Lam pulled the dead driver out of the cab. The keys were still in the engine. He hoped none of the rounds had hurt the motor or the fuel supply. He used his pencil flash, moved the transmission lever out of gear, and found the starter. The engine ground over four times, then sputtered, then came to life and ran smoothly.
“One truck up and running,” Lam said. “Moving it back to the road.”
The SEALs gathered around the truck as it rolled over the sand and onto the blacktop. In back they found three unfired RPGs, lots of blood, and two MREs. In the cab, Murdock found an Israeli long-range radio exactly like the one he and Eb carried. He grunted and went to see the Israeli.
“Ebenezer, are there any roads to the east across the Judean hills?” Murdock asked as he looked back at the still-blazing wreckage of the chopper and the funeral pyre for its three men.
“No roads up this high. We’re back in Israeli-controlled land, and we can drop south on this road for fifteen more miles to the town of Newe Zohar. Then we can drive east.”
“First we should see if we can talk with anyone back at Rama. Do they monitor this frequency back there?”
“They should know that they have a chopper out,” Ebenezer said. He made the call, but had no response. “When the chopper is overdue on its run back to the base, they may start getting curious and monitor this frequency,” Eb explained. “We’ll try again in two hours.”
“We’re back in Israeli territory, right?” Murdock asked. Eb nodded. “So we should have no trouble driving to where we can call in a new chopper.”
“Depending on the fuel situation,” Eb said. “This is a gasoline-powered truck. Petrol isn’t always easy to find down here, and where it is available, it can cost dearly. Do any of you have any cash we can spend on gas?”
“Weren’t issued any money,” Murdock said. He looked at Lam behind the wheel. “How much gas in the tank?”
“Looks about half full.”
“Siphon all the gas out of the sedan. We can all fit on the stake. Let’s get ready to roll. Use the tubes we have over our backs to hold the weapons for the siphon. Go.”
It was twenty minutes before they started moving. Bradford was lucid and seemed to be hurting less. He sat against the cab of the truck in back and sang a little song he hadn’t thought of in ten years.
Three rode in the cab and seventeen in back. It was a full load. Lam drove, and they rolled down the highway at forty miles an hour. They pulled into the small village of Newe Zohar just as it was getting daylight. Ebenezer had an idea. He had Lam drive around until they found the police station. One Israeli cop on duty quickly called his superior, who came in ten minutes later.
Lieutenant Ebenezer showed the man some documents, and the chief of police kept nodding. Ten minutes later their truck’s tank was filled with gasoline from the police pump and they had two ten-gallon cans full in the back.
“Now maybe we can get somewhere,” Ebenezer said. He tried the radio again, but had no luck getting a response.
Eb rode in the cab with Murdock and Lam. “Our only worry now are Arab marauders. They roam over the underpopulated hills and sometimes hit small towns. They are well armed and take what they want. Usually they drive old military jeeps, decked out with ten-gallon cans of gasoline. We watch for them and when they see our guns, they will race away as fast as they can.”
Before they left town, Eb had Lam stop in front of a small store. He came out with four large sacks filled with pastries, fruit, and sandwiches. He passed them out to the men and then they began their eastward journey. “I always carry money with me just in case of an emergency like this,” he told them.
Lam looked at the map the Israeli showed him as Eb said, “First we go south on this same highway for ten miles; then we make a right turn into the only road. I’m not sure if there are any more settlements or villages out here or not. I’ve never been in this part of Israel. It’s all controlled by us, so no worry there. From the map it looks like about forty miles as the crow flies, or maybe fifty-five or so on the road. We’re heading for the good-sized town of Be’er Sheva.” As Lam drove, Lieutenant Ebenezer tried to call on the long-range radio. He made the call ten times, but heard no response.
25
They drove for two hours east through the dry semi-desert of the southern Israeli countryside. The road followed a wadi that would have quite a bit of water in it during the rainy season. It must have rained a few days before because Murdock saw occasional places with running water in the wadi, and more with water holes. They turned sharply south with the gully, and then later were about to turn back to the north, still following the dry riverbed, when they heard gunshots and bullets zinged over the top of their truck. Ahead, a jeep with three ten-gallon gas cans showing to the front careened around a sharp corner and slid to a stop thirty yards directly in front of them.
Luke Howard, who had been standing in the truck bed watching over the cab, had his weapon trained on the front and he hit the trigger, spewing twelve rounds across the suddenly defensive jeep riders. The driver tried to reverse his gears, but by then three more SEALs had their weapons out firing. Both jeep front tires blew; then the folded-up windshield shattered into a hundred pieces, and four men riding in the jeep jumped off the rig and stormed into the sparse brush next to the watercourse.
Lam pulled the truck closer to the jeep.
“Keep firing at the bastards?” Senior Chief Sadler barked.
“Run them into the desert but don’t hit them,” Murdock said. “Let’s see what they have on the jeep.”
The SEALs found a box of food, two weapons, and six blankets. A few shots came from the thin brush, but a heavy volley of rounds from the SEALs drove the attackers back into the sharp sides of the wadi and out of sight.
“Grab those two cans of gas if they’re full,” Murdock said. “Slosh the rest of the last one on the vehicle and we’ll see if we can set it on fire with some lucky-placed rounds.”
The gasoline soaked the rig, and then the truck pushed the jeep off the road and they went by it fifty feet. It took only four rounds from the MP-5’s to touch a spark that exploded the vaporizing gasoline into one huge fireball.
Jefferson watched the rig burn as they pulled away. “Those boys should know never to play with guns unless you’re gonna win.”
When they came out of the last big turn following the wadi, they were on a small rise, the largest one they had seen. The Judean hill had petered out from the north. Eb decided to try the radio again.
“High Bird, this is Grounded calling. High Bird, this is Grounded.” Lieutenant Ebenezer bit his lip and looked north as if he could will someone to answer. He made the call again, and on this try repeated it three times.
A weak signal came through. “Calling Grounded. We have no record of a High Bird call. Are you using this frequency without authorization?”
“No, we’re authorized out of Rama. Who is this?”
“This is Tel Aviv Air. What is your clearance? Why are you calling Rama?”
“Tel Aviv, we were on a trip into the West Bank. A helicopter from Rama took us in, and was coming back to get us when it was blown out of the sky. We have had no contact with Rama since that time about eight hours ago. Rama has one helicopter missing. We’re looking for a ride out of here. We’re coming up on Be’er Sheva. Can you get us transport? You should talk to Colonel Ben-Ami at Rama.”
“Will do that, Grounded. Stand by.”
Nothing came over the speaker. “He must be on a different frequency to get to Rama,” Ebenezer said. “At last we have some contact.”
Less than three minutes later the long-range radio chirped.
“Grounded, this is Ben-Ami at Rama. We lost the chopper?”