Algerian and Libyan forces invaded Tunisia two days ago. As of this morning it is under the occupation by those forces. If you are thinking of going to Morocco, I have to advise against that also as Morocco, like Algeria, is now in a state of rebellion. Let us get you out of the country and when aboard the Nassau …”
“Nassau! We are going to the Bahamas?” Yosef asked, interrupting Duncan.
“No, Colonel, not the Bahamas. The USS Nassau is the destination. The USS Nassau is an amphibious carrier off Algiers at this moment.”
Alneuf nodded.
Duncan looked around the area. “What happened here, Colonel?”
Yosef followed Duncan’s look around the area. “This was our second night and I am afraid we relaxed our vigilance too soon. We were making coffee when a truckful of revolutionaries drove up to the front of the villa. It was only luck that the brakes on the truck squealed as it stopped. Otherwise, the story you are seeing could have been quite different.”
“Yes, we heard the gunfire as we were coming up from the beach.” Yosef pointed to the fountain, where the three prisoners lay tied up like animals awaiting slaughter. Duncan wondered if the Algerians would shoot them before they left. He hoped he wouldn’t have to face that moral dilemma. Above the prisoners, one of Bashir’s relatives stood guard. Duncan saw the Arab grin as he poked the helpless prisoners with his Kalashnikov rifle. If they decided to execute those three prisoners, Duncan wanted to be far away when it happened.
“It seems that somehow the new government discovered we were at the old villa on the coast and sent a squad of their revolutionary guards to investigate,” explained Yosef. “From what little the prisoners have said, they were surprised to find themselves fighting Algerian Guardsmen. They thought we were some upper-class citizens fleeing the carnage and chaos in Algiers. They figured to find a bunch of frightened civilians up here.” He grinned. “Instead, much to their surprise, they stumbled on the only remaining Algerian soldiers in this area of the country. And those Algerian soldiers were the elite Palace Guard. Those eight won’t bother anyone again, and those three we’ll leave here and, if they’re lucky, they’ll be found before the insects drive them mad. Unfortunately, at least two escaped. We have two of Mr. Bashir’s relatives”-he pointed to the large Arab standing near them, who grinned and nodded at Duncan—“and one of my Guardsmen in pursuit. We should know soon if they were successful. If they catch them, then we should be safe for a while. If not, then we can expect additional company soon. It will depend on how fast the new Algerian Army reacts,” Yosef said, derision in his voice.
“I heard before we departed the USS Nassau that the rebels were mounting a big search east of Algiers, centered around a beached fishing boat that they believed President Alneuf had been on?”
“Yes, we were attacked by an aircraft. We were on our way to Tunisia when it surprised us. We barely beached the boat before it would have sunk. Mr. Bashir saw the battle, stopped along the highway, and thanks to his knowledge of the desert we avoided the rebels until tonight. For that, we owe him our lives.”
“And I fed them, too,” Bashir added as he walked up behind Colonel Yosef.
“Well, your adversaries were still searching that location twenty-four hours ago,” Duncan said.
“You said, ‘we,” Captain,” Yosef continued. “How many are there of you and where are they, if I may ask?”
Duncan turned his head. “Come on out, Beau, H. J.”
H.J. and Gibbons emerged from the bushes to stand behind the two Guardsmen who were standing behind Duncan. From the front of the truck, Beau, Chief Judiah, and Ensign Helli well emerged.
“Very good, Captain,” said Yosef. He snapped his fingers twice.
From behind H.J. two Guardsmen rose from the bushes, their weapons trained on her and Gibbons. Behind Beau another group of three appeared from the shadows.
“Very good, Colonel,” said Duncan. He raised his hand. “Monkey! Mcdonald!”
Monkey and Mcdonald stepped out behind the five Guardsmen. Their machine guns pointed forward.
Yosef raised his hands and motioned the Guardsmen forward. They moved in front of the SEALs and joined their comrades.
“Touche, Captain,” Yosef said admiringly. He grinned. “I guess it is true what they say about your Navy SEALs.”
“I wouldn’t know, Colonel. I never listen to rumors.”
The two shook hands, satisfied they had earned each other’s respect.
A cell phone rang, breaking the momentary silence. Bashir frantically patted the numerous pockets of his outfit. Finally, he grinned as his hand touched the telephone. Bashir turned his back to the group and walked away as he answered it. His deep bass voice, speaking a Bedouin dialect, carried through the compound.
“Captain, some of these people must leave with me,” said Alneuf.
“Colonel Yosef and his men must come. I cannot leave them behind. It would be unconscionable; a de facto condemnation to certain death. Mr. Bashir, who is on the phone, refuses to leave. He argues that his group will meld safely back into the population without anyone discovering their assistance to me. I pray that he is right.”
“How many are we talking, Colonel?”
“I have eleven men, myself, and the President.” “Thirteen,” Duncan said aloud.
Yosef’s twelve and Duncan’s eight made twenty for the two eight-man boats. President Alneuf made twenty-one. It would be tight, but they could do it. His team could hold onto the sides or swim independently as they moved out. They were only taking one civilian. The colonel’s men were professionals like the SEALs. Unfortunately, they were soldiers. Hope they can swim.
Bashir flipped the phone closed. “Colonel, we have company coming. At least two trucks full of rebels. My nephews tried to catch the ones who escaped, but they must have had a radio or a telephone in their truck. My nephews are heading this way and coming fast. The soldiers are about two kilometers behind them, and my nephews are five kilometers from here. We have less than ten minutes before they arrive.”
Duncan looked at his watch. “It’s another hour before our transportation arrives.”
“We have no choice, Captain,” Colonel Yosef said urgently. “Two truckloads can be more than fifty men. I do not have the arms or the men to fight them, and even if we did, as soon as they suspect that President Alneuf is here, they’d have helicopters and aircraft overhead before first light. We have to go.”
“Is there someplace we can hold up for thirty minutes until we get out to sea?”
“That won’t help, Captain. What if we get out to sea and your transportation is not there? What then?”
“What do you suggest, Colonel?” Duncan asked as his mind quickly weighed the pros and cons of the situation. Suddenly, the insides of the USS Albany seemed very attractive.
“We leave,” Yosef said.
Then the colonel shouted, “Quick, everyone into the track. Hurry.”
Turning to Duncan, he said, “We’ll head west toward Bashir’s village.
There, we can get a boat and head out to sea. Can you make other transportation arrangements?” Yosef asked anxiously.
“Probably, but if we hurry we can get out to sea before they arrive,” Duncan suggested again. “We have rubber boats on the beach and we can go wait offshore a couple of miles for the rendezvous. They’ll be there.”
“Captain, I appreciate what you are doing, but as I said, you can’t be sure that your transportation will be there.” “You’re a soldier, Colonel. The plan says they’ll be there. If not, we’ll just …” His voice trailed off.
“If they’re not there, Captain, then we will be what you Americans call, shitting ducks!”
“Sitting ducks,” Duncan corrected. “We may be sitting ducks, but I have strong confidence the submarine will be there.”