They ran forward, bending over to make a smaller target. There were no rounds fired at them from the checkpoint. They went to ground again and watched the structure. One of the sedans had a large wet spot under it.
“Damn, a ricochet must have hit the gas tank,” Sadler said. “Six rounds each into the little shed over there. Might be one more of them on the floor.”
They fired, then all lifted up and charged across the highway and thirty yards to the checkpoint. Sadler kicked in the door to the small building and fired six rounds.
“All clear roadblock,” he said on the radio. Victor ran to the undamaged sedan and looked inside. The keys hung in the ignition. He got in, fired up the engine, and without lights drove back up the highway north until one of the SEALs there waved Victor to a stop. He turned around carefully, then opened the rear door and helped Bradford slide into the rear seat. He was groggy again. He was in need of help, and it should be soon. As agreed, Jefferson climbed in the front seat to ride shotgun. They rolled down all the windows.
Murdock came alongside. “Drive down about a mile and a half to where we left the boats. Blast your way through that other checkpoint. It might not even be operating this time of night. Stop at the boat, let Jefferson find it, and wait for us there. We’ve got to make some decisions here soon.”
Murdock went back to his men and led them down the side of the Dead Sea on the hard ground. He took out the long-range radio the Israelis had given him and turned it on, then pushed the send button.
“Grounded, calling High Bird,” Murdock said. He let up on the transmit button and waited. No response. He tried it three more times, then checked the batteries and switches with his penlight.
“Lieutenant Ebenezer up front,” he said on the Motorola. “Get out your long-range radio and see if you can contact High Bird.”
Ebenezer came jogging up a minute later. “I tried it five times, but I get no response. These sets should reach back to Rama Army Base easily. Are they off the air, or did we ruin both of these radios?”
24
Murdock looked at the Israeli Army man. “I heard your transmission, so that part works, and my receiver works,” Ebenezer said. “Let me transmit and you listen.”
He did. Murdock’s receiver worked.
“So, must be some problem on the other end,” Ebenezer concluded. “Maybe they don’t expect to hear from us this quickly and they don’t have their set turned on. These are special radios, so the signal doesn’t come in on the regular base radios.”
“Let’s hope,” Murdock growled. “How far to the boats?”
Fifteen minutes later they came to the spot where they had left the boats. Both were still there and in good condition.
Senior Chief Sadler came up. “Commander, we launch the boats now?”
“Hold for a while, Chief. Mahanani, go up to the road and check on Bradford.”
“Aye, Cap,” the medic said on the Motorola.
“Any reason that chopper can’t pick us up here instead of eighteen miles down-water?” Murdock asked Eb.
The Mistaravim soldier shook his head. “Not that I can see. No problem if they heard the bird now up at En Gedi or not. That was a major concern coming in. I’ll try the radio again.”
There was no response from Rama.
Mahanani came on the Motorola. “Skipper, the Brad here looks lots better than last time I checked. Gave him another ampoule of morphine. No fever. Slug must have missed his kidney and his intestines, so no peritonitis. Says he can walk, but I wouldn’t count on more than a hundred yards. Know he’s feeling better. He called me an ignorant, stupid, beach-bumming half-breed Kanaka bastard.”
“You two going steady?” Murdock asked.
“Naw, just a little contest to see who can call the other one the worst name. He’s one up.”
“Bring him back to the boat, we’ve got to push off. Too damn close to the action here. Tell Victor to stay with the car. Drive it down a quarter mile when we push off and wait for us. We might need the rig later. He’s got his Motorola?”
“Got it on, Skipper,” Victor said.
“Let’s move to the boats and get them ready to launch. Bradford will be in the last one out. Move it.”
Bradford made his way slowly across the sand to the boat. Mahanani hovered nearby, but didn’t touch him. The big man let out a sigh as he sat down in the rubber duck and it slid into the black salt brine. Lam started the motor and took the tiller, and the two small craft began working their way south along the shore.
Four times Lam had signaled with his flashlight, and Victor moved the car along the road to match their progress. By that time it was 0112, and Murdock tried his long-range radio again.
“Grounded calling High Bird. Grounded calling High Bird.”
He waited, and was about to try the call again when the speaker came alive.
“Yes, Grounded, read you.”
“High Bird, looking for a ride. Mission accomplished.”
“Launching in ten, Grounded. Same pickup point?”
“No, closer, about ten miles north of drop-off. No GPU with us, but we’ll give you a white flare for an LZ when we hear you coming in.”
“That’s a roger. ETA your position, about thirty-five. Out.”
The darkness seemed to deepen on the black water of the Dead Sea as they sailed south. The Motorolas came on.
“Victor here, Cap. That first checkpoint is coming up. Looks like one light on. My lights are off. Should I run it, blast it? What?”
“Slip up on it, then blast through as fast as you can go. No bar, right? If you see any bodies, fire at them as you go past.”
“That’s a roger, Skipper. Getting ready to blast through.”
The air went silent.
“Oh, yeah, I’m through. Just one guard on the driver’s side. I put four new buttonholes down his chest. I’ll stop a mile ahead and wait for your signal.”
Three miles north of En Gedi along the Dead Sea west bank, the Palestinian Authority had established a strong point. Captain Khadar smiled as he patted the Israeli long-range radio that they had captured from the three Jew spies two months ago. He understood English and a little Hebrew and he grinned. He knew exactly when an enemy helicopter was coming in. He’d had telephone warnings from En Gedi about the raid on the palace and the dead comrades there. This would be his chance for a great victory. It wasn’t often that the Authority had a chance to shoot down an enemy helicopter.
Since he’d had a report of a helicopter coming toward the Dead Sea early that evening, he had been listening on the Israeli radio. He had to move fast. Ten miles from where they had been dropped off. Easy, ten miles up the Dead Sea bank. He was furious about the attack on the palace. There was a report that The Knife was dead. The killers would pay.
He roused four of his best men and put them in the truck with the stake body. Each of his men had four shoulder-fired RPGs and their AK-47’s. They would drive without lights north along the highway for seven miles, and wait and see what happened. The helicopter would be coming in, probably from due east. As it came down to land, they would shoot it out of the air, then search for the killers who had murdered their hero.
Yes, it would be a glorious day for Allah!
The four Palestine Authority policemen grumbled when they were awakened and told of their task. But they brightened when told they would soon have the chance to shoot down an Israeli helicopter. They cheered as they left the garage where the truck had been kept ready. Now all they needed was some good fortune and they would strike a deadly blow for Allah.