Asset Seven Read online

  Vic unclipped the mic and headphones and rubbed his face with his hands. Washington and Langley wouldn’t sanction the drone due to the risk of interception from the Iranians on the ground. The CIA liaison at the National Security Agency at Fort Meade however, was tasking satellites to collect any available intel that they could to help the Team successfully extract the Asset. While this would help, there was nothing like having a Pred with a couple of Hellfires or the real-time surveillance capabilities of a Global Hawk to provide a comfort blanket on a difficult exfil. He sighed, stood and thought through their options. It seemed to Vic that they were saddled with one available course of action and that was to wait for the RV 2 trigger then go in and grab Seven. Which was all very well in theory but with a sizeable pursuing force and no real-time intel on their locations, it was hardly ideal. Losing troops in Iranian territory was not an option. Yes, the Team’s weapons, ammunition and even their clothing had been sanitized so that nothing could be linked to a US Military operation, but they all knew Tehran would make massive capital out of any dead or wounded combatant they recovered from the field. Sanitized or not, the Iranians would know full well that they had disrupted a covert US Military operation in their own country.

  He made his way over to Dwight and pointed at the laptop that lay open. Dwight nodded and Vic began looking at the mapping of the area around RV 2. He needed to find somewhere the birds could put down as close to the RV as possible. He wanted the Team to have as little exposure on the ground as possible. Up here, it wasn’t just bombs and bullets they had to worry about. Altitude was a factor, and nobody really knew how badly it affected them until they were at height. A fall leading to broken bones would disable a man and tie up a couple of his buddies as they helped him. And between the loose rocks, the snow, and the ice patches they would encounter, there were plenty of ways for a man to fall. His mind wandered to Bill Howard’s conversation with him back in the Green Zone. That’s some pretty tough fucking country up there my friend. Had to hand it to the man, he’d known what he was talking about.

  He turned his attention back to the map and studied the contours and relief, transposing a mental picture of the ground based on the representations on the imagery. There was definitely nowhere suitable for the birds within a kilometer of RV 2, so he began looking further out until he’d identified a small plateau, high on a glacier. It was just over three klicks from RV 2 but was the best he could find. Vic checked once again to make sure that he hadn’t missed anything but found nothing else. So be it. If that’s all we’ve got, then that’s all we’ve got. He looked around and caught Ned’s attention, beckoning him over. He wanted the Delta operator’s opinion before contacting the pilots with the coordinates. As Ned approached him, Vic reflected that if anything went wrong on this extraction, it was going to go very wrong. Fifty klicks inside Iran and with a three-kilometer hike back to the birds? Bill’s words came back to haunt him once again. You said potential goat-fuck Foley. He looked up as Ned arrived and indicated for him to sit down by the laptop.

  ‘Okay, as you can see, I’ve struggled to get a good LZ for the birds but what I have found is a small, flat area here that looks pretty good. Problem is, it’s three klicks from RV 2.’

  Ned leaned in and studied the area on the screen before replying. ‘Yep. I don’t see any other alternatives either.’

  Vic traced his finger on the screen as he continued his brief. ‘Path of least resistance from RV 2 to our potential LZ. Still pretty tough country but the best we can hope for. Seven should be coming along that route with his heels on fire so hopefully we’ll meet him half-way and help cover his ass back to the LZ.’

  ‘Sounds good… in theory. Once we engage with the Iranians, we can expect to see air support and ground reinforcements up there. And what about this side? They got anyone they can call on to come at our six?’

  Vic nodded and met the Master Sergeant’s eyes. ‘Yep. They’ve bought some major influence in Diyala and some of the other provinces and I know for a fact there are a handful of senior Quds officers a helicopter ride away. So that’s something we have to consider.’

  ‘Plan?’

  Vic ran his hands through his hair, feeling the resistance from the matted clumps. ‘I paid Faisal a pretty big bonus back at ANGELO. At my request him and a bunch of his commandos will run interference on any assholes trying to sneak up on our rear. It’ll get very political very quickly after that, but it will buy us enough time to be off this fucking mountain and back at a FOB.’

  Ned gave the CIA man a grin. ‘Shit Vic, you almost sound like you know what you’re doing.’

  Vic laughed. ‘Just bluffing it like the rest of us brother.’ His attention was diverted as he saw Dwight waving his arm at him. He walked over and knelt beside him. Dwight pointed to an area on the screen and began his brief.

  ‘From NSA, there’s two groups on this side of that peak and from time comparisons it looks like they’re moving towards one another. Also, they think there was an explosion of some kind with dead and or injured.’

  Vic frowned. He didn’t understand why there would be two groups moving towards one another. Unless… He patted Dwight’s shoulder. ‘What chatter are you picking up? Does it sound like you’ve got two distinct groups operating different systems?’

  Dwight shook his head. ‘Nope. Definitely same comms and I’d say from the patterns, they are talking to each other.’

  Vic nodded his thanks and stood, making his way back towards Ned. The Delta operator looked up and raised his eyebrows in response to Vic’s return. The CIA man remained standing and pointed to the east.

  ‘Looks like they’ve got two groups trying to box Seven in. Also looks like our boy is holding his own; Meade reckons there’s been an explosion and casualties but no sign of choppers to extract the hunters, which there would be if they’d got their guy.’

  Ned folded his arms as he considered the update. ‘Sounds feasible. But if there’s a group in front of him and a group behind, how the fuck is he going to make to RV 2? Unless he can sneak through their line, he’s not going to make it as quickly as we’d thought.’

  Vic turned his gaze to the peaks in the east and imagined Seven scrambling among the snow and shattered rocks, being hunted by determined pursuers hungry for blood. He didn’t know how Seven was going to make it to RV 2 but did know that it was the Asset’s only chance.

  And Vic’s if he had any hope of halting an attack on the mainland US.

  13

  ZAGROS MOUNTAINS, IRAN

  The rage in the General’s eyes was intimidating even to a man of Hashemi’s standing. As the last rock was placed on the mound that covered the bodies of the dead Palang students, Hashemi watched as General Shir-Del turned to address the Quds teams assembled in a small huddle.

  ‘The traitor Ardavan has shown us that he cannot be underestimated. Shown us what little regard he has for his fellow soldiers and what love he has for the great Shaitan that he would kill his own kind to get closer to the Americans. Every minute we waste, the traitor gets closer to his CIA spymasters. Grieve our dead but grieve them by bringing me the head of this vile snake.’

  Hashemi saw the anger mirrored in the hunters’ faces and the resolve to carry out the General’s bidding. As the General approached him, Hashemi cleared his throat before addressing the senior officer.

  ‘General Shir-Del. I think now might be the time to request assistance from Headquarters. If the traitor Ardavan isn’t caught soon, I fear that…’ His request was cut short by the intense blue eyes staring hard at his own.

  ‘You have nothing to fear, Hashemi. The traitor will be caught, and he will be caught soon. He was only a matter of minutes ahead of us before his cowardly attack and we will soon shorten that small advantage.’

  Hashemi’s eyes widened in surprise as the General turned and walked back to his equipment, donning his pack and weapons with a fixed determination. Doubt was now a permanent companion to Hashemi’s thoughts, and he felt his mout
h dry at the thought of the repercussions if Ardavan escaped. His masters back in Tehran would be apoplectic at the success of an American coup of this magnitude and Hashemi would be held accountable for the entire situation. As the senior VAJA officer on task, the responsibility for keeping Tehran updated and involved in the manhunt was his alone. However, the punishment would not be meted out to only himself. When a failing as big as this came about, the punishments were wrought upon immediate and even distant family. A trickle of sweat ran down his spine at the thought of his wife and daughters undergoing torture in the dank, stinking cells below Alf Ta, the notorious prison in Isfahan where they would be taken. The General would probably only be executed for his role, due to his reputation and the respect for his position, but Hashemi would suffer much more. He sighed as he picked up his own pack, hoping that the General was right and that this would all be over soon, and they could inform Tehran of their success in halting a CIA operation against their glorious Republic. As he tightened the straps on his pack, it came to Hashemi that he now really only had one weapon in his arsenal with which he had any use for:

  Hope.

  Zana scanned the rocks and peaks around him as they continued to follow the herders’ path as it twisted around monoliths and sheer walls of stone. The men were much more alert after the IED trap that Ardavan had lured them into. The small fire and its trail of woodsmoke enticing the hunters to trigger a pressure-pad initiated device, killing two and wounding three others. Zana had ordered the dead men buried on the mountain and the three injured to remain at the site along with a medic and two guards. He’d made it clear to the medic that no outside help would be coming before the traitor had been captured and stared hard at the younger man until he’d seen that his unspoken message had been understood; do all you can but don’t let them suffer. The soldier with the wounds to his pelvis was in extreme agony and from experience, Zana knew that he was unlikely to survive the afternoon. But the focus had to remain on capturing the traitor. Although killing the swine with his bare hands and parading the body through the streets was what he dreamed of doing, the tortures and interrogations that awaited Ardavan motivated Zana to taking his man alive.

  The light was beginning to fade as evening approached and for the first time, a tiny element of doubt began creeping into the edges of Zana’s thoughts. He couldn’t allow Ardavan the advantage of darkness and he cursed himself for not having the foresight to have brought tracker dogs on the hunt. They would have been of great value in closing the distance with the traitor but then again, Zana would have had to have gone outside the unit for this asset and that would have raised questions of its own. No, his own men would bring this to an end and bring it to an end soon. But the thought of tracker dogs had sparked something in his mind that he hadn’t thought of before. Quickening his pace, he strode past the soldiers walking in front of him until he reached the signaler and tapped on the man’s shoulder. He stated his request and the patrol moved into cover while they waited.

  Zana watched as the signaler altered frequencies on the large radio and spoke into his mic. As he was establishing comms with Camp Palang, Zana studied his map and with the stub of a pencil, marked a series of positions on the contours of the document. The signaler looked up at him and Zana relayed a series of coordinates which were in turn, radioed back to Palang. There was some further back and forth before the signaler nodded and Zana smiled, indicating for the patrol to proceed. As he walked, he was happy the thought of the dogs had occurred to him. He might not have been able to get tracker dogs to help without arousing unwanted attention, but from his own unit, he could deploy something almost just as good. Not quite tracker dogs, but close.

  Very close.

  14

  ZAGROS MOUNTAINS, IRAN

  The light was beginning to fade as the sun sank below the peaks in the west. Karim scanned the area to the east looking for any signs of movement but had seen nothing for the last ten minutes to indicate his pursuers were close. He lowered the rifle and sank behind the rock, leaning his back against it and pulling the map from his trouser pocket. Fixing his position, he traced his finger to the next objective, an outcrop of rock that he and Vic had agreed would be his second rendezvous point; RV 2. He was less than a kilometer from the location, but it was a lot lower than his current position. Karim was loath to concede the height that he and the boy had worked so hard to gain but he had no choice. He couldn’t risk choosing a new location and sending Vic the coordinates; the transmission time would be far too long, and he wouldn’t risk the threat of compromise now that he was so close. He’d been fortunate with the IED; the Palang students too confident and eager to please the General to consider Karim as a serious threat. But it would be different now. The troops would be far more alert and less likely to succumb to such traps. They would also be more motivated to capture Karim, nothing getting a soldier’s blood up like the killing or wounding of a comrade in arms.

  He folded the map and stowed it back in the pocket of his cargo-pants before looking at the boy. The waif was curled up, asleep and still, laying on Karim’s mat and covered with a heat-reflective blanket. Although he didn’t show it, the boy had been exhausted, the night’s climb and the fast extraction from their last position taking its toll. Karim still couldn’t quite believe that he was dragging the orphan around with him when the challenges to staying alive were so high. But he felt an obligation to the boy; his appearance at Karim’s sleeping spot the night before, undoubtedly saving his life. He thought back to his own childhood as an orphan, being passed from distant relative to even more distant relative until he’d been old enough to extract himself from the cycle of abuse and servitude. The boy asleep at his feet had suffered far more than Karim and he knew in his heart that this was as much a reason for helping him as his gratitude. As though hearing his thoughts, the boy stirred and raised his sleep-wrinkled face from the comfort of the mat. He stared at Karim for a moment before running his hands through his black thatch of hair. Karim threw a handful of items to the boy’s side.

  ‘Here. Protein bars. Good for energy. Eat them, get a drink, have a piss, then we’re on our way again.’ He didn’t wait for a reply but began devouring his own bar, alternating bites with swallows of water, ensuring he remained hydrated. Grinning to himself as he watched the boy gobble down the bars before he was even half-way through his own, Karim felt in his heart that taking the boy with him was the right thing to do. Once they’d finished their food, Karim packed the gear away as the boy took himself out of sight to take care of his ablutions. He returned as Karim was hoisting the pack on to his back and watched the Quds operative pick up the carbine and meet his gaze.

  ‘We have a small distance to travel but we’re descending. Watch your feet on these slopes; the loose rock is treacherous, and you don’t want to fall down here. You’ll be over the edge before you know it. Follow my footsteps and you’ll be fine.’ With that he turned his back on the boy and began walking, examining the ground in front of him before taking a step. It would be slow going but better to be late at the RV than suffer the alternative of not making it at all. He glanced over his shoulder to see the boy adhering to his directive and following closely behind. Several times he felt the loose rock begin to slide beneath his feet but managed to recover before it became a full-on fall, his adrenalin kicking in and cursing under his breath. While the decision to gain height had been a sound tactical one given the circumstances, he was regretting it now as he tried to negotiate the treacherous terrain in rapidly fading light.

  They’d covered a good distance when Karim heard a hiss from the boy and he stopped, turned, and looked at the orphan. The boy was looking back the way they had come and tilted his head to one side as he concentrated. Karim started to ask what was wrong but was silenced by the boy’s raised hand as he continued his solemn vigil. After several moments the boy turned to face him.