The Babel Conspiracy

by Sylvia Bambola

  “No . . . it’s no use. Go. I will cover you. If anyone follows, I’ll stop them.”

  “I won’t leave you,” returned Iliab in a harsh whisper, his feelings finally working their way to the surface.

  “You must not jeopardize the mission.”

  Iliab gestured to the limp body of Audra still slung over his shoulder. “If only this woman were able to walk . . . I could carry you.”

  Nathan struggled to pick up his rifle, then propped himself against the boulder. “But she is not. Now go. This is a good spot. They won’t get past me here.” He was protected on all sides. And the side facing the pathway offered him a good view. From here, he could stop anyone who tried to follow his companions.

  “Please, my friend! Go quickly!”

  Iliab stooped and deposited Audra on the ground then removed one of the bandoleers of ammunition. Without a word he draped it over Nathan’s left shoulder, picked up Audra and left.

  For three hours Iliab labored under the burden of Audra’s limp body and his own heavy heart. Progress was slower than he had hoped. Finally, in utter exhaustion, he searched out a suitable cave. They needed rest. It was while helping to settle the women that he heard a faint, far-away sound coming from the direction of Seco Polvo.

  “What is it?” Trisha whispered.

  “Rifle fire.”

  The two stood by the cave entrance listening until the popping noise stopped and all was quiet. And both knew that Nathan Yehuda was dead.

  • • •

  “Get away from me!” Audra shrieked. Her blond, matted hair stuck to her dirt-smudged face as she pointed at something neither Iliab nor Trisha could see. “Keep it away.” She dove into Trisha’s arms.

  “It’s gone,” Trisha whispered softly.

  “You said that before but it keeps coming back.”

  “It won’t if you sleep.” She led Audra to the rear of their small cave. “Lie down and rest.”

  Large drops of perspiration streamed from Audra’s face. “I’m so cold.” Although the heat of the day had begun to penetrate the interior of the cave Audra’s body shook, her teeth chattered. Trisha removed the black dress Nathan had given her and covered Audra with it.

  “Will she be all right?” Iliab asked, a look of both concern and disgust on his face.

  “She has the DTs, delirium tremens.” Trisha pushed her hair from her face as she watched Audra convulse. “If she goes into shock we could lose her.”

  “What does she need?” Iliab barked. “Besides a drink?”

  “A sedative, and she needs to be kept warm.”

  Iliab removed the pipe and small bag of hashish from his shirt which he had told Trisha he carried when on a mission posing as an Arab. He claimed it proved invaluable as a bribe or for loosening a stranger’s tongue.

  She wondered if it would prove equally useful on Audra’s behalf.

  He filled the pipe, lit it, then handed it to Trisha. “Make her take several puffs.” Then he removed the bandoleer and his shirt.

  Trisha was startled to see wide scars plating his chest. Other scars covered his back and sides.

  “Use this to keep her warm,” he said, handing her his shirt. Then frowning, he added, “Are all American women as spoiled and self-indulgent as that one?”

  Trisha looked away. She knew what he was thinking; that Nathan had given his life to rescue two self-centered Americans. For although Iliab had not said it, Trisha was sure that in his mind he had included her with Audra.

  “Make sure she is ready to travel by nightfall!” he growled, taking up the bandoleer and his rifle then moving once again toward his post by the cave entrance.

  “Iliab,” Trisha said softly, causing the scarred man to turn towards her. “I’m sorry about Nathan.”

  • • •

  CHAPTER 16

  Trisha struggled to help Audra over the dark, rocky path. They were traveling by moonlight again. The ever-present patrols made day travel too dangerous. But the rough terrain and ISA fighters on their trail weren’t their only problems. Water was another. It was rationed. And right now, dust and grit coated Trisha’s mouth like wallpaper. No one had thought to take Nathan’s canteen. That left only Iliab’s.

  One canteen for three people.

  Already, too much of it had been used. During the worst of Audra’s DTs Trisha had persuaded Iliab to give the metallurgist extra helpings. Now, they were critically short. There would be enough food, although only handfuls of it were doled out at a time. It was rationed, too. But water, that was the real issue.

  They were less than ten miles from where Joshua waited with fresh supplies but it would take another two days to reach him. Travel was slow going and the mountain so treacherous they often had to backtrack, then go forward, then backward in a zigzag pattern. It could take hours to move forward one mile.

  “I’m so thirsty!” Audra grumbled. The danger of shock had passed, helped by Iliab’s hashish which he had given her in small amounts. “I can’t go another step unless I get some water!”

  “Lower your voice!” Iliab said between clenched teeth. “There’s danger all around. I’ve warned you of this before! Why are you such a foolish woman?”

  “I’m doing my best to cooperate, but I’m so thirsty.”

  Iliab unscrewed the cap of his canteen, took a small sip and handed it to Trisha.

  “Wait . . . what about me!” Audra’s voice started to rise again.

  Trisha was about to hand the canteen to Audra when Iliab stopped her. “No! You drink. One sip, like I took.” Trisha obeyed, then returned the canteen to Iliab.

  “We must ration the water,” Iliab said, looking at Audra. “And you’ve already had more than your share.”

  “Just a sip! One sip, please!”

  Iliab held his fist within inches of Audra’s face. “If you speak loudly again I won’t hesitate to silence you.”

  Audra compressed her lips, and for the remainder of the night didn’t utter another sound.

  Just before sunrise, Iliab directed them to a cave where they stayed the day discussing the journey ahead or dozing or eating their ration of dried fruit and nuts.

  There was enough hashish for one more pipe and Audra smoked it sparingly, trying to make it last. It seemed to improve her mood. The sore spot was still water. They were allowed two small sips for the entire day, and one small sip during their travel at night.

  “The ISA fighters are still searching for us,” Iliab said, slipping on the bandoleer and slinging his rifle over one shoulder. The women had already gathered up the goatskin sacks containing their food and tied them to their belts. The cave was black now, and the three stood by the mouth waiting for the last trace of sun to disappear.

  “How far away are they?” Trisha asked.

  “Half a day, judging from their dust.” It was Iliab’s practice to spend part of the daylight hours scouting. “It’s a small group, maybe four or five men. But there must be dozens more all over the mountain, and their advantage is they travel by day and cover more ground than we do. Even so, we can escape detection if we’re not careless. They cannot see us in the dark.”

  That night the three pushed harder than ever, spurred on by the thought of the trailing ISA fighters. But it was not without incident. The jagged rocks and sudden drops made the hike treacherous. Sometimes the trail was a narrow ledge. Other times there was no trail at all and ground was covered by crawling over boulders.

  Night travel would have been impossible if it were not for the full moon. But even with it, every step was one of chance and danger. It was while rounding one of those narrow ledges that Audra lost her footing and fell ten feet into a chasm. Retrieving her was difficult, and valuable time was lost.

  After that, she limped and began complaining again. “I can’t walk! Don’t go so fast!” she repeated like a stalled recording until Il
iab threatened to leave her behind. For the next three hours Audra traveled in silence. But by the time Iliab began looking for a cave in which to spend the day, her ankle was swollen to twice its size and she dragged her foot as she leaned on Trisha for support.

  By daybreak they were in their new cave. While Trisha and Audra rested, Iliab scouted the area. When he returned he told the pair they were not as close to where Joshua Chapman and the other agents waited as they should be. If they didn’t reach their destination by tomorrow morning Joshua had orders to pull out, and with him the two transport trucks as well as fresh food and water.

  Audra cried when she heard the news.

  Trisha prayed. She was sure their only option now was day travel, and wasn’t surprised when Iliab’s order came.

  “Sleep now. In another hour we move out.”

  “I can’t sleep,” Audra said with a moan. “My ankle hurts too much.”

  “Then rest. But rested or not, we all leave when I say.”

  “I’m sick of you telling me what to do!”

  “Keep your voice down!” Iliab barked.

  “And if I don’t, what will you do? Kill me?” Audra was becoming hysterical.

  Without another word, Iliab walked over to her.

  “What? Stop that! Let go! What . . . what are you . . . .” Then she went limp.

  “Did you hurt her?” Trisha asked with a frown.

  “No. Just rendered her unconscious.”

  Trisha looked down at Audra’s sprawled body. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you sorry?”

  “Because you’ve risked your life, and lost your friend, and we seem to give you nothing but trouble.”

  Iliab shrugged. “I’ve been on worse missions. And this is what I am now. I suppose I’m no longer suited for anything else. Perhaps that’s why I’m so callous.”

  “No, not callous. You forget I was with you when Nathan died.”

  • • •

  Mike sat on a patch of grass and leaned against the corrugated wall of the hangar, listening to the distant sound of pounding waves. This was the spot where he and Trisha sat after Renee’s death. He’d give anything to have Trisha here now. He could think of little else. Even the progress of the P2 mock-up didn’t alter his mood or relieve his agony of mind.

  He had never felt so alone.

  Buck was away, too, somewhere over Mexico heading for a secret CIA landing strip. If the rescue was successful, Buck would fly the women home. Flight plans and rendezvous points had been furnished by the Mossad and cleared by DHS. Still, it was a civilian who had to go. If anything went wrong, DHS didn’t want any of their team found in Mexico.

  Mike had wanted to be the one flying that plane, but he had been overruled by Peter Meyers. The P2 project had first priority, he was told. A fusion powered airplane had military applications and the government was too invested in PA to have something happen to Mike now. While Pete and the government were covering their backsides, Mike stood to lose not only the woman he loved, but his best friend.

  If anything happened, how could he bear losing them both?

  He pulled a black, pocket Bible from his shirt. It had been important to Trisha. Carrying it around made him feel closer to her. When he opened it, a crumpled paper fluttered to the ground. He picked it up. Trisha’s bookmark? Or had she meant for him to find it? It was her handwriting. He quickly read it.

  What is the praise of men

  But grains of sand that shift

  With every passing breeze,

  To form small, barren mounds,

  First here, then there.

  He felt a dull ache in his chest as the words sank in. Everything seemed unimportant now. Even the P2. He carefully folded the paper and slipped it back into the Bible as he thought of what Mrs. Callahan had said.

  Nothing was impossible with God.

  She made having faith sound easy. But it wasn’t easy. Not for him. Just the sincere cry of a longing soul, that’s what she had said it took.

  “Oh God, why? Why did You allow this to happen to the only woman I’ve ever loved?” His eyes narrowed. He had read the Biblical story about how Jacob had wrestled with God. Well, he could identify with that. If that’s what it took, he would wrestle with Him, too. He opened the Bible. “Are you real, God?” He looked toward heaven and shook his fist. “I swear, I won’t leave this place until I find out!”

  • • •

  “Wake up! Come on! Wake up!” Iliab said, shaking the two women who lay sleeping near each other on the cave floor. “I’ve been keeping watch and we’ve got one, possibly two patrols on our tail. According to all the maps I’ve studied, the safest place for a descent is up ahead. That’s where we’ll scale down the mountain to the gorge. And she better not hold us up!” Iliab gestured toward Audra who sat rubbing her face.

  “I’ll try my best, but it’s not my fault I can hardly walk.”

  Iliab bent down and inspected her ankle.

  “Ouch! Stop pressing it! Can’t you see it’s swollen?”

  Without a word, he cut a long strip of material from his shirt then wrapped it around Audra’s ankle.

  Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. “What did you do . . . before . . . ?”

  “I used a three-pressure point technique, to quiet you down.”

  “It felt more like a karate chop. You belted me right behind the ear, didn’t you?”

  “Stop it, Audra,” Trisha snapped. “Iliab isn’t your enemy. He’s doing everything he can to help us.”

  “Who asked you, you prig?” Audra’s eyes flared as though remembering how day after day Mustafa had called her and not Trisha into his office. “I’m sick of everyone telling me what to do.”

  Iliab grabbed Audra’s shoulder. “Get hold of yourself! If you lose it, so help me I’ll knock you out again and leave you! There’s an armed patrol on our heels, not even an hour away. The terrain we must cover today is the most difficult yet. Eat something. And be ready to go in five minutes or stay behind!”

  Audra bit her quivering lip as she unfastened the bag of nuts at her waist. She shoved a handful into her mouth then spit them out. “I can’t eat this. I’m so dry I’ll choke.”

  As Iliab reached for Audra, Trisha grabbed his arm. “Please, Iliab. Give her my water.”

  “I’ll not let her drag us down. Either she cooperates or I’ll kill her myself.”

  Audra jutted her chin. “If I thought you meant it, I’d tell you to go ahead. But you’d leave me behind, for them, for the terrorists to find, wouldn’t you?” With a shaking hand she tied the goatskin bag to her waist as though trying to tie together the raveling ends of her nerves. “But I’ll not give you the satisfaction. Keep your ration, Trisha. I don’t want it. I can manage.”

  Iliab studied Audra, not even trying to conceal his doubt. “Let’s move,” he finally ordered. But his look said he would be watching her closely.

  • • •

  Three long and painful hours later, Audra stood by a steep, jagged drop thinking she should throw herself off and be done with it. The pain in her ankle was unbearable. And relentless. It radiated throughout her entire body, making her want to vomit.

  She could think of nothing else.

  Now, she was faced with having to scale down the side of this rugged bluff. Trisha and Iliab had helped support her along the mountain. But even that would be impossible. It would be every man for himself. She didn’t see how she could make it. It would be easier to just sail through the air and onto the rocks below, mercifully dead.

  The view was hypnotic. And just when she was ready to let go, she saw a pair of tan boots step toward her and stop.

  “You can do this,” Iliab said. “It will be difficult, but you can do it.”

  Audra continued staring at his boots.

  “Miss Shields, we must start no
w. I will go first, then you, then Miss Callahan. I’m putting you between us and we’ll try to help you as much as possible.”

  “Tan boots. He wore tan boots!”

  As Iliab studied her, Audra knew what he was thinking. In a few minutes they would be hanging over the precipice. If she became hysterical it would mean disaster. She could pull both him and Trisha down with her.

  “We must go!” he said sharply.

  “You don’t understand. Tan work-boots! I know who kidnapped me. It was Bubba Hanagan!”

  “You’ll have time to deal with your kidnapper later. But now you must concentrate on the task before you.”

  “Bubba. Bubba Hanagan,” Audra mumbled. She failed to see Iliab’s hand move for his dagger. “Bubba Hanagan,” she repeated. He was the one responsible for those weeks of degradation in Seco Polvo; the one responsible for the nights spent sleeping in dark, uncomfortable caves; for eating out of goatskin sacks like an animal; for trudging over this hostile, rough mountain; for her terrible thirst; for her painful, swollen ankle; and now, for having to dive off this cliff in the hope of putting herself out of her misery. Bubba Hanagan!

  Waves of hatred rolled over her like a tsunami, filling her, inflating her.

  “Iliab!” The sound of Trisha’s frightened voice jolted Audra. When she saw the dagger in his hand, she knew what he was about to do.

  “I cannot leave her for the ISA fighters to find. It would be too cruel.” Iliab took a step closer.

  “Don’t do it,” Audra found herself saying. A moment ago she would have welcomed it. But the adrenaline of hate had pumped her up, revitalized her. “I’m alright. I can make it. I’m sure I can.”

  Iliab’s dagger moved toward Audra’s throat. “She’s a risk and could get us all killed.” He stopped when he saw her hate-filled eyes and squinted as though deciding what to do, then he sheathed the dagger. “Okay, I’ll take the chance. I go first, then you.”

  The descent was slow. Once, Audra stopped and cried from the pain. She needed to use her leg with the bad ankle for balance. Often times it would have to support her entire weight as the other foot probed the rocks for the next safe foothold. More than once she was tempted to give up. But then she’d probe again with her good foot and the group moved further down the incline. The jagged rocks ripped their skin and clothing as they went while Iliab pressed the women to move faster.