Counterblow

by Ethan Jones

  “Thank you so much.”

  The old man nodded and limped inside the house through the front.

  Javin turned the car around and drove toward the riverbank. He lowered the window and waved at his teammates, so that they wouldn’t mistake him for a militant and open fire.

  They recognized him and came out of the reeds. In a matter of seconds, everyone was in the sedan, and Javin turned around. He threw a last glance at the river and the smoke still billowing from the other side. He listened, but heard no gunshots, and no silhouettes were roaming along the edge of the river. Maybe they’ve lost track of us. Or perhaps they don’t dare to venture across the river.

  Javin explained to his team about the old man, and they stopped at the house. The man and his wife gave them clothes, and they all changed. Javin wore a tan camouflage jacket and pants that he had a feeling had belonged to the old man’s son. The pants were long, and the jacket was snug around his broad shoulders, but he wasn’t about to complain.

  The old man could barely hold back tears when he saw them. He leaned in for a tight embrace, then kissed Javin on both cheeks before letting him go. Javin said, “I’ll bring back the car and the clothes.”

  The old man shrugged. “You don’t have to.”

  “I know, but I will.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Javin hesitated for a moment, then said, “We want to cross into Iraq.”

  “The best place is up north, about five kilometers away. There’s a couple of army trucks, scorched, on the left side of the road. Take this street and head out of the village. Just beyond the mosque, turn right. You’ll get to a road east of Al-Sufah.”

  “Border guards? Patrols?”

  “No, not usually, not at this time of night.”

  Javin said, “Five kilometers at the burned trucks.”

  “Yes.”

  They waved goodbye and drove up the narrow street. Most of the village was still dark, lit only by the faint moon and the occasional dim light bulbs on makeshift streetlights. Javin rounded the small mosque, its minaret piercing the sky. They got onto the two-lane asphalt road and began driving north.

  When they reached the point indicated by the old man, Javin glanced at the hulks of the trucks. A small sedan was driving from the other direction, and Javin slid his rifle across the steering wheel, readying for battle. But the car kept driving.

  He heaved a sigh of relief and looked at Chen in the front passenger seat. “This is it.” He gestured with his right hand. “We turn here, then we drive through the desert until we’re in Iraq.”

  “Then what?” Wu asked from the backseat.

  Javin tried to remember the map of the area. “The Euphrates meanders down south and east. We’ll make our way to the Al-Qaim base, which is about twenty kilometers away, to the south.”

  “An Iraqi base?” Li asked in a worried tone.

  “Used to be an American base, but it was handed over to Iraq, after ISIS terrorists were defeated and scattered. I’ll make a few calls and get us in. Tomorrow, we can hopefully reach Baghdad. Then, you can get out of the country.”

  “What about you?”

  Javin smiled. “I’m staying in Iraq. I have some unfinished business.”

  It was more pleasure than business, but he didn’t want to share that with his teammates. He hadn’t planned it this way, but it just happened. He was going to Mosul, to meet Liberty.

  Javin drove through the vast swath of desert. The Mercedes-Benz handled most of the broken terrain quite well as he avoided most dips and dives. He wasn’t sure if they had crossed into Iraq, as there were no fences or border markings, until they came to an asphalt road. A blue sign in Arabic and English indicated the town of Al-Qaim fifteen kilometers south.

  “Welcome to Iraq,” he said in a warm tone.

  “Who controls this area?” Chen asked.

  “The Iraqi Army and some PMU forces.”

  “What’s that?” Wu asked.

  “The Popular Mobilization Units. They’re Shiite-led and Iranian-backed, but most are loyal to the Iraqi government.”

  “Let’s hope that’s the case,” Li said in a worried voice.

  Javin nodded. “Yes, let’s keep our eyes open.”

  They continued south until they came to a bridge over the Euphrates River. There were no checkpoints, so they crossed to the other side without any problems. Javin had brought up a map on his phone, and they drove through a couple of villages. The night was mostly quiet, but they came across the occasional vehicle or people going about their business. A few of the men were armed, the rifles hoisted on their shoulders. They threw curious glances at the Mercedes-Benz, but none of them approached the team.

  Eventually, they reached Highway 12 and headed toward the east. Traffic was still scarce, and they drove past fuel trucks and taxis. A couple of Iraqi Army military vehicles came from the opposite direction, but they ignored the battered sedan.

  Javin called a general stationed in Mosul, who agreed to pull a few strings and secure Javin and his team permission to stay for the night at the Al-Qaim base. It was just going to take a while.

  Javin and his team stopped about five kilometers away from the base, waiting for the general’s call. The CIS operative couldn’t stand still, so he paced up and down the sandy trail. While they were no longer in danger, they weren’t out of the woods yet.

  The call came an hour later. They could stay at the base until noon the next day.

  Javin gave the good news to his team. Chen nodded slowly, a smile forming on his tired face.

  “What about the drone?” Li asked, gesturing at the laptop in the backseat.

  The drone had been on autopilot since after they had used it to scare the fighters pursuing them.

  Javin said, “We can’t have it linked to us. Crash it into the river, somewhere deep, so it takes them a while to fish it out. Then, let’s ditch all the gear.”

  “And the rifles?” Wu said.

  “Leave only one, for Chen.” Javin said. “So it fits our cover story. You and I,” he said to Chen, “are the bodyguards. Wu and Li and poor Keung are businessmen. We fell into an ambush, and the thugs stripped us of almost everything. Some good soul had mercy on us and provided us with clothes, a couple of weapons, and a car.”

  “They shouldn’t ask questions, though…” Chen said with a frown.

  “They shouldn’t, but they might, so we need to be prepared. Pretend not to know English, and that will go a long way.”

  Javin drove to the base, still tense and expecting something terrible to happen at any moment.

  It didn’t, and he was glad to be proven wrong for a change.

  Still, he didn’t relax until they were beyond the thick concertina wire-topped, concrete barrier walls of the base.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Al-Qaim Base

  Iraq

  Javin slept on the floor of a cramped trailer next to tools and supplies along with Chen. The CIS operative didn’t mind the rough conditions. He had seen worse. He used a sandbag for a pillow, and one of the Iraqi soldiers brought them threadbare blankets. At first, he just couldn’t go to sleep, maybe because of Chen’s snoring. Javin kept his rifle next to him and his pistol inches away from his right hand, just in case. Eventually, the exhaustion took over his body, and he plunged into a deep sleep.

  He awoke to loud shouts coming from the yard. He turned onto his back, feeling numbness over half of his body, the half resting against the steel floor. He sat up and looked at Chen, still sound asleep. Javin collected his belongings—rucksack and duffel bag, AK rifle and Makarov pistol—and stepped outside, trying to make as little noise as possible when unbolting and opening the door.

  The sunrays almost blinded him, and he drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air. The sun began to warm his still stiff body, while flies buzzed around his ears. He stretched and walked toward the barracks, looking for the washrooms. One of the Iraqi guards pointed him in the right directio
n.

  When he had freshened himself up, Javin found one of the captains. He had been briefed about Javin’s situation, the cover story that he had shared with his Mosul contact, and didn’t ask a lot of questions. He was eager to escort the foreigners out of the base as soon as possible, but he couldn’t forget the Arab hospitality. When he offered Javin a cup of coffee and breakfast, the Canadian accepted whole-heartedly.

  At the mess hall near the other end of the base, the team enjoyed freshly brewed coffee, two hardboiled eggs each, yellow lentil soup, and a basket full of bread. Javin wolfed down everything, even swiping the bowl clean and not hesitating when asked if he wanted more. It was the only decent meal they had enjoyed in the last twenty-four hours.

  The Mosul general hadn’t been able to arrange for a flight out of the base, so Javin and his team would have to drive to Baghdad, about four hundred kilometers south. The Chinese would take the first flight out of the country. Javin planned to continue to Mosul, another four hundred kilometers north. It was going to be a long day, but it was worth it so he could spend at least one day with Liberty.

  He was torn between surprising her or giving her a call. He didn’t want to risk arriving at the camp and not finding her there. She might be in Erbil or another one of the nearby cities for a meeting or to purchase supplies. So, before leaving the base, he decided to call her.

  Liberty answered after the third ring.

  Javin said, “Liberty, honey, how are you?”

  “Oh, Javin, babe, I didn’t think I’d hear from you…”

  “Well, you’ll also get to see me…”

  “Oh, when?” Her voice jumped with excitement.

  “Tonight, if everything goes well.”

  “Wow, that would be wonderful, Javin. I’ve missed you so much. And…” Her voice trailed off.

  “What?”

  “I’ll tell you later. When will you be here?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. I’m a few hours away from Mosul.”

  “But you’re coming tonight?”

  “That’s my plan, barring any complications. But I’ll call you if anything happens.”

  “I hope it doesn’t.” Liberty’s voice grew quiet. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Yeah, I’ve missed you too, honey.”

  “How long are you staying?”

  “Twenty-four hours. I still have one last thing to finish.”

  “Oh, I thought you were done.”

  “Not quite. But soon, it’ll be over.”

  “Okay, twenty-four hours is better than nothing.” She sighed.

  “How’s everything?”

  “Eh, some days are good, and some aren’t. But overall, I think it’s getting better. We got some help from another camp that’s closing down. About a dozen or so workers, four of them security guards, extra supplies. Well, not exactly extra, but more than we had thought.”

  “And security?”

  “About the same. Now that we know the trouble spots, we just try to stay away. And the extra guards are helping with patrols. Some of the camp residents are also assisting, since they’ve had enough. It’s good.”

  Javin nodded. He liked Liberty’s restrained optimism. Before he could add anything else, he heard footsteps behind him. Javin turned around and saw the Iraqi captain approaching him. Javin put the phone close to his chest. “Yes?” he asked the captain.

  “You’ll have to leave. Now.”

  Javin frowned. “I thought we had until noon.”

  “Change of plans. You must leave right away.”

  “Okay. One minute.”

  The captain said nothing but stared at Javin.

  He turned his back to the captain and spoke on the phone in a low voice, “I don’t have much time, but I wanted to tell you that I… I love you, sweetheart.”

  “I love you too, Javin. See you soon.”

  “Yes, bye.”

  He ended the call and looked at the captain, who gestured with his head. “This way.”

  “Can I get my team first?” He cocked his head toward the barracks.

  “They’re already in the car, waiting for you.”

  Javin wondered about the change in the captain’s attitude. Maybe someone else is visiting the base, and he doesn’t want us here when that happens… He shrugged and followed the captain’s hurried pace. When he came near the entrance to the base, Javin stopped. He remembered he didn’t ask Liberty if she heard anything about her transfer request. He couldn’t recall if she’d hear from her director today or the next day. Or was it yesterday? I should call her again. He shook his head. I’ll wait until tonight, and she can tell me…

  “We’ve got to go,” the captain said in a gruff tone.

  “What’s the rush? Who’s visiting the base?” Javin asked as he headed toward the Mercedes-Benz.

  The captain’s face froze for a moment, but he recovered and shook his head. “It doesn’t involve you…”

  “Well, thanks for the hospitality. Allah Yehfazak.” God bless you.

  “God bless you too,” the captain said.

  He shook Javin’s hand, then closed the door as soon as Javin got into the driver’s seat.

  He started the car and drove through the open gate.

  “What was their rush?” he asked Chen in the front passenger seat.

  “Top-level leaders from the PMU are coming for a meeting.”

  Javin frowned. “PMU, yes, that makes sense. He doesn’t want the Iranians to find us here.”

  “Do they suspect we’re involved in the drone attack?”

  “It’s not a big stretch of the imagination to put two and two together. The timing can hardly be a coincidence. I doubt anyone saw our faces and could identify us, but there are too many coincidences.”

  “True,” Chen said.

  Javin nodded. “If the soldiers haven’t heard anything about what happened last night, they’ll find out soon. Word spreads amazingly fast.”

  “I’ll get online and see if there’s any chatter,” Li said.

  Javin drove along Highway 12, while Li scrolled and tapped on his phone. “There are pictures of the aftermath on Twitter. Not sure what the words say…” He showed the phone to Javin.

  He held it with his left hand while he kept driving. “They say it was Syrian rebels attacking the Iranian positions. The Americans were also involved.”

  He scrolled down the screen and read some of the other posts. None of them mentioned anything about the Mossad operatives. Maybe they have no idea who they are. Or the Iranians wouldn’t want that news to come out…

  He kept driving toward Baghdad, thinking about his next steps. He’d have to brief Matthias on the status of the operation. Then, he’d call Mila and update her. He’d have to check with her on where things were regarding Tarasov. I’ll have to fly to Toronto and help find him. He frowned, as thinking of Toronto reminded him of Bateaux. I haven’t heard from him, but sooner or later, I will. I better prepare myself and get my story straight. He drew in a deep breath. But let’s reach Baghdad first.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Baghdad

  Iraq

  Javin hugged his team members like brothers before they parted ways at the Baghdad International Airport. He promised to come and see them as soon as it was possible. Someone in Beijing would bring them the rest of the money, like the first time. He told them that he owed them his life, as he wouldn’t have been able to pull this off on his own.

  When they began to go through security, Javin waved goodbye and returned to his Mercedes-Benz. He filled up at a gas station on Airport Street and headed north, driving toward Mosul. After he got onto Highway 1 and left the city behind, he reached for one of the phones he had purchased at an electronics store outside Sadr City in Baghdad and called Matthias’s number. The Mossad operative picked up and spoke in Hebrew in a guarded tone, “Who are you looking for?”

  “Is this Matthias?”

  “Who are you?”

  “It’s me, Javin, Javin Pierc
e.”

  “Javin, yes, Javin who blew up the convoy,” Matthias said in a loud, triumphant voice.

  “Oh, so it seems to be old news now…”

  “Maybe, but it’s excellent news. All four operatives are dead.”

  “Where did you hear that? Nothing in the militants’ chat about Mossad agents…”

  “Yes, and there’s a good reason for that.”

  Matthias’s voice trailed off, and Javin heard static for a moment, and the signal seemed to disappear. So he said, “Can you hear me? Still there?”

  “Yes, you cut out there for a moment. Now I can hear you.”

  “What’s the reason?”

  “A back-up team.”

  “What?” Javin said in a startled voice.

  “Yes, I had no idea either. They were following the Jeep at a distance of about 5k. They didn’t expect the drone strike, and, by the time they reached the site, all they could do was retrieve the operatives’ bodies.”

  Javin heaved a sigh of relief. He had wondered about the bodies and the reactions when or if it became widely known that they were Mossad operatives. “Where’s the backup team?”

  “They retreated to the US base in Al-Zkuf.”

  “How’s Mossad interpreting what happened?”

  “They’re still gathering intel. The back-up team reported a series of explosions that struck the Jeep and the convoy. It appears the operatives came upon Colonel Dabiri unexpectedly. They were still able to get the job done, and he’s dead, along with some of his closest associates.”

  Javin didn’t want to bring up the fact that he had seen the Mossad agents embracing the Iranians they were supposed to assassinate and the duffel bag full of US dollars. Whatever intelligence they were selling to the Iranians ended with their death.

  “So, Mossad is happy with their operation?”

  “With the elimination of Dabiri? Of course. They’re fuming mad about the dead operatives, vowing to find out exactly what happened. An IDF attack might be in the works, to obliterate whatever is being built by the Iranians in that area.”

  Javin nodded. “Good thing I’m out of there.”