A short time later, Kael was stowed aboard the truck, her stretcher secured to one of the long benches by thick leather straps. Tovah and Adellich sat opposite the American on the other bench, clothed again in their accursed Republican Guard uniforms. Two submachine guns were stowed safely beneath the benches, out of direct sight but easily retrieved if needed. One of the litter bearers sat in the driver’s seat while the other went with his compatriots in a second purloined Iraqi truck.
The truck coughed loudly as it was started up, and with a rattle, the group made their way across the bomb blasted desert to a far off safe zone, each trapped within the dark well of their own thoughts.
16 August 1990. ~50 miles west of the boarder between Iraq and Saudi Arabia
The flight to freedom had been excruciating for the soldiers, especially those sitting in the back of the truck. Avoiding main thoroughfares and constantly streaming patrols of soldiers, Iraqi and allied alike, caused a merciless pounding on tender bodies.
Kael had finally fallen into a troubled, sweat-stained sleep about seven hours into the journey. Noting this, Adellich reached under the bench and removed his medical bag. Peering inside, he brought out a pre-filled syringe of Morphine.
“What are you doing?” Tovah asked.
“This has gotta be agony on her,” Adellich replied in a whisper. “She’d never ask for help while awake, so I figure I’ll give it to her when she’s asleep.”
Tovah snickered. “You always were known for your bravery, Ben.”
Pulling a face, the medic stood, supporting himself against the bench as the truck hit yet another deep rut in the desert. Straightening, he made his way across the truck bed, then lifted the light coverlet he’d placed over Kael’s reclining body. A quick swipe with an alcohol pad to her hip and the injection was administered.
Kael’s eyes shot open, her left hand moving in a blur and knocking the now empty syringe from the medic’s hand. “What are you doing?” she growled.
Adellich looked slightly sheepish as he rubbed his now bruised wrist. “Just giving you something for the pain.”
A sable eyebrow rose. “Did I say I was in pain?”
“You didn’t have to.”
Opening her mouth to say more, the American yawned instead. “You son of a bitch,” she mumbled as her eyelids betrayed her body’s signals to keep awake and aware.
“Relax,” the medic said, laying a gentle hand on Kael’s broad shoulder. “We’re almost there.”
” …kill you … .” was all Kael could say before her body gave in to the seductive call of the drug.
Tovah laughed as Adellich, still rubbing his wrist, rejoined her on the bench. “Can’t wait to see how you’re gonna get yourself out of this one,” she teased, patting the medic’s shoulder in mock sympathy.
“Don’t tease an injured man,” he grumbled, holding up his arm and asking for sympathy with his eyes.
“It was your own fault. You … .” Tovah cut off her words, stiffening her posture and cocking her head.
“What is it? Tovah?”
Tovah threw up a hand for silence, her hearing strained against the loud rumbling of the truck. The distinctive sound of semi-automatic weapons fire sounded uncomfortably close. Straining still further, she could pick up muffled shouts. More fire, and the truck came to a lurching halt.
“Shit,” Tovah whispered, reaching down for her concealed weapon.
“What is it? What’s wrong? Why are we stopping?”
“I’m not sure. Either the Iraqis found us out, or the allies think we’re the enemy. Either way, we need to be ready.” She nodded to him, then cut her eyes to the floor beneath the bench.
Taking a deep breath, Adellich bent over and retrieved his weapon, checking all the clips to be sure it was loaded and in proper working condition. He returned her nod, hefting the weapon. “What now?”
“Stay quiet and let me do the talking. Just get ready to fight if we need to. Keep an eye on Kael.”
“I can do that.”
The back flap of the truck was lifted by the long nose of a weapon. A masked figure, dressed in desert camouflage ducked underneath the flap, pointing his weapon at the occupants. “Put down your weapons and raise your hands above your heads!” the figure commanded in Arabic, gesturing at them with his gun to make sure his statements were understood.
Laying her weapon on the floor, Tovah straightened and lifted her hands above her head. “We have an injured soldier,” she replied in Arabic.
“I can see that,” the soldier returned. “Now get up slowly and come towards me. No funny stuff or I’ll blow your head off. You understand me?”
Tovah did as she was commanded, rising slowly and peering closely at the man’s uniform. She took a chance. “We’re not Iraqi,” she said, slowly walking toward the heavily armed soldier. “We’re allies.”
A harsh chuckle sounded from behind the mask. “Yeah, and my mother’s dining with the Queen next Sunday. Now shut up and move!”
“I’m totally serious. It should be obvious to you that I’m a woman. How many women do you think the Iraqis let in their army?”
“I don’t give a shit if you’re a fucking gorilla. You’re wearing an Iraqi uniform. That makes you the enemy. Now get your ass outta the truck before I cut you in two!”
As Tovah ducked beneath the tent flap, the soldier noticed Adellich, and his gun, for the first time. There was a short, sharp report, and the medic flew against the truck’s bulkhead, his weapon flying from his grasp. Blood spurted from a hole in his throat.
“Ben!” Tovah shouted, whirling.
The soldier clouted her across the back with a blow from his weapon. The Israeli slumped to the ground, stunned.
Weapon fire cutting through the drug induced haze of her sleep, Kael struggled back into consciousness. She came awake quickly, bringing her body up, leaning on her elbows for support. With a sweep of her eyes, she noted the now dead Adellich, his weapon near her cot, the slumped form of Tovah, and the soldier gripping his weapon tightly.
Raising her right arm to her mouth, Kael ripped the velcro closure to the splint open with her teeth, then reached down to grab the medic’s weapon as the soldier busied himself with trying to remove a struggling Tovah from the truck. “You son of a bitch!” Kael screamed, bringing her weapon up.
The soldier dropped Tovah to bring his own weapon up. The Israeli grabbed the gun by the barrel and shoved, causing the wild shots to fly over her head, missing Kael completely. Adellich’s thick body danced as more ammunition entered it.
Pushing the soldier away, Tovah scrambled back to her feet, heading toward Kael and her weapon. “Don’t, Kael. Please. They’re allies.”
Kael shook her off, weapon raised again as the soldier’s head popped back up under the canvas flap, this time joined by two of his comrades. Kael squeezed the trigger, sending one of the men flying away from the truck. The second lifted his weapon and fired toward Kael.
As if seeing it in slow motion, Tovah felt her body spring over the short distance that separated herself from her American friend. With a yell, she covered Kael’s body with her own. Three bullets tore into her back. She felt the sudden urge to cough, spraying Kael’s white hospital gown with blood. She watched the patterns interestedly, wondering if this was how it felt to die.
Lifting a head which felt like it now weighed a ton, she looked into Kael’s ice blue eyes for a moment that seemed to span eternity. The look of cold death in those eyes was her companion in her journey to oblivion.
Kael broke the gaze and shifted her hips to buck Tovah’s dead body from her. The corners of her mouth turned up in a snarl of utter rage. “Pray to whatever gods you believe in, cause I’m sendin’ you to meet ‘em.” Depressing the trigger, Kael mowed down the two soldiers staring at her from the back of the truck. Lurching to her feet, biting back a shout of pain as her legs tried their best to bear her heavy weight, the American steadied herself against the bench, then turned. Shuffling steps, each a study in agony, brought her to the back of the truck. Without even looking outside to aim, she depressed the trigger of her weapon again, shredding the canvas flap and sending screaming missiles into the desert heat. Screams of the dying men played an orchestra in her ears.