Page 95

“They’ve seen us?”

“I don’t know if they’ve seen us, but they’ve heard us coming for thirty minutes. What do you want to do?”

Raphael considered, then said, “Keep going. Put the lights on. Let’s see if we can get past them.”

The driver did so, illuminating the small goat track and amazing Raphael that anyone would actually dare to drive on it. They went forward, the lights illuminating a checkpoint with a small pickup truck blocking the road, the truck itself painted in United Nations colors.

Two men appeared out of the darkness, and both were wearing United Nations uniforms. Raphael said, “What the hell is this? I thought you said they were to the south?”

Tariq pulled out his pistol and said, “They are. These are not United Nations.”

The driver pulled up next to them and Raphael saw both men were armed with AK-47s and both were wearing the blue beret of the United Nations. The driver talked to them in Arabic, the conversation going back and forth. Eventually, he rolled up the window and conducted a three-point turn, then headed back the way they’d come.

Raphael said, “What are we doing?”

Tariq said, “Going back to the valley. We can’t continue here. Our path is blocked.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means your mission is done. We can’t continue on. I’m sorry,but those men are not with me. I can’t pay them off, and I can’t call someone to let us through.”

Raphael said, “Stop the car.”

“What?”

“Stop the car. Now. We’re out of view of the checkpoint.”

The driver did, and Raphael said, “We need to be in Syria tomorrow. Can you do that now, from a different crossing?”

“Tomorrow? No way.”

Raphael said, “Then we go tonight.”

“How do you propose we do that?”

He reached for his backpack, pulling it forward, saying, “Are you sure those guys aren’t United Nations personnel?”

“Yes. This location is run by the battalion from Nepal. They even make a joke about being the ones that have to work here because they’re from the land of Everest. The people we talked to at that checkpoint spoke Arabic. Nobody in Nepal speaks Arabic. They’re fake, and I don’t know who they are, but I’m not going to cross them until I talk to my bosses.”

Meaning Hezbollah.

Raphael said, “We’re going through.”

Tariq said, “You can’t shoot those guys. The real UN post is right up the hill, on top of the peak. They’ll react before we can get away.”

Raphael said, “Unless I use my worthless air gun.”

Leonardo helped him unpack the weapon, which wasn’t an “air gun” at all, but an Umarex AirSaber arrow rifle. With a folding stock and a cylinder below that held the compressed air, it could fire an arrow faster than any compound bow, and just as silently.

Tariq said, “What are you going to do?”

“Get back up there and eliminate the threat. Those guys are working for someone else, and if it’s not the UN, and not Hezbollah, it’s not our problem, right?”

Tariq nodded, and Raphael pulled out a quiver of four small carbon fiber arrows with wickedly sharp broad heads. He said, “I’ll be right back.”

He went out on foot, circling around the dirt track they’d used, seeing the high ground illuminated by the stars. He crept up the crest of the ridge, then saw the truck to his front. He advanced slowly, identifying the two men by the light of the cigarettes in their mouths. He took a knee and loaded an arrow.

The best part about the AirSaber was its lack of signature when used. It was as quiet as a person exhaling, making it much more silent than any suppressed weapon. The worst part was he had to reload it like an old-fashioned muzzleloader from the Civil War, cramming in a new arrow for the next shot. Meaning it wasn’t quick. Because of that, he was forced to wait until the two were separated, giving him the ability to take them down individually.