Chapter 38
Panama
“There they go,” Raven whispered. She and Linc were hidden in the trees in the evening gloom. The two Oregon operators watched a dozen LED headlamps bounce in the dark as the Iranians broke camp from the main body of migrants and threaded their way into the jungle.
It had been four arduous days since the rescue of the girls farther back on the trail.
Fording perilous rivers, slogging through mud, scrambling over boulders, and sometimes surrendering their meager belongings to armed thieves had taken a ragged toll on the civilians making the hazardous trek. Several had disappeared altogether.
Every instinct in Raven and Linc had been to stay back with the stragglers and protect the weakest members of the herd from the predators.
But their mission was too important and too many other lives were possibly at stake.
They made the heart-wrenching decision to speed forward, and as the days progressed they finally caught up with the lead groups of younger men at the head of the column.
Raven had edged close to one cluster of young Arabic speakers she had observed early in the trip.
The men had set up camp just off the main trail, and built small fires to boil water for tea.
In the gloaming light of early evening, two of the men fell into their native Farsi tongue, reminiscing about one particularly striking green-eyed girl from their village when an older man barked harshly at them in Arabic to shut up.
“Boys will be boys,” Raven whispered to herself.
“Who’s there?” another Arabic voice shouted in her direction.
The other men suddenly quieted. Several stood, and two began heading her way, searching the ground with flashlights.
Raven bolted in a noiseless crouch through the trees and back to Linc, who’d set up camp near a young family on the main trail. A toddler was wearing out a candy bar Linc had given him.
Raven told Linc what she had seen and heard.
This was the break they had been waiting for.
Their mission was to find a hidden Quds Force base camp somewhere out here in the Darién Gap.
They hadn’t picked up a single clue so far until now.
A group of Iranian-speaking fighting-age males might well be headed for their mission target.
The two operators gathered up their gear and made their way back just in time to observe the Iranians breaking camp in the dark and leaving. Whether or not Raven had spooked them didn’t matter. They were leaving the main body and heading for another destination—it had to be the Quds base.
Linc and Raven were clearly outnumbered and carried only two guns between them.
But their mission wasn’t to engage the enemy, only to discover their location.
They gave the Iranians plenty of space before setting out after them, careful to keep themselves hidden.
It was rough going. By not using their headlamps or flashlights, the two stealthy operators managed to stumble over nearly every tree root and sharp rock on the path the Iranians were taking.
They trudged for hours, keeping count of the Iranian headlamps ahead of them, making sure one or more of them hadn’t snapped off their light and circled back.
By the time the sun rose, the jungle path had turned into a steep mountain trail, where the trees were thinner and the sight lines much longer.
The Iranians doused their lights, which made it more difficult to track them, especially as the trail curved and dipped on the snaking route up the mountain.
With light and elevation on their side, the Iranians finally decided to follow security protocols, whether out of training or skittishness was unclear.
Raven and Linc were losing ground to the advancing party.
Every time a rear-guard sentry turned around or halted, the two operators had to scramble for cover by ducking behind trees, hiding behind boulders, or even retreating back down the trail.
Despite their burning thighs, throbbing heads, and parched throats, the two Gundogs continued noiselessly up the trail. The Iranians had traveled for several hours and covered at least twenty klicks. Was it possible their base camp was at the top of this mountain?
A young Iranian stood at the apex of a steep hairpin turn, his eyes sweeping back and forth down the mountain and across the forested valley below him.
He took a long pull of water from a canteen, then lit a cigarette, his eyes never ceasing their search.
Ten minutes passed. He rubbed his cigarette out and pocketed the butt before turning on his heel and scrambling up the trail until he disappeared around the bend.
The two Gundogs exchanged a glance. No doubt the rest of the group had moved on quite a distance and the young Iranian was racing to catch up. They would all be out of earshot by now.
Linc and Raven carefully broke out their water bottles and a couple of power bars, slaking their thirst and hunger quickly, always with their eyes on the trail.
Raven was press-checking her weapon as Linc pulled the cheap AK rifle from his pack.
“Not a Barrett, but it’ll do,” Linc said.
Raven smiled. “It’s the samurai, not the sword.”
“Let’s see what’s what.”
The two operators sped to the top of the trail bend and peeked around the corner. The rocky path led into the black mouth of a yawning cave.
“Bingo,” Raven said.
The two Gundogs crouched behind a boulder, staying out of sight, their ears on high alert, their heads on swivels, hoping they hadn’t missed any Iranians who might have dropped off the main trail and circled back around behind them. None had.
They waited in that posture for another ten minutes. Dead silence. Lincoln checked his watch. He signaled “ten more” with his hands.
Another ten minutes passed. Nothing.
“I’m tired of this,” Raven said as she bolted for the cave entrance.
Linc raised his weapon to cover her advance.
Raven leaned against the rock just beyond the cave’s mouth. She waited, listening, then did a quick peek around the edge, and pulled her head back.
She turned to Linc and signaled “All clear.”
But even from this distance Linc could see the look in her eye.
Not just all clear.
They were gone.