“Sniper at nine o’clock. Four, five hundred yards,” Justin shouted, suppressing the anger rising in his voice. He had followed the angle of the shot and had discovered the shooter. He pointed to a tall ridge overlooking the road with a sweaty, shaky hand. They had searched that area earlier but had seen no traces of a sniper’s nest. He swore under his breath.
“I see no movement, but it looks like a perfect place,” Nathan said. He recalibrated his binoculars. “Yes, he’s there. I see him.”
The Nissan veered off and headed for a ditch, the driver still staring at Ruslan. Another round slammed the side of the car.
“Watch the ditch! The ditch!” Justin yelled.
The driver snapped out of his trance and steered the car back to the road. It fell into a deep pothole that almost broke its shock absorbers. The driver pressed the gas pedal, and the Nissan bounced back onto the dirt road.
“Turn, turn, left, then right!” Justin ordered the driver. “Make it harder for the shooter. And get us out of this road!”
Nathan reached for their carbines. He handed Justin his, then swung his own carbine over his shoulder, rammed the barrel through the window glass and began hammering away at the sniper’s nest.
Justin did the same. He blasted round after round. A hollow click signaled an empty chamber. He reloaded in a flash. He had little hope their shots were going to hit the sniper. Their enemy’s nest was within their carbines’ maximum fire range, but well beyond their effective range of three hundred yards. They were in a moving vehicle, and its driver was taking sharp turns. Their suppressive fire was intended to keep the sniper down or reduce his efficiency. At least for a few more seconds.
The driver found a flat patch of barren land, clear of any large boulders, and turned the steering wheel in that direction. He misjudged the distance, and the Nissan’s front tire hit a large rock. The car tilted to its right side as it climbed over the obstacle, then sank at the edge of a sand bank. The driver hit the gas pedal. The Nissan groaned and jerked forward, but went nowhere. A bullet pierced the back window.
Nathan let off a long barrage, a full thirty-round magazine.
The driver swore and shifted gears. He gave the gas pedal a light touch. The tires spun. He steered to the left, toward the hard ground. The car inched forward with a rattle. He pressed the gas pedal again. The car responded, and they slid downhill. They took two more turns, rounded the hill and were finally out of the line of fire.
Justin pressed his pistol against the driver’s head. “Stop the car.”
“What? What are you doing? Why?”
“Stop the car. Last time.”
The driver slammed the brakes. The car came to an abrupt halt. He raised his hands up.
“How did they learn about us?” Justin asked. “Whom did you call? Whom did Ruslan call?”
“I don’t… I don’t know. Don’t kill me. I called… called nobody.”
“Did he call anyone?”
“No, no, he didn’t.”
Justin shoved his gun deeper into the back of the driver’s head. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying. Check my phone and Ruslan’s phone. We had no idea where we were going. Remember, you only told us it was somewhere in Iran. You gave us directions as we drove. Don’t kill me. We didn’t betray you.”
“But who did? Who did this?” He nodded toward the dead bodies.
Nathan got out of the car and searched Ruslan for his cellphone. He reached into the driver’s jacket and got his as well. He scanned quickly through their call logs.
“Get out of the car,” Justin said. He kept his gun pointed at the driver, as they both climbed out of the Nissan.
Nathan frowned. “He’s telling the truth. No phone calls since this morning, before we left.” He handed the driver back his cellphone.
Justin sighed.
“OK, so how the hell did they know? They were waiting for us.”
Nathan glanced at the dead defector then at Justin.
Justin narrowed his eyes. “No, it can’t be him. I gave him general directions and told him the exact coordinates only this morning. And a sniper doesn’t just happen. Not such a good sniper.”
Nathan took Justin to the side, away from the driver. He couldn’t hear their words, but they could still keep an eye on him.
“What if the defector was a double agent? Entices us with his story, then tells the Revolutionary Guards about our position,” Nathan said.
“But they killed him.”
“Perhaps that bullet wasn’t meant for him.”
“It was easier to target us when we were walking toward him. Why wait until we’re in the car?”
Nathan shrugged then looked over Justin’s shoulder at the driver, who was trying to light a cigarette. Justin turned around and saw the driver’s hands shaking so much he succeeded only on his fourth try.
“Maybe he wasn’t in position yet. Too little time to prepare.”
Justin shook his head. “No, it doesn’t make sense. The Guards — or whoever the sniper is — wouldn’t just send a man or two. They would send an army and attempt to take us alive.”
Nathan nodded.
Justin glanced around the area. “Something doesn’t fit quite right. But I can’t tell what it is.”
“That sniper is a great marksman. Maybe he thought a clear shot was too easy. He wanted to make the game interesting, challenging. That’s why he waited until we got into the car.”
Justin wiped some of Safavi’s blood from his forehead. “Whatever it is, we don’t have to figure it out now. Take the folder and everything else we need out of the car. I’ll call for an exfil.”
“Got it.”
They returned to the car at a fast pace.
“Are we leaving now?” the driver asked.
“Yes. On foot. You’re welcome to join us.”
The driver frowned, looking down at his belly. He was in no shape to hike the rugged hills. “Why not take the car?”
“Because it has a bull’s-eye painted on the back. The sniper will call for reinforcements. If they dispatch a helicopter, the Nissan will be your coffin. We have a better chance of survival if we ditch the car.”
The driver seemed to mull over Justin’s words. Justin loaded his knapsack on his shoulders then picked up his carbine. He walked over to Safavi and gave him a last glance. “I wish I could give you a proper burial,” he muttered, “especially if you had nothing to do with this.”
Nathan was ready, waiting for Justin.
“Are you coming?” Justin asked the driver.
He shook his head.
“Fine. If you make it, I’ll call you. We need to meet and figure out what exactly happened here and why.”
The driver nodded after a brief pause.
Nathan took a step forward. “This way,” he said, pointing toward a steep path winding around the hill. “We’ll be safe soon enough.” He began marching.
Justin raised his satellite phone to his ear and followed him. “Let’s hope the Guards’ choppers don’t find us before our exfiltration team.”
Chapter Two
“What do you mean ‘the area is too hot’? We’re ready for exfil. Send in the chopper,” Justin said on the phone. He tried to keep his voice calm, but found it hard under the circumstances. Colonel Garryev was refusing to dispatch the exfiltration team.
He listened for a few moments to Colonel’s Garryev’s explanation.
“No, Colonel, that’s unacceptable. We’re not being followed.” Not yet, he wanted to add, but Colonel Garryev did not need that detail.
The voice on the other end of the call was scared, even terrified.