Big responded quickly. “No, sir, we reviewed all the photos before taking off. There was no hint. They knew we were coming. They moved some air defenses around the fortress at the worst possible time.”
The Admiral considered the implications of that statement for a moment. “We’ll get them out.”
Big volunteered. “I’d like to fly cover for the SAR effort, sir. I owe him.”
“Relax,” the Admiral said. “We’ve been in touch with the Air Force Special Operations Command. They’ve got some people at Aviano who are ready to go.”
“The Air Force?” Big asked.
“It’s their mission, and they’re ready.”
“When would they go?”
“That’s one of the things they wanted us to ask you. Do you think they can survive out there until nightfall?”
“They don’t have much choice. They’ll find somewhere to hide until dark. But I don’t know how you just fly in and pick up two guys sitting right next to a ZSU-23 that will be waiting for a SAR effort.”
“That’s the Air Force’s problem.”
“Let us fly fighter cover. Let’s put ten F-14’s overhead Trey and take on all comers.”
“That’s not the way we’re going to do this,” the Admiral said. “It’s out of our hands. You guys go get some rest.”
“Aye aye, sir,” they replied. They turned to leave the darkened room when the Admiral stopped them.
“Did you get the Sheikh?”
Big shrugged. “Not a chance. The laser wasn’t there. We had to do it ourselves. We had to jink away to keep from getting our asses shot. I don’t know if they even hit where we were aiming.”
“They did,” Sedge said. “But we don’t have any idea if we aimed right. Probably just blew up a bunch of dirt.”
The Admiral’s response had a flinty edge to it. “That’s the problem with declaring war against one person. If you bomb him and blow him into the next reality, how do you ever know for sure you got him? How the hell are we going to prove we got this guy?”
“We’ve got to get out of sight,” Woods said, thinking of the Assassins making their way toward them.
Wink sat on a boulder and rubbed his knee. “I sure hope I don’t have to get arthro. My knee is killing me.”
“What’d you do to it?”
“I’m not sure. I just hit the ground hard. You know they tell you to look straight ahead so you don’t know when you’re going to hit and you don’t brace for the impact?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d like to meet the guy who had that idea. I’d probably have been fine if I’d been able to prepare for the impact…”
Woods suddenly noticed an overhang behind them that seemed to curl around and underneath a large boulder. He quit listening to Wink and scrambled onto the boulder to examine the crevice. It might be big enough for a man to get into, but it would be tight. He looked up into the sky. The stars were disappearing. Sunrise was approaching.
He slid down the boulder and sat next to Wink. “I think we’re going to have to get in between these two rocks. It’ll be tight.”
“Think we can fit?”
“We’ll have to take off all our flight gear—”
“We can’t leave it out—”
“No, we’ll drag it in with us.”
Wink was skeptical and crawled onto the boulder and stuck his head into the crevice. He pulled his Maglite out of his survival vest and shined it into the crack.
“Are you out of your mind?” Woods cried. “Shut that off! They can see that for ten miles!”
Wink quickly turned it off and put it back where it had been. Not only had he just told everyone where they were, he had ruined his own night vision.
“So, now that you’ve illuminated it, can we fit in it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Great,” Woods said, feeling a quick flash of nausea. “You’d better try. Otherwise, we’re going to be sitting ducks.” He looked for the men crossing the valley. He couldn’t see anybody. “They’re already at the base of this hill,” he announced to Wink’s back as he watched him try to slide into the crevice.
Wink struggled to slide into the hole, fearful he would get into a position where he couldn’t get back out.
Woods watched him anxiously. Woods never saw the hand come around his head from his right that quickly covered his mouth. His arms flailed as he was dragged backward off the boulder and onto the hard ground.
Two enormous, dark gray MH-53J Pave Low helicopters came over the horizon. They slowed as they approached the USS Saipan and positioned themselves for a vertical descent. The Saipan was a helicopter and VTOL–Vertical Takeoff and Landing — carrier that carried the Marine amphibious helicopters and Harrier jets.
The sailors on the Saipan watched the approach. The MH-53Js were like many other H-53 helicopters flown by the Navy and the Marine Corps. They saw those all the time. But these helicopters looked different. They had bulges and bumps where the other helicopters didn’t, and they didn’t have Navy or Marine markings.
The first Pave Low slowed as it neared the flight deck. The sailors strained to see the markings on the helicopter. There weren’t any they could see. The yellow shirt on the deck signaled the lead pilot where to put the enormous six-bladed helicopter. The pilot was very cautious; he had landed on ships before and knew he had to be careful.
The pilot maneuvered the Pave Low gently over the flight deck twenty feet above it and steadied directly above the landing spot. The Air Boss watched it with some trepidation. The Air Force was out of its element at sea. The Navy didn’t trust the Air Force to get anything right when it came to ships. But the fact that they had found the ship put them in good standing with the Air Boss. His hand was on the radio transmitter ready to call out at the smallest deviation from procedures.
The Pave Low III settled gently onto the deck, directly on the spot designated. Its landing gear compressed as the screaming plane’s weight shifted from the rotor blades. The deck crewman signaled for the pilot to shut down his port engine as another sailor put wood chocks in front of and behind the wheels.
The second Pave Low approached the Saipan along the same path. Its spot was aft of the first one, and it settled onto it as effortlessly as the lead had.
All of a sudden the deck was quiet. The rear access ramp of the Pave Lows opened and the pilots and aircrew stepped onto the flight deck. They looked around, then headed for the island.
The sailors had started to turn away when the rest of the occupants began filing out — men in dark jumpsuits with no insignia or markings. Like the aircrew, they proceeded into the island and disappeared behind them, followed by another group carrying large boxes. The Air Force was coming aboard, completely self-contained. All they needed was gas.
Woods was flipped onto his stomach, his face pushed down hard by a hand over his mouth. Suddenly he could feel warm breath on his cheek. A man whispered in his ear in gruff, accented English, “Don’t make a sound!”
Woods stopped struggling and listened. Suddenly the man was gone. No one was holding him down. He sat up quickly and looked around in the still, dark morning. Reaching inside his survival vest, he took out his 9-millimeter Beretta. He rose and started toward Wink.
As Wink finally freed himself from his aborted attempt to test the width of the crevice he had been eyeing, he too, was grabbed from behind. He panicked and fought as hard as he could as the strong arms pulled him backward, down the large boulder to the dirt. They tumbled off the last edge of the boulder and landed next to Woods.
The man grabbed Wink by the head and whispered loudly in his ear, “Stop struggling!”