Chapter Forty-Seven
Al-Mazunah, Oman
Novikov’s phone rang and he recognized the number as belonging to the local Al Qaeda leader, Omar.
He hoped it was good news, as the Russian mercenary and his men had been waiting for over a day in Oman for verification of his target’s presence.
He was unsure whether he should head west into Yemen or north to Saudi and was growing impatient.
If he hadn’t heard anything by tonight, then he and his team were going to cross into Yemen and begin the hunt on their own.
So if Omar was calling him, it had better be with an answer that would make his contingency plans unnecessary.
“Yes” was all he said as he answered the phone.
“I have him,” Omar responded.
“Wilde?”
“Yes.”
“What about the girl?” Novikov asked. “Do you have the girl as well?” There was hesitation on the line.
“Not yet,” Omar finally said.
“Chyort,” Novikov swore. It was a simple task to find and kill two people. He knew that it was a team of special operators, but Omar had an entire army at his disposal, as well as the run of the country.
“Is he dead?” Novikov asked.
“No.”
“Good, now find the girl.”
“First, you will pay us for Wilde. Then we will find the girl.”
“What?” Novikov asked. He was getting the distinct feeling that this terrorist was attempting to exploit him, and the thought angered him.
“You pay half now, half when we find the girl,” he said.
“The deal was for both,” Novikov said through gritted teeth.
“This is the new deal,” Omar replied matter-of-factly.
Novikov swore again. He didn’t like extortion, unless he was the one doing it.
He played the scenario out in his head. If Omar was unable to capture the girl, it meant he was incompetent.
Novikov had with him a dozen former Spetsnaz soldiers, all armed to the teeth and ruthless.
They had already been paid so he might as well put them to work.
He decided he would meet Omar under the guise of paying him.
He would kill Omar, verify they had Wilde and make him suffer, and then hunt down the girl himself.
Omar had no idea how many men Novikov had brought and wouldn’t see it coming.
“Fine,” he said with a smile. “But I want Wilde alive, and then you’ll get your money.”
“You bring the money, I will let you kill him and his friend yourself. Meet me at dawn,” Omar said cheerily.
“Fine,” Novikov agreed. “What is your location?”
Najran Province, Saudi Arabia
Tim felt like shit. This had been his plan, and he’d let his friends down.
It had been the perfect storm of bad luck that led to their current circumstances, but he still placed the blame squarely on his own shoulders.
The truck full of terrorists that had been following them closed the gap quicker than he had anticipated, and he and Wally found themselves in a precarious situation.
They had managed to take two more down before the men backed off and they were able to make their way to the next rendezvous point.
Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, the area was already abandoned.
All that remained was the truck Nate and Shane had been driving, and it was flipped upside down and riddled with bullet holes.
There were several tracks leading away from the area heading west, toward the Saudi town they had wanted to avoid.
Worse still, it was getting to be late in the day.
The tracks would be difficult to follow in the dark, and come morning they would be swept away by the winds.
Additionally, the truck full of jihadis was still out there, and Nate and Shane appeared to have been taken by an even larger force.
Tim retrieved the lost men’s bags, including Nate’s laptop.
He also took the fuel and water jerry cans and added them to the back of their own vehicle.
While digging around in the wreckage he found a knife, and with a heavy heart realized it was Nate’s Yarborough.
He scooped it up and stuck it in his pack.
“Well, we cocked that up, didn’t we?” Wally asked rhetorically.
They had followed the tracks several dunes over to the west in the hopes that their tracks would blend in with the others.
The men following them may not have seen two vehicles and may have thought there was only one.
For the moment, it seemed to be working, and there didn’t appear to be any sign of their pursuers.
“It’s my fault,” Tim said. “We never should have separated.”
“No, mate,” Wally said. “Don’t do that. You made the right call. We couldn’t have known these geezers were waiting on us. Cunts caught us in a pincer maneuver.”
“Yeah,” Tim said, spitting in the sand as he lit a cigarette. He knew Wally was right, but he still felt like shit about it.
“So now what?” Ana asked. Her usually soft voice had an edge to it. “We have to find them.”
“Of course we have to find them,” Tim said, slightly irritated. They could certainly track them if they moved soon, but he wasn’t sure what they would do when they found them. “But it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Seems fairly simple to me,” Ana said, not backing down. “We find them, and then we rescue them.” She stated it plainly as if it were a simple matter.
“And how do you propose we do that?” Tim asked angrily. “We need a plan.”
“Then make one,” she said flatly. It was clear she was emotional about Nate being taken, but it didn’t mean that she was wrong either. “You guys are commandos, right? Make a plan.”
“Nate was always the plans guy,” Tim mumbled. “I was always more the killing type.”
“Fine,” she said. “Then what would Nate do?” The two men thought about it.
“Well, first we have to find them,” Tim said finally.
“And then recon,” Wally added, and Tim nodded.
“Then we see what we’re up against. Go in dark, stealthy.”
“Great. And then you can do what you do best,” Ana added, “and kill these bastards.”