stared at it for three rings before picking it up.

  “Hello,” Meyer said.

  “Do you know who this is?” Hartmann said in German.

  “Yes, a friend told me to expect your call.”

  “One of your own needs your help. This person is very important to me,” Hartmann continued.

  “I have been informed of that.”

  “Then you are willing to go forward with the mission and recover the Legionnaire?” Hartmann asked.

  “I am. I simply need hard facts and an explanation as to the details of the operation.”

  “You will be contacted by my agent with the particulars. This is a rescue mission; your men will not be in danger,” Hartmann said.

  “We are used to being in danger,” Meyer answered, perturbed with himself at his discomfort in speaking with Hartmann, who had been an enemy to the Reich when Meyer fought for Germany, almost 30 years ago now. Hartmann sensed something in Meyer’s voice and said, “Do you still wear the Twin lightning bolts?” Hartmann’s statement was in direct reference to the SS tattoo that all of the SS troops bore. At first it had been a mark of distinction, but when the allies defeated Germany and rounded up the SS for perpetrating atrocities and war crimes, the tattoo was an identifying mark, one that most of them would rather not have had.

  “I fought for my country, sir. The Legion took me and many other SS in at the end of the war, given our combat experience and bravery,” Meyer said.

  “Yes, I know,” Hartmann responded. “And you at least have purged yourself of some of the crimes the SS perpetrated. Your refusal to slaughter innocent Jews is well known. This last step will wipe the slate clean with me, at least, and that means the Mossad.”

  “And if I fail?” Meyer asked.

  “Don’t fail,” Hartmann said as he carefully placed the receiver back onto the phone cradle.

  Day came and Madeleine continued to plod forward. The sun rose inexorably enough and as the rays of the sun struck her, Madeleine knew she was in trouble. She had begun to see strange objects just at the edge of her sight. They looked like buildings with cars arriving and departing, something that was a common sight in just about every modern country. A flash of hope was driven down when the buildings got no closer. She avoided looking into the distance as much as possible and concentrated on the road immediately in front of her.

  Her hands drooped by her sides and deep fissures cut into her cracked lips. Even the cloth covering her face did little to keep the wind from whipping her skin. Thankfully she was not walking directly into the wind. It came from her side. She had ceased to worry about the wind hastening the evaporation of sweat from her body. There was nothing left to evaporate.

  She began to see some of the faces of her numerous victims, people she had killed as enemies of France. They held no horror for her as she had no regrets. They all seemed to have the same expression, one of satisfaction, trying to communicate to her that she would soon be joining them. Still, the voice drove her on. She could palpably feel Amilakvari’s presence. Although she could not see him, she knew that wherever he was, he looked better than she did.

  Corporal Lee Hinni stood at attention in front of Colonel Hans Meyer. He was in his shorts and still trying to wake up.

  “At ease, Corporal. I’m told you are a pilot,” Meyer said, handing Hinni a steaming cup of coffee. Hinni relaxed, knowing that for the present, he wasn’t in trouble.

  “I was in the US Navy, before I got busted,” Hinni said.

  “Apparently for striking a superior officer, correct?”

  “Yes sir. In my defense, the officer got two of my men killed, when he broke off during an engagement and an enemy MiG got my men.”

  “You were in command?” Meyer said.

  “Yes, I was in command of that sortie,” Hinni said.

  “You were on a carrier, so how did you get to the mainland?” Meyer asked.

  “All I’ll say is that pilots stick together, sir.”

  “Have you ever flown a Mirage?”

  “Not yet,” Hinni said, intrigued.

  “A Legionnaire is in trouble, lost in the Judean desert. You are going to go find her,” Meyer said.

  “Where is the Mirage located, Sir?” Hinni asked, noting that the Colonel had said the Legionnaire was female.

  “Israel.”

  “Pardon my asking, but aren’t things a little hot there right now, Colonel?”

  “Yes. I suggest you don’t wander into Egyptian or Syrian airspace. Oh and don’t let the Air Force catch you either,” Meyer warned.

  “Won’t I be getting the Mirage from the Israelis?”

  “Not exactly,” Meyer said.

  “Where will I get it?”

  “You’re going to steal it,” Meyer said.

  “By myself?” Hinni said.

  “No, all you need to do is show up and fly it to the Judean desert. You’ll fly a search pattern over a coordinate grid that we give to you. When you find the lost Legionnaire, you’ll find a suitable place to land the plane and retrieve her,” Meyer continued.

  “I can’t land a supersonic jet in a pile of sand, Colonel,” Hinni said.

  “Can you land it on a road?”

  “I might be able to land it on a highway, with lots of space and few cars,” Meyer said.

  “If you can’t find a safe place to land, you’ll radio our squad on the ground, provide the coordinates of the Legionnaire and find a suitable place to land and abandon the jet.”

  “If I can land in the desert, Sir, where am I supposed to land with the Legionnaire?”

  “We have a spot picked out for you to land outside of the desert. It’s grassy but flat and hard,” Meyer answered.

  “Sounds like a field, Sir.”

  “It’s a football pitch,” Meyer said.

  “Do you mean a soccer field?” Hinni asked.

  “A series of them actually, located at an athletic club. You’ll be met by our extraction team.”

  “So, we are only borrowing the Mirage. Is that correct, Sir?”

  “Of course, we are only going to borrow the plane. What would the Legion need with a Mirage?”

  “That makes me feel much better, Sir,” Hinni said with only the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Ariel led the Mossad strike team as they waited in a small sparsely wooded area adjacent to one of Israeli’s munitions and equipment testing grounds. The building loomed large in the pre-dawn darkness. A large airplane hangar took up most of the structure. She hoped that the Mirage
wasn’t obstructed by other planes and could be easily moved outside. She and her fellow agents wore dark clothing and ski masks they could pull down over their faces to hide their features when the time came.

  “Remember those are our friends in there, so we don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’ve been to this facility before. The security is moderate at best, and shouldn’t present much trouble. You each have been given a small gas canister containing a substance that will disable your targets without any undue trauma. At most they will wake with a headache and remember little. I’ve allowed your side arms, but don’t use them except to threaten anyone confronting you. Do not fire the weapon. As you’ve been instructed, there are five guards and five of us. There are cameras watching the facility including the hanger where the Mirage is located.

  Since I am familiar with this facility, I’ll go to the security office and disable those cameras first. Wait for my signal, then infiltrate and subdue the men inside. Be careful; if you inhale any of the gas, you’ll go to sleep too. Just come up behind them and give them a good whiff. It’s best to turn your head and hold your breath. I know you’ve all had training with this type of weapon. I’ll go now. In five minutes, spread out and open the way for our friends.”

  “Who are our friends?” one of the team members asked.

  “That is not something you need to know. Trust me, if any of this becomes public, you won’t want to know,” Ariel assured them.

  “Mark the time on my signal. I’m going in.” Ariel rose, waved her hand and ran across the open field in the direction of the administration center where she knew the security office was located. She knew that speed would be her ally and remembered that if she entered through the back of the building she could avoid any security stationed in the front. She planned to deal with any additional guards revealed by the cameras. Each of the agents had a small short range radio set to a predetermined frequency in the event she needed to communicate with her fellow agents.

  Ariel reached the hangar and darted inside. She saw a guard at the far end of the open hangar space and was able to move to an inside door without being seen. Ariel stopped when she came to the door that led to the security office. Working the lock with two metal picks, she opened it easily. The security relied on the eyes and ears on the ground and the cameras in the security center.

  Crouching low, Ariel entered the corridor behind the door and quietly closed it behind her. She relocked the door and glanced at her watch. By now her fellow agents would be on their way towards their designated targets.

  Ariel made her way down the corridor constantly listening for any sound or indication of movement in front of her. She made her way to the door leading in and peeked in a window located in the top half of the office door. She could see the row of monitors and other equipment security used for monitoring all of the areas of the building. She saw a man inside with his feet on a console dutifully watching all of the screens at once. Silently she turned the knob. In one swift movement she stood and crossed to the guard, spraying the gas down into his face. He crumpled and slid backwards. Ariel reached out and placed two fingers on the man’s neck. There was a strong pulse. His even breathing told Ariel that except for being knocked out, the man was fine.

  Scanning the monitors, she spotted the four additional guards right where their Intelligence said they would be. She snapped the toggle switches to the off position, and all ten security cameras went to static. She glanced at her watch and made her way back down to the Hangar to wait.

  The Mossad team moved through the facility, and within two minutes all four of the security officers were asleep, safely positioned face down on the floor. The agents did not want an accidental fatality occurring if a security officer had a strong reaction to the gas and vomited. The Mossad agents checked their watches and sprinted out of the hangar within seconds of one another and raced back across the field headed to the rendezvous point.

  Ariel walked into the hangar. As she passed through the interior she saw the inert bodies of two of the guards lying quietly on the floor. She nodded to herself, pleased with the efficiency of her team. The Mirage was sitting about fifty feet from the cavernous opening of the hangar. An aircraft tractor was parked next to the opening along the outside wall. Ariel jumped into the aircraft tractor and activated the electric engine, maneuvered it to the Mirage and locked it to the front landing gear on the first try. She allowed herself small smile of satisfaction as she moved the heavy plane to takeoff position on the runway. Disengaging the tractor, she returned it to the hangar and ran into the darkness behind the building.

  Ariel removed a flashlight from her pocket. She pointed it in the direction of the far end of the airfield on the opposite side from the location where she’d meet her team. She flashed the beam twice and waited. Within seconds she spotted three answering flashes. She sprinted away from her location and in the direction of her fellow agents.

  “Did everything go as planned at your end, boss?” one of the agents asked Ariel as she joined the other agents crouching in a semi-circle awaiting her orders.

  “Just like we planned. Now we wait to see if the mystery pilot can get the thing off the ground.”

  “I hope they hurry up, I’m melting in this flight suit,” Hinni said to two of his fellow Legionnaires from the back seat of an open jeep. They were parked in a small olive grove adjacent to the airfield.

  “I wouldn’t want to be in a hurry to fly off in somebody else’s jet,” the driver said.

  “He’s right, that could be unhealthy,” the other man said.

  The three saw two distinct flashes in the distance.

  “There’s your signal, Hinni, time to go,” the driver said, starting the engine and drove towards the airfield.

  “You’re going to fly that thing?” The driver said as the Mirage came into view.

  “That’s my ride,” Hinni said. “Not only that, she’s armed, boys,” Hinni said gesturing to the sidewinder missiles attached to the underbelly of the plane.

  “That would scare me to death,” the driver responded.

  “Once you fly one of these honeys, you’re hooked, buddy,” Hinni said, clasping his hand on the driver’s shoulder. “Get as close as you can, I’m going to need a boost.”

  The driver stopped the jeep next to the fuselage of the plane. They boosted him into the cockpit, tossed him his helmet and pulled away. The driver then drove a short distance away and waited for Hinni’s signal.

  Hinni began to flip switches on the instrument panel. The cockpit was illuminated with an eerie green glow as the panel light up. He did an abbreviated preflight check; he wanted to make sure the plane was fueled up. He looked down at his instruments again and saw that the weapons system was operative. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use them. His orders were very clear.

  “Fueled and ready to go,” Hinni said absently as if he was speaking to the tower. “Okay baby, let’s see what you got.” He hit the ignition switch and the plane roared to life. He felt the engines to his left and right catch and fire. Who cares what the mission is, he said to himself. I’m flying again.

  Like most fighter pilots, the feeling of being at the controls of a plane was like nothing else on earth. He glanced out the window, at the jeep with his fellow Legionnaires leaving the airfield. “So this is what would scare you to death, buddy?” Hinni eased the throttle forward, the plane responding instantly. “You just don’t get it, that’s the whole point,” Hinni said to himself. He pushed the throttle forward and the plane began to build speed quickly for takeoff. Once he was in the air, Hinni pulled the throttle back and shot almost vertically into the night sky. The g force pushed him back. He gave a shout of joy in his excitement. Reaching altitude, he banked sharply toward the sunrise.

  As Ariel and her team moved away from the airfield, she heard the plane move down the runway. She saw the plane leave the ground and rocket into what remained of the night sky. The rate of acceleration was unbelievable. The pilot knew what he was doing. Once
the plane was out of view, she jogged to catch up to the rest of her team.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  When mid-morning came, all Madeleine could do was to place one foot in front of the other. She could feel herself taking as many steps sideways as she did forward. Her head was pounding as she tried to keep her eyes open. She knew that if help didn’t arrive soon or she found water she was going to die very soon. She was beyond desperation and was nearing the point of embracing death to avoid any more agony, but she kept moving. From time to time she thought she heard the sound of a jet flying low to the ground in the distance. The sound was distinct, but she dismissed it as another mirage.

  Hinni flew a crisscross pattern dangerously close to the desert floor. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Israeli Air Force scrambled a couple of jets to find out where the jet went that briefly appeared on their radar screen, then disappeared. He kept his eyes on the ground as he neared the end of the pattern he was told to fly over the coordinates he was given. At one point he flew over a road that seemed to lead out into the desert. During his briefing, he learned that the Legionnaire he was looking for had headed out into the desert in a vehicle. Maybe she came down this road, he thought, still marveling at the thought that he was looking for a female Legionnaire. He banked sharply and headed slightly off to the side of the road and shot forward in the direction of the main highway. In the span of a few moments he passed by what he thought was a person, moving slowly down the road. He banked sharply and gathered a little distance and headed back. This time he was certain it was a person, although he caught only a glimpse. He was sure that the person turned and looked at him as he screamed by. He thought he saw the figure try to raise a hand to signal him. He broke radio silence using a prearranged frequency.

  “I think I have her, about five miles due west of highway 77 leading out of Jerusalem,” he said after glancing at a map he’d taped to the side of the instrument panel.