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“Havoc, pull behind that hill. I see headlights coming up. If we get stopped,” T-Rex said, “we have the bribe money. But let’s try to talk our way out of this.”
“If they ask about the night vision, I’ll offer it to them as a gift.” Havoc grinned. “And say that we wanted to go fishing, but our lights would scare away the fish.”
“Yeah, fishing. That might work better if we had some poles or tackle and weren’t heading in the wrong direction for finding water.” Nomad had his binoculars trained on the truck. “AKs,” Nomad whispered so they could focus on any exterior noises. “I’m counting seven in the back.
The men held their breath as an open-bed truck rumbled by.
Once the taillight moved over the next berm, T-Rex lassoed a finger in the air. “Let’s move. The sky is brightening up. I want to be within shouting distance of that wall and hunkered down until our rally time.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nomad
His back to the wall, hidden by the early-morning shadows, Nomad trained his binoculars on the horizon, scanning for any movement. T-Rex and Havoc ranged further out to keep from bunching into an easy target should things go south.
When Nomad signaled an all-clear, T-Rex raised his fist to his mouth and coughed three times.
A moment later, a rope ladder flew over the twenty-foot wall, placed exactly over the graffiti. T-Rex grabbed it before it smacked him in the face. He climbed in silence and once over the top, he signaled Nomad and Havoc to follow.
What limited gear they had chosen to bring with them was in a single backpack.
They left the Syrian cash in the car they abandoned at the designated GPS coordinate. Hopefully, it would land in the hands of the guy risking his safety and vehicle to accomplish the Poole mission.
It was best that they weren’t carrying Syrian pounds in Lebanon.
Throwing a leg over the wall, Nomad took a moment, using the height to scan. He’d imagined that there would be a house and garden, a bit of an olive grove, and a dairy goat or two. But no, there was nothing and no one. Just dirt and a vehicle. “Who threw the rope over?” he asked.
“Cloud of dust from spinning tires was all I could see by the time I got over the top.” T-Rex looked toward the van, whichwas unremarkable in every way imaginable. “Rory would come in handy right about now.”
“If there are papers on the front seat like we were told,” Havoc was making his way over to the passenger side, “I say we’re golden.” He put a gloved hand to his brow and looked in. “Good to go,” he called.
The keys sat in the drink holder. There was a file with papers. On the second-row bench, shopping bags stamped with golden clothing store logos lined up in a neat row.
“I’m about starved,” Havoc said, pulling out a bag and handing it off to T-Rex.
“Nothing new there.” T-Rex dragged a pair of desert tactical pants out, held them to his waist, and then handed them to Havoc. “I hope like hell these are for you. What do you want to do about eats?”
Havoc dragged another bag over and handed it to Nomad. “Remi’s been working with you on your accent, right T-Rex? Just go in and act like a local and grab us something.”
“If he walks in and just glowers at anyone who wants to talk to him, I think they’ll shut up,” Nomad said, opening another bag. “Here we go. Extra longs, these are for us.” Nomad looked over to Havoc. “Some bread and cheese would be easy.”
“And a bottle of wine, we can have a romantic picnic in the mountains.” Havoc opened a third bag. “Hey, hey, hey! Look what I found. Someone’s taking good care of us!”
“What’s there?” T- Rex asked, standing on the toes of his boots as he stripped down to his boxers.
“Let’s see. The bread and cheese Nomad wanted. Olives … dolma, a bag of tomatoes. Another of dates. What is this? Anyone know what this is?” Havoc pulled the lid off a plastic container.
“Cherries with herbs.” Nomad dragged his new pants up his leg.
Havoc used a plastic spork to shovel up a bite. He closed his eyes as he chewed. “Oh, man, wow. Hey, that’s good.”
Nomad looked up from clasping his belt. “Are you getting a little teary-eyed, Havoc?”
“I always do around food ever since that mission in Kyrgyzstan.”
“That or you miss your mom’s pot roast,” T-Rex said. “Imiss your mom’s pot roast.”
“Yup. Always.” Havoc tucked the food back in the bag and worked on changing his own clothes. They kept their boots. There were new ones, but new hurt. And new stood out as unauthentic.