by Greig Beck
Joshua nodded and shook his hand. “Thanks.” He turned back to the rock face, bounced for a moment on his toes, before leaping and grabbing a small ridge. He levered himself up from the ground.
“And, he’s off,” Rachel said softly.
“Holy shit.” Matt had a whole new level of respect for the skinny, young doctor of parasitology as he climbed deftly, moving like a crab across a tidal rock, never once looking back, ever looking upwards or across to his next handhold. In a few minutes he was a good 80 feet up and onto an outcrop with a jagged rock jutting up like a huge dagger. He wedged himself in behind it, threw a loop of rope around the outcrop, tied it off and then dropped it down.
“Okay, next,” Matt said.
Both of Khaled’s commandos climbed quickly, looking like they had experience. They were much heavier and less agile than Joshua, and dragged themselves up using raw muscle power alone. By the time they reached the rock outcrop, Joshua was already 50 feet further along on his way to his next island of rest.
“Let’s do this.” Matt nodded to Rachel, and then wiped his sweating hands on his pants. He grabbed the rope and tugged on it a few times.
Rachel snorted. “Matt, if it can hold that pair of beefcakes, then a lightweight like you should be safe.”
“Haven’t you heard that muscle weighs more than fat? I’m heavier than I look.” He drew in a breath, looking up to the first rest spot.
“If you fall, try not to hit me on the way down.” She nudged him in the back. “Get going, Hercules.”
He pulled himself up. Matt had climbed before and knew to use his legs as much as his arms and shoulders. The toughest bit of the climb was the abrasion on his hands – the rope wasn’t the soft, elasticized type favored by modern climbers but instead an old-style rope that had probably been sitting in the back of the jeep for years. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before one of Khaled’s two men held out a hand to pull him up the final few feet into the alcove.
“Good view, Professor?” Saeeb asked.
Matt noticed it was the commando from his jeep. The man had largely been silent and invisible.
“It’s Matt.”
“Saeeb.” The man shook his hand briefly. The other, taller man leaned around him to thrust his own hand out. “Rizwan.”
Matt turned to look out over the scene. Saeeb was right; it was a magnificent view of the African plain that stretched for miles. In the distance there were a few little dancing dust devils swirling over and around the dry earth, boulder, or stunted shrub.
Matt looked up to where Joshua was scaling high above them. “So, which one of you two gets to go next?”
Rizwan raised a hand, and then turned to start his second climb along the next rope line that Joshua had strung for them.
“I got this one.” Matt reached down and grabbed Rachel’s arm and hauled her up. She came into his arms.
“Easier than it looks,” she said, puffing for a moment.
“Yeah right; we’re not even halfway yet.” Matt looked up. “But we’re doing better than I expected.” He looked up and across to where Joshua was approaching his third rest stop. Rizwan was already perched at the second.
“The human fly is nearly there. Let’s get across to the second stop before it gets overcrowded here.” He looked back over the edge. Ebadi was closing in on where they stood and Khaled was now on the rope. Standing in line was Greta. She had Eleanor lashed to her shoulders like some sort of grotesque backpack. Behind her, the last two of Khaled’s men, Yasha and Zahil, waited their turn while Captain Okembu stood smoking a thick cigarette.
Greta reached up, took hold of the rope, and started to haul herself up, hand over hand. She shrugged off any help from the commando.
Matt blew air through his lips. “That is one tough woman.”
“Get going.” Rachel gave him a push.
Matt started up. In another half an hour he and Rachel were on the next ledge, and now all of them were strung along the face of the cliff wall. He checked his hands; the rough rope had scoured much of the skin off his palms and they stung like fire. He blew on them.
He looked up to see that Joshua had now made it to the cave, tied off his last rope for them to use, and then turned back to give them an enthusiastic thumbs up.
Matt waved back. “Come on. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
He felt strangely impatient and could feel the buzz of excitement in his stomach. Professional curiosity coupled with something else – an odd feeling of coming home. He took hold of the rope and gripped it tight for a few seconds before pulling one of his hands back to look at it.
“What’s up?” Rachel asked, trying to see over his shoulder.
“Uh, friction burn.” He gripped the rope again. The thing was, his abraded palms weren’t abraded anymore. Must have just been rubbed and flushed with blood, he knew he was just bullshitting himself now. Concentrate on the rope, he thought, focusing; the last thing he wanted to do was make a mistake when he was so close. He started up the second-to-last leg.
By the time he hauled Rachel up to the third rest stop, they were sweating and puffing hard. He had to lean back and catch his breath and was glad there was only about 50 more feet to go.
“Least it’ll be easy going down,” Rachel said, her own back against the wall. She pulled her small canteen from a leg pouch pocket and took a swig.
Matt looked down at all the bodies strung out over the wall. “That’ll be my workout for the day.” He rolled his shoulders.
“Hey, what’s that?” Rachel frowned as there came several odd popping sounds.
The sounds came again and seemed to echo and bounce around from somewhere out on the desert floor.
“I don’t know.” He squinted.
The next sound was from a ricochet and stone chips flicked over them.
“Oh shit; gunfire,” Rachel said. “Get down.”
“I think we’ve just been found.” Matt hunkered down. “Bandits.”
“Don’t think so.” Rachel listened to the gunfire for a second or two more. “That sounds like an HK416 Assault Rifle – a bit high tech for your average desert bandit.”
“Doesn’t matter, a bullet is a bullet,” Matt replied.
“Yeah, it does. Your average bandits can’t shoot for shit.” Rachel peered around a column of stone. “But these guys…”
More pops, and more shards of stone flying through the air. There came a grunt and yell from below, and Matt leaned out over the edge. One of Khaled’s security men tumbled back from the rope and fell like a bag of meat to impact hard on the ground. He didn’t move again.
“I think that was Yasha,” Matt breathed.
Rachel grabbed him and jerked him back. “… these guys know what they’re doing. Got to be the Borgia. Stay the fuck down.”
“Ah, shit. How did they find us?” Matt groaned. “For once in my life, I wish it was just Selekan rebels or bandits.”
Rachel pulled the handgun Khaled had given her and edged forward. The popping continued. “We’ve got handguns, and they sound like HK416s and M4 Carbines. We’re sitting ducks up here.”
“Where the hell are Okembu’s men?” Matt carefully lifted his head, and immediately spotted three bodies lying on the sand. “Oh, shit, no.”
Saeeb, the first of Khaled’s commandos, had made it to Joshua’s cave, and he immediately threw himself flat and began to return fire.
“Save your ammunition, buddy,” Rachel whispered.
Ebadi and Rizwan were closing in on them, and still at the second rest stop, Khaled waited his turn. Just below them, Greta with Eleanor, Zahil and Captain Okembu clambered along the rope, moving fast.
Matt guessed everyone had the same idea – they had no option but to keep moving.
Something popped and wobbled from the desert floor. It rose to about 50 feet, then it ignited before shooting directly toward them.
“Fucking RPG!” Rachel grabbed Matt and pulled him down flat.
The rocket-propelled
grenade quickly accelerated to 600 feet per second, before striking the cliff wall a hundred feet from them. Huge chunks of stone were blasted away, dropping to the desert floor with a shuddering thump.
There came another, and another. The next impacted about ten feet above Professor Ebadi and Rizwan. They hugged the cliff wall and tried to merge with the stone. But even though the impact had been above them, a sheet of rock about ten feet square exploded loose and came down like a massive guillotine, wiping both men from the wall as if they were flies on a windowpane. It was impossible to tell if either of them screamed.
Matt cringed as the rock and human debris crashed into the ground hundreds of feet below and then was followed by an echo that thumped out across the desert.
“Those sons of bitches,” Rachel hissed. “We stay here, we’re all dead.” She dragged on his arm.
“What about the others?” Matt pointed back down the rock face.
“We can stand here and fret about it, or we can climb higher and try to give them some cover as they climb.” Rachel peeked over the edge.
Matt felt like crap leaving the others behind, but knew there was no other serious option. “But…”
“But nothing, get moving.” She gave him a shove toward the rope.
Matt turned back to see that Khaled was climbing rapidly up to their position. High above them in the cave Joshua was yelling for them to climb, and Saeeb was trying to pick his targets down below – it was now or never.
Matt edged out, hanging onto the guide rope. For the first time he was conscious of the height, the breeze and growing darkness. The back of his neck prickled as if waiting for the bite of a bullet, or worse, the slamming impact of a red-hot fragmentation RPG.
Rachel was only three feet behind him. “Keep – going – don’t – freeze.” She hissed the words, breathing heavily herself now.
Bullets pinged off the rock nearby, but for the most part their attackers were targeting those lower down whom they had a better chance of hitting.
“Don’t look down, we’re nearly there,” Rachel said.
“Reach up.”
Matt looked up, to see the scientist leaning out with hand outstretched. His face was streaked with dirt and perspiration, and behind his specs his eyes stood out in a flushed face.
Matt grabbed his hand, pulled and then rolled into the cave to lie on his back, puffing hard. Joshua immediately rolled back and grabbed Rachel, who came up fast over the ledge and rolled for cover. After a few seconds, she was up and beside Saeeb, pointing her gun down at the desert floor.
Matt wiped his brow. The moon was rising and just before he joined Rachel, he saw the moonlight glint on something sticking from the cave edge. He squinted. It was an old metal piton – a climbing spike hammered into the wall. There was more gunfire and Matt rolled over and crawled up beside Rachel.
Khaled wasn’t far behind. He had skipped the rest stop on Matt and Rachel’s last perch and kept going toward them. Further back, the rest of the group was pinned down.
In another few minutes Khaled launched himself over the cave edge and rolled beside them. The Saudi wiped his sweating face, and leaned back out, cupping his mouth.
“Zahil, get ready.”
The man made a fist and nodded, and Khaled turned to Saeeb. “We need to give the rest cover, or they’ll be stuck until they’re picked off. Ms. Bromilow, do you have ammunition left?”
She nodded. “Okay for now; six still in the mag, and a spare clip.”
“Fully loaded, and three spare clips,” Saeeb said.
“Good, we’ll try and keep these guys’ heads down – on my word.” Khaled rolled back.
“Hold it, uh, question.” Joshua held up a hand. “But shouldn’t we be going the other way? Once we’re all up here, we’re still trapped.”
“I counted 20 rifles,” Saeeb said. “They’ve got us outnumbered and outgunned. Climbing down would mean getting shot.”
“Maybe not; they might just take us hostage, negotiate a sale back to our homes.” Joshua raised his eyebrows.
“Not these guys,” Matt said. “And just ask our three dead drivers how their negotiation sessions went.”
“We’ve got to get our people higher.” Saeeb looked through a small Special Forces scope. “We can’t defend our base when it’s so strung out.” He lowered the scope. “I don’t think any of them have sniper rifles, praise Allah – they have range, but no real targeting.”
“No real targeting, but lots of luck and just as much ammunition. Eventually they’ll hit us by accident.” Matt ducked again as another bullet smacked into the cliff wall beside them, making his point.
Khaled leaned over and yelled to his remaining commando who was pinned down with Greta, Eleanor and Captain Okembu.
The man gave him a thumbs-up – he was ready and waiting on their signal. Khaled, Rachel and Saeeb lay flat with guns extended. The Saudi sighted his targets.
“Ready?”
“Say the word,” Rachel breathed.
“Yes,” Saeeb said, his eyes rock steady.
“Three, two, one… climb!” Khaled yelled and began to fire at the desert floor. Rachel and Saeeb did the same, and his commando on the last outcrop began to push Greta and the clinging Eleanor toward the rope.
While the large woman readied herself, Okembu pushed past them, took the rope and began to climb. The commando made a snatch for him, but the Chadian army captain moved too quickly.
The commando yelled something, but then went back to getting Greta out on the rope, and then he followed.
Matt knew that the handguns would have little accuracy at that distance, but all the flying lead should be enough to keep cautious heads down.
The group climbed, Okembu coming fast, Greta slower, with the commando backed up behind them.
“We need to pick our targets. They’re going to be a while,” Rachel said.
Matt pulled Rachel’s field glasses from her pocket and scanned the desert. “It’s working; a few of them have been hit.” He blew air through his lips. “But I think there’s more than 20.” As he spoke the three jeeps roared away.
“There go our jeeps,” Joshua said.
“They’re retreating?” Matt said after the disappearing vehicles.
“No, they’ll be back,” Khaled said. “I think they’ll be getting reinforcements and supplies. I believe they’re going to wait us out. I would.”
“Well, that’s just great. No one’s climbing down anytime soon,” Joshua whined.
“You can climb down anytime you wish. Maybe you can check on Yasha or Doctor Ebadi for us.” Khaled turned to glare. Joshua dropped his gaze.
“Yeah, I think that’s their plan,” Rachel said. “A siege.”
About 50 feet further down and along the rope, Captain Okembu paused, resting momentarily, and Greta caught up to him. Amazingly, the large woman, simply reached around the Chad Army captain, and then kept on climbing.
“Wow.” Matt couldn’t believe how powerful the woman was as she moved hand over hand along the rope. Okembu started up again, now only just in front of the trailing commando.
The two groups were halfway across the rope when the next round of RPGs impacted against the wall. One too low, the next too high and the third RPG obliterating the perch they had just left, and also the rock the rope had been tied around. The remaining climbers swung free like a giant pendulum with the two women and two men hanging on tight.
Zahil, Khaled’s commando, was closest to the blast and also right at the very end of the rope so caught the greatest g-force in the swing. He crashed hard into the cliff wall several times in his high-speed arc. He seemed to have damaged one of his arms and he slipped a dozen feet down the rough rope.
“Zahil is hurt.” Saeeb had the scope to his eye again.
Even without scopes they could see the blood over his face and shoulder. Being that close to the explosion would have meant flying rock debris would have been like frag shrapnel. The two men, plus Greta with Eleanor on
her back, hung on tight as the rope sawed back and forth across the sharp edge of their ledge. The fibers of the old rope immediately began to pop and fray.
“It’s not gonna hold,” Rachel said, and cupped her mouth. “Climb, hurry!”
Both Greta and Captain Okembu slowly hauled themselves up the now vertical rope. The strain must have been unbelievable on already fatigued muscles. Khaled’s last commando just hung there, and Matt was glad he couldn’t see his face, as he knew there might have been pain, maybe fear, or maybe just a calm sense of inevitability.
“We’ll have to go and get him,” Matt said.
“No,” Joshua said.” The rope can barely hold them all as is.” He grabbed at the rope. “We can at least pull them in.”
But even this proved unworkable, as the weight on the rope made getting their hands underneath it impossible and leaning over the edge invited gunfire.
The rope stretched and complained against the ledge, and fibers pinged free to roll back from the main bunch.
“Jesus, we gotta try and wedge something underneath it to stop it cutting.” Matt took off his shirt and tried to jam it underneath the rope, when another RPG exploded on the cliff face out to the side of them.
“Shit!” He rolled away as debris rained down on the group.
“They’re getting better,” Khaled said and scrambled back to the edge. “Climb, brother!”
“Finding their range,” Rachel said evenly. “The next one will be right down our throats.” She threw herself back out at the edge.
“Goddamn get moving!”
Greta was close now, followed by Okembu, but it wasn’t their climbing that would determine their fate, but the rope – more fibers pinged away, and it was now only half of what it was before.
“It’s gonna break.” Saeeb grabbed onto it.
“It’s not going to hold them!” Joshua yelled.
Okembu stared up at them for a moment, and with one hand dug down at his waist to remove a long-bladed knife. He looked down momentarily and saw that Zahil was staring back up at him. In the growing darkness Matt thought he made out the tiniest of nods from the commando.
