THE RECRUIT
By; Gerald A. Polley
They got to the mayor's residence, there were several young ladies
there, but they seemed more interested in the mayor's son Osama, than
in Imal. The supper was delightful! Imal liked real Arab
food. Finally, they were all sitting drinking coffee when Imal
sat back.
"I think we should be told why we're
here," he put in. "There's a great deal of
uncomfortableness. What's going on?"
The
mayor sighed. "Can't keep anything from you people!" he
managed. "We owe you a great debt, young man! Your people
haven't found out yet, you're going to shortly, one of the young men
that you kept from blowing himself up a little while ago is my eldest
son. I can't understand why my children traded one kind of
fanaticism for another! I'm afraid they're followers of Cardinal
Witherspoon. But Osama has decided that it's time to put an end
to that. He knows where the cardinal is, and is willing to take
your people there. But only if you lead the mission!"
Imal's mouth fell open. "I'm not even officially a soldier!" he
finally managed, "I can't take a mission like that! We have
qualified people."
"But they're not you!"
Osama put in. "They don't have the power. And I don't think
we can succeed if we're not led by someone that has the power!
The cardinal keeps changing his residences. He never stays
in one place very long. He'll be moving Friday morning. So
we'll have to go Thursday night."
"That's
impossible!" Imal complained. "Today's Wednesday! We can't
put an operation like this together in a few hours! It could take
days of planning!"
"Again," Osama put in, "that's
why you need to lead it, and why I must go. I will ask no reward
other than being allowed to join your military and to be under your
command. But if you want the cardinal you're going to have to act
quickly."
Sabrina rose. "I think we'd better go!" she
remarked. As they gathered her things she got on the phone.
"Commander!" she snapped, "We must see you immediately! I would
ask you summon the commander of special operations. We're gonna
need him! Yes sir! We're on our way!"
They piled in the car and rushed back to the base. Along the way
Imal noticed a vehicle pull in behind them. They were barely
checked at the gate and made directly for the new base commander's
house. "You do the talking!" Imal told Sabrina.
She nodded. They all gathered in a room that was obviously meant
for briefings, and the base commander was told what they had been
told. "Where?" the special operations officer asked.
There was a display screen on the wall with a map. Osama went to
it and very quickly worked it. He brought up a section of Iran.
"Here!" he answered. "It's right in here somewhere, but unless
I'm with you it will take you hours to find it! It's built right
into the side of a hill, solid rock! There's one lower guard post
and one higher one. At night there'll be one man in each.
They'll have to be silenced, so we can get to the two doors.
We'll have to blow them in, or whatever. Once inside, the room
where the cardinal is staying is just down the hall. I don't know
much about the rest of the place, as I've only been in that
section. But I think there's quite a bit there. You'll have to
drop from the sky. There's listening posts all through this
area. Helicopters would be detected, and we'd never get to the
facility."
The base commander looked down at
Imal's foot. "Air drop's out of the question," he remarked.
He looked to the special operations. "Whispers?" he asked.
"Yes!" the officer answered, "Only alternative. We can probably
put them down on this long stretch of road, stop right here, out of
sight but a quick walk to the facility. We'll check on traffic on
that road but this looks out of the way. Probably virtually
nothing at night! I'd use three craft. Each is capable of
carrying twelve people but I'd only put six in each. Give us
space and weight for prisoners and any documents we could find."
The commander sighed. "What in the hell's the weather gonna be?"
he wondered aloud. He went to a computer. "Good
weather the next two days!" he remarked. "Well, we need sixteen
men. We have two."
"Three!" Sabrina put in.
"No," Imal answered. "Not this time."
"Agreed!" the base commander snapped before Imal's wife to be could
reply. "We have no time for arguments! We've gotta put this
thing together. It's gotta go tomorrow night! I would like more
time, I think everybody would like more time, but this is a
circumstance we cannot pass up!" He looked to Osama. "And you,
sir will take a full share of any rewards or booty. If you still
wish to serve with this man you will be welcome. But we are fully
aware of the risks that you are taking. If you are captured you will be
killed and, very unpleasantly! I'd suggest everybody try to get
some sleep!"
Everybody agreed. They
returned home. Everybody knew something was going on. As
Imal got up the next morning Roseanne and Raphael came in. "We
wanna go!" they repeated in almost perfect unison.
"No," Imal answered. "This could get very, very nasty."
They got out to the airfield and were taken to a hangar where three
stealth aircraft were waiting. They were trained on how to exit
them in a hurry. "How do these work?" Imal asked.
One of the pilots came over. "Standard jet engine," he explained,
"makes plenty of noise. But when we're coming in to land we have
two chemical propulsion units that give us almost noiseless thrust,
more than enough for us to maneuver on land.. But it only lasts
for fifteen minutes. So we can't make any mistakes. We act like
we're moving off, cut the jet engines, and land."
"Sounds like this is going to be fun!" Imal muttered.
They waited for dusk then took the planes out on the runway. Imal
was glad his friend from the first day was with him. But only
half of his people were Death Troops.
Finally they were about to board the planes when the base commander
came up. He took a leather pouch from his pocket, held it up so
Imal could see it. "Death warrant," he explained, "giving you the
authority to execute the individual we are seeking if he is on these
premisis, and any there in operations with him."
The Death Officer came over. "If you would prefer I take that, sir," he remarked.
Imal shook his head, took the documents and put them in the proper
place in his battle jacket. "Let's load up!" he ordered.
They quickly boarded their aircraft, in a few minutes were air borne.
"Really odd!" the pilot commented, "Was
supposed to be a clear night. We've got some high cloud cover. It's
pretty dark. Gonna be hard for even night vision!"
"If it's too dangerous to attempt landings," Imal ordered, "with night
vision equipment, risk using your infrared lights."
"Yes sir!" the pilot answered.
This was the hardest time. Anyone who had ever been through this
knew it, waiting to move in, not knowing what was out there, not
knowing what was waiting. Finally he heard the jet engine go
off. He didn't like the feel of the plane as it came down, but
finally they hit the roadway a little too hard! Imal heard a moan
behind him. As soon as they stopped moving he got off the
plane. The pilot and the engineer moved it further off the road,
got out a cover and began to camouflage it. Imal noticed one of
his men was being tended. "What happened?" he asked.
"Didn't have a strap properly fastened," one of the other men
answered. "Equipment came loose. Pretty bad whack in the
head."
"He's not going with us!" Imal
snapped. "The pilot and the engineer will tend him. What's his
position?"
"Sniper," the other man answered.
Imal took off his ammunition belt and handed it out with his rifle.
"Give him these!" he snapped, "Give me his weapon." The rest of
the troops joined them and with Osama in the lead they headed
out. A few minutes later Osama waved them down.
"There it is!" he said. "There's the ground guard post, there's
the upper one. The ground guard's smoking again! He's not
supposed to."
Imal motioned to the other sniper
and pointed to the ground position, then sighted the upper one.
"Target acquired!" he remarked, "Target acquired!" the other man
answered. "Fire!" Imal snapped.
Both their
rifles hardly made a sound but through his scope Imal saw his target's
head explode. "Down!" he snapped. "Down!" his companion
repeated.
"Go!" They were across the
ground and to the doors in no time. Four men took out cutting
torches and went to the locks and doorhandles. In moments they
were cut out. Men grabbed the doors with hooks and pulled them
open. Imal rushed inside, Osama on his heels. But Imal knew
exactly where he was going, exactly!
Page 11