by Ethan Jones
He glanced at Rahim. “How are you?”
Rahim looked up. He was bleeding from the left side of his nose. “Alive. I think I broke my nose. Your neck.” He gestured at Javin.
Javin touched the wound. The hot blood stained his hand. The cut had missed the jugular vein, but not by much. Another inch, two at the most, and I would be in big trouble.
He shook his head, then said, “Stay in the SUV.”
“I couldn’t go anywhere even before, remember?” Rahim said. “If my bones weren’t broken before, they are now.”
“Sorry about that,” Javin muttered.
He picked up his rifle, then stepped out of the SUV. He ignored a sharp pain that jabbed through his shoulders and lower back. Javin aimed his rifle at the Land Rover. One of the front tires was still spinning. A small flame had started to burn through the other front tire.
Javin skirted the mangled cabin. The driver’s door was opened, and Ajaz was crawling out. He was bleeding from his face and chest and had no weapons.
Before Javin could approach Ajaz or talk to him, a noise came from the other side of the vehicle. Javin moved quickly and pointed his rifle at a man sliding out of the Land Rover. He wriggled half of his body out of the cabin, then screamed in pain. He tried to turn his body to the side and squeeze out of the crushed door, but he could not, so he once again screamed in pain and cursed Javin by name.
Javin frowned, then shouted at the man, “How do you know me?
The man did not reply.
“Talk to me. Who are you, and how do you know me?”
From the other side of the Land Rover, Ajaz groaned.
Javin looked at the man’s hands. No weapons, and he seemed to be stuck inside the Land Rover. He tried again to move away from the flame that was now nearing the door, but his attempt was unsuccessful. He groaned and cursed again.
Javin’s eyes studied the Land Rover.
No one else was in the backseat or trying to get out of the rolled-over vehicle.
He came around to Ajaz, who was on his back. He was clutching at his chest with his trembling right hand. The left arm was hanging by his side, almost useless. “Help, help . . . me,” Ajaz said in a low weak voice.
Javin crouched next to him. “Ajaz, why did you do this?”
Ajaz grinned and a trickle of blood came out of his mouth. “You brought me here . . . to die. Is it strange that I wanted to live?”
Javin nodded. “I wasn’t going to hand you over. Once we met Erkan, I would—”
“It doesn’t matter now. Take . . . help me,” Ajaz’s voice turned wheezy. “And I’ll give you the password for the drive—”
“He’s lying to you,” the other man shouted. “I’m Erkan. I’ve given you the files and—”
“Shut up, just shut up,” Ajaz cried, but there was not much strength left in his voice.
Javin cocked his head toward the man claiming to be Erkan, then asked Ajaz, “Is he telling the truth?”
“Yes, yes, I am,” the man shouted, then cursed the fact that he was stuck in the door of the Land Rover. “I sent you the document about the pipeline deal. It was in the email draft—”
“No, he’s lying to you. That was a forged docum—”
“It was real, it was—”
“Quiet, quiet, both of you,” Javin shouted. “We’re not going to sort this out right now. Where’s the drive?”
“Here, I have it,” Ajaz said.
“Where?”
“My pocket.” Ajaz moved his hand to the other side of his chest.
Javin reached in, unbuttoned the pocket, and retrieved the drive. As he was bringing his hand out, Ajaz held Javin’s arm with his bloodied hand. “Help me, please—”
A gunshot cut off his words.
A bullet slammed into his left side. Blood spurted out of Ajaz’s mouth, and his head fell to the side.
Javin glanced at Ajaz’s empty eyes, then turned his rifle toward Erkan.
Another bullet struck inches away from Javin’s right leg.
He fired at the rear of the Land Rover where Erkan’s head had just popped out. Javin squeezed off round after round. Bullets pierced the Land Rover.
And then the vehicle exploded into a large fireball.
Javin rolled onto his stomach as scorching metal pieces rained over the entire area. A few fragments fell onto his back and legs. His bulletproof vest protected him for the most part, and he brushed off the sharp pieces stabbing at his legs. One of them burned a hole through his pants leg. He bit his lip as the piece singed his skin.
He lay there for a long moment until the hail stopped. Then he turned slowly and looked at the black smoke billowing from the burning wreck. Erkan could not have escaped the explosion alive. Still, Javin had to make absolutely sure Erkan presented no threat.
Javin looked at Ajaz. He was no longer breathing. Even if Erkan’s bullet had not taken his life, a large section of the Land Rover’s door had cut through the lower part of his body.
Javin climbed to his feet and walked slowly around the Land Rover.
The silhouette of a man was engulfed in flames, and the flames were turning it slowly into ashes.
Javin shook his head and glanced toward his SUV. Then his eyes went further down the road. Faint headlights glowed in the distance.
Javin sighed and tightened his grip around his rifle. All right, who else is joining this bloody party?
Chapter Thirty-three
Outskirts of Deraa City
Syria
Javin knelt by the front of the SUV and aimed his C8SFW assault rifle at the oncoming vehicle. It resembled a truck, like the one Saif’s associate had been driving. Maybe that’s Claudia and Saif? Syria was full of Toyota trucks that seemed to be almost everyone’s favorite.
“Give me a gun,” Rahim shouted.
Javin shook his head. “Be quiet.”
“But I can help.”
“Yes, by being quiet.”
The truck began to slow down.
Javin recognized the bullet-ridden Toyota truck and Claudia even before she jumped out.
She ran toward him and fell into his arms. “Oh, Javin, I . . . I thought you were . . . when I saw the Rover in flames.”
Javin held her tight, experiencing a strange feeling. It was the first time he had held a woman so close since Steffi’s funeral. He felt a bit uncomfortable, but did not break the embrace.
When Claudia stepped back, Javin said, “I’m doing well, for the most part.”
“You’re bleeding.” She pointed at his neck and hands.
“That’s minor, and this isn’t my blood.” Javin cocked his head toward Ajaz’s body.
“Let me have a look. What happened here?”
“Ajaz wanted to play a game of chicken.” Javin shrugged. “They swerved at the last moment, but we still crashed.”
Claudia ran her fingers along Javin’s neck as she studied his wound. “But he didn’t die in the crash, did he?”
“No, Erkan shot him by mistake while firing at me.”
“Erkan was here?” Claudia peered into Javin’s eyes.
“Yes, well, that’s what he said.”
“And he’s dead?”
Javin nodded. “Died in the explosion. But I got the drive before everything blew up.”
“Let me try his phone.”
Claudia dialled Erkan’s number. After a long moment, she shook her head. “No answer.”
“We’ll try again.”
“I’ll take his fingerprints in case—”
“I don’t think you can. There’s not much left of him. The fire . . .”
Claudia nodded. “Well, I can take care of you then. Let’s go.”
“How’s Saif?”
“Alive, but unconscious. We need to get him to a hospital or a doctor, or he’ll die. How about him?” She pointed at Rahim.
“He’s okay. Broken leg and arm. Nothing serious.”
“Really? Nothing serious?” Rahim said in a dramatic voice.
> “Didn’t you say it was nothing a few minutes ago?” Javin said to him.
“That was before we crashed into them.” Rahim tipped his head toward the charred wreck. “I think I dislodged a disc in the middle of my back.”
Javin grinned. “What, are you a doctor now?”
Rahim shrugged. “I can feel it cutting through my skin.”
Javin shook his head. “You know, you complain too much.”
Rahim opened his mouth, but Javin stopped him with a wave of his hand. “I’ve heard enough. Now be useful and find us a doctor. You said you have a rich father. Have him find a doctor for you and our friend.”
Rahim nodded. “I need a phone.”
Claudia handed him one.
Javin stepped closer to Rahim. “Watch your words. Nothing stupid or in code.”
“You don’t have to say it.”
“In case you get ideas.”
Rahim dialed a number from memory.
Claudia walked around the Land Rover, while Javin stood near Rahim. He listened carefully to the tense conversation between a reckless son and his worried father. The man, whom Rahim always addressed as Hamidi, gladly agreed to meet them in thirty minutes near the southern outskirts of Deraa City.
Javin did not give Rahim the exact address of their rendezvous with Hamidi. While he might be a distraught father trying to save his son, Hamidi could take his desire to the extreme and try to intervene with a heavy hand. Javin asked for a doctor and a driver, but Hamidi might have different ideas.
The other reason for Javin’s vagueness was the fact that he was not sure of the best meeting point. He was familiar with the area’s layout, as he had studied it before the operation, planning for contingencies. None of those plans included a prolonged stay outside the city. We’ll see what we can find that’ll serve the purpose.
Claudia suggested moving Rahim to the truck and Javin agreed. She knew what to look for and how to transfer Rahim without reinjuring his wounded body. Traveling in one vehicle gave them a smaller footprint than being in a convoy.
When Rahim had been placed next to Saif, Claudia got behind the wheel. They headed south, staying away from the main roads. Javin and Claudia were both looking for the right place to stop and meet the doctor. In the best-case scenario, it would be a safehouse or a series of buildings that were inspected and cleared of any gunmen or threats, including unexploded devices. But the team had no time, so it would have to make do with an abandoned building or a vacant house.
In about five minutes, they came to something that looked promising. It was a couple of small, one-story cinderblock houses near a fork in the dirt road, about a mile from the edge of the city. One of the houses looked scorched; the second one had large gaps in one of the walls. “How about that?” Javin asked.
“Looks good,” Rahim said.
Javin glanced at him. “You know the place?”
Rahim nodded. “We used it as a base.”
“Until when?”
“A week or so ago, when it was attacked.”
“What happened?”
“Government dogs tried to ambush us, but we left before they arrived. So they burned the place down.”
“No one’s there now?” Claudia asked.
Rahim shook his head. “Correct, the houses are empty.”
“Are they booby-trapped?”
“Well, they were, but everything should have blown up by now. The army has cleared the houses.”
Javin frowned. “You know where the explosives are placed, in case they’re still there?”
“Yes, I can find them.”
“Good, if they blow up, you’ll be the first one to die.”
“Yes, yes, I get it.”
Claudia turned toward the houses and parked when she was about thirty yards away from the scorched one. The ground was covered with shells, and there were deep vehicle tracks. Javin waited for a long moment, observing the houses.
“It’s clear,” Rahim said.
“Shhhhh,” Claudia said.
There was no movement.
Javin stepped out with his rifle at the ready. He kept his eyes glued on the house, covering all the angles. He glanced at the ground for unusual items—wires or objects sticking out. Nothing caught his eye, so he made his way to the house.
He turned on the tactical light mounted on his rifle, then entered the house. The bright beam cut through the darkness, revealing debris that littered the floor and bullet-ridden walls. He stepped carefully around tattered clothes and flags, spent cartridge casings, broken furniture, chunks of rubble, and heaps of garbage.
Javin cleared the first two rooms, then the next one at the back, noticing small craters on the cement floor, near some of the walls, clear signs of bomb explosions. He glanced at the second, smaller house and made his way toward it. Claudia had his back, so he focused on clearing the house. It was in a state of disarray, like the previous one. A large gap was in one of the walls. Javin wondered if this was from another one of the exploded bombs the jihadists had left behind.
When he reached the back, Javin walked around. The houses were abandoned and would offer reasonable protection for the short period of time that his team needed. He nodded to himself. Yes, this may work.
He circled the houses and returned to Claudia. “It’s all clear.”
“Explosives?”
“Not that I could see. But then, he’ll be our guinea pig, if we move things around.”
Rahim cocked his head, apparently not understanding the expression. “What?”
“You’ll help us find the bombs, if there are any,” Javin said. Then he turned to Claudia again. “Call Hamidi. He should send only the doctor and the driver in one vehicle. No one else.”
Claudia nodded. “Right away.”
“Let’s go,” Javin said to Rahim. “We’ve got to get the place ready before company comes.”
Chapter Thirty-four
One mile south of Deraa City
Syria
Company arrived in two vehicles: a black truck with a whitish SUV behind.
Javin frowned. Whenever people failed to follow the simplest instructions, they often ignored all of them, even the important ones. Like the number of people in the vehicles, or that they were coming in peace.
Claudia glanced at Javin, who had taken position near the gap where once the house door had stood. “Double the trouble, eh?”
Javin shook his head. “I wish people would just listen.”
“What are we going to do with him?” She tipped her head toward Rahim, who was handcuffed to one of the exposed concrete bars of the wall. He had refused so strongly to be restrained that Javin had had no choice but to gag Rahim.
“Nothing. We make sure they’re friendly—well, at least not hostile—then the doctor does his job, first on Saif, then on Rahim.”
Claudia nodded. Saif was stable, for the moment, but had lost a large amount of blood. The doctor would need to remove the two bullets lodged in Saif’s abdomen and leg and stitch the wounds. Even if the procedure went without any glitches, Saif was not out of the woods. If he did not receive proper medical treatment in a well-equipped hospital, he could still die.
She sighed and realigned her assault rifle on the white SUV. The driver had just stopped next to the team’s battered vehicle, about twenty yards away from their position. He stepped outside, then swung his AK assault rifle around. He was a big, burly man with a long thick beard and dressed in a dark greenish robe.
The front passenger also got out of the vehicle. He was tall and thin and was wearing a black-framed pair of glasses. A large green duffel bag with the Red Crescent logo was hanging from his right hand.
Two bearded gunmen stood next to the truck. The older of the pair—a man perhaps in his early sixties—held a light PKM machine gun, which he pointed at the house.
Javin drew in a deep breath, then called out in Arabic, “Doctor, come in.”
The driver glanced at Javin and replied, “Where’s Rahim?�
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“Inside, waiting for the doctor.”
The driver stepped forward and gestured for the doctor to follow him.
Javin shouted, “Only the doctor.”
The gunman shouted, “We’re here so that Rahim—”
Javin cut him off. “You’re delaying Rahim’s treatment. You want to explain to Hamidi that his son died while you were arguing with me?”
“I have my orders.”
“Well, start following them. Let the doctor in.”
The driver frowned and cursed. He moved his rifle from one hand to the other, then tapped his foot on the ground. His mental gears were at work, and he needed to make his decision fast.
Javin glanced at Claudia.
She nodded at him. “He’ll do it.”
The driver took another long moment, then gave the doctor a light shove. “Go, go.”
Javin’s lips formed a small smile. His eyes followed the doctor slowly making his way to the house. When he was about ten steps away from them, Javin held up his right hand and said, “Stop. Right there.”
The doctor froze. “What . . . what did I do?” he asked in a high-pitched nervous voice.
“Nothing. Show me the bag.”
“It has my tools for the patient—”
“Open it up.”
The doctor shrugged and crouched to one knee. He unbuckled and unzipped the bag, then showed the contents to Javin. A few scalpels and other medical instruments glinted under his rifle’s blue light beam.
Javin said, “Good. Now stand up and lift up your robe.”
“Is this necessary?” The doctor’s voice had taken on a tone of clear disgust.
“It is.”
“You’re treating me like a terrorist.”
Javin shrugged. He wanted to point out the obvious, but it would make no difference. “Just do it.”
“Fine.”
The doctor showed Javin his undergarments. There was no explosive vest or belt, and he carried no weapons. “Are we good now?”
“Yes, very good. Approach.”
The doctor sighed, closed his briefcase, and reached the house.
“Keep walking, slowly,” Javin said.
