T he first bus lumbered around a rocky cleft and stopped as an ancient stone hut came into view. The Iranians had constructed a rough front porch, little more than a raw-plank veranda with a canvas overhang. The porch held a bunk with woven leather straps and a table with one chair. A lone cup steamed on the table. When Josh and his men slipped back in through the bus’s open door, Marc asked, “The guards?”
“Not going anywhere for a while. Locked up tight inside.”
Marc thumbed his comm link. “Hamid?”
“I am here.”
“We’re good to go. Give your men the final check.” He said to their driver, “Move out.”
Eons ago, an earthquake had dislodged a portion of the cliff face. The road threaded its way around boulders larger than the bus and descended to the riverbed. Beside them, the meandering stream flickered in the early light.
Duboe said, “Target is eleven hundred meters ahead.”
Marc said, “Any more guards this side?”
“Nothing moving between us and the perimeter.”
“Check the entire village one last time.”
While Duboe was silent, the buses passed behind yet another giant boulder and entered a narrow sandy patch. Marc keyed his comm link and ordered, “We stop and prep here.”
As the vehicles halted, Duboe said from his screen, “Two guards patrolling near village entrance. Got another on roving patrol, the fourth either asleep in one of the houses or is off the grid.”
Josh muttered, “Not good.”
“We can’t worry about that now,” Marc said. “Keep your eyes open. What else?”
“I make one guard standing to far side of the target building. My guess is the entrance is in the alley and not on the front of the house. A second guard appears to be seated where the building meets the cliff. Legs splayed out, maybe asleep.”
They off-loaded and gathered behind the rear bus. There was no chatter. When they were geared up, Marc keyed his earpiece and said, “Comm link check.” He got a forest of thumbs-up.
Then Hamid said, “We also want to blow up missiles.”
Josh grinned. “My man.”
“This threat is to our country,” Hamid insisted.
Marc said, “Josh and his men are prepared for this type of sortie.”
Hamid bristled, but softly. “What, you think we do not train? We are not ready?”
Josh stepped between them. He clapped Hamid on the shoulder. “Who is your top guy in the field?”
Hamid did not hesitate. “Is me. Then Yussuf.”
Marc said, “I need Hamid on point for the retrieval. Especially now that we’re after kids who don’t speak English.”
“You heard the man,” Josh said. “Tell Yussuf to lock and load.”
Hamid jerked a nod. “Is good.”
Marc said, “I need one of your team with me to balance things.”
“I’ll switch,” offered Duboe.
“That works.”
Josh said to Hamid, “I want a favor in return. Hannah Brimsley.”
“The missionary,” Hamid acknowledged.
“We’re engaged to be married.”
Hamid and Duboe both stared. Hamid asked, “Is true?”
“Anything happens, you tell the lady I loved her to the end and beyond. You got that?”
“End and beyond. Is nice. Warrior’s poetry.” Hamid settled his hand upon Josh’s neck. “Go with God, my friend.”
They stood like that for a moment, Iraqi and American, then Josh stepped back and motioned to Marc. “Maybe you want to step over here with us.”
Seven of them gathered at the border of the pine forest. The air was hushed, the only sound that of water trickling down the stream. Marc fit himself into the circle, and Josh said, “Join up.”
The seven men linked arms around shoulders. Josh started, “God, we’re about to enter the valley, and we ask that you make the shadows our friends.”
Josh kept it short. He hesitated at the end, then offered a special prayer for the lady, but his voice broke over saying the name. So Marc said it for him. Hannah Brimsley. As they disbanded, Marc heard other names being whispered. He added Alex.
Duboe was standing close enough to hear. He started to speak, then shook his head and turned away.
Marc said, “Let’s move.”