The Icarus Prediction: Betting it all has its price (23 page)

Sarah took a deep breath, still in shock from what happened. She rubbed her shoulder and was relieved that nothing appeared to be broken. The Turkish pilot who witnessed the last thirty seconds of mayhem yelled back and asked if she was OK, to which she nodded. Then her focus quickly turned to Jarrod. She crawled over to the far side of the plane, where her long-range radio (really just a walkie-talkie on steroids) was buzzing with the sound of static. “Jarrod, are you OK? Please report status.”

Silence. Three seconds went by before she tried again. Then again. After the eighth time, she slumped to the floor. “Goddamn it, Jarrod! Please respond!”

For the first time in four years, she teared up and buried her hands in her face. A flash of memories filled her head, including Jarrod taking a proverbial bullet for her actions in Beirut. “
What the hell are you doing?
” was all she recalled him saying from that day when she decided to go rogue. She kept hearing his voice in her head.

Except it wasn’t in her head. It was a crackled response from the radio. “What the hell just happened? Are you OK?”

“Jarrod, thank God! I thought Eli shot you point-blank in your back.”

“He did, but my vest stopped it. It sent me spinning for a few seconds, but I’m all right. I’ll have a nasty bruise in the morning. Thank God he didn’t hit one of my grenades. That would have been messy. Were you able to neutralize him?”

“You can say that I convinced him to depart the flight a bit earlier than he wanted.”

There was a pause, then Jarrod said, “Thank God you are OK, Sarah. Please be cautious. Eli must have been some sort of double agent, but for whom I’m not sure. There was no way he was a Chechen sympathizer. We can alert Koksol later. We have no time now.”

“No time? Jarrod, have you already identified a target?”

“Yes, I think we are in the right place. There is a cabin next to the communication tower about a kilometer away. I can definitely see movement. I see two dark gray or brown unmarked Land Rovers, one of which is heavily armored. There also appear to be a handful of armed soldiers, only they are not wearing standard-issue Turkish cammo.”

With that, Sarah signaled the pilot to circle around and pass low so she could meet with Jarrod at the rendezvous point a few hundred meters from Jarrod’s current location. Jarrod was on an opposite ridge on the mountaintop so he could observe without blowing his cover. Even better or perhaps luckier, it looked like the plane hadn’t alarmed the terrorists…at least not yet.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Taurus Mountain Top

Southeastern Turkey

Jarrod checked his watch and figured he had approximately twenty-four minutes until Sarah was to touch down. He wanted to put it to good use. He decided to get a closer vantage point on the foggy mountaintop to formulate a plan. Jarrod hid his chute between some rocks and rotting moss covered logs in the dense woods. The observation tower was about a kilometer up a dirt switchback road that zigzagged its way up the mountainside. He made sure to keep about a safe distance from the road itself in case the terrorists were coming back (or leaving for that matter). About a hundred meters from the cabin, Jarrod decided to get a bit closer to the gravel road as the terrain was easier to navigate than the thick underbrush. Jarrod suddenly heard shouts in the distance along with random bursts of fire in his general direction, which quickly got his undivided attention.

Jesus,
he thought.
My impatience may have just gotten me killed
. He took off in a sprint toward a denser (and foggier) portion of the woods while distant shouts and continued bursts of fire seemed to follow close behind.

Jarrod wedged himself behind a large rock between him and his assailants. As he paused to catch his breath, the absurdity of the situation hit him.
This is insane. I’m a god damn stock trader
, he thought.
What the hell am I doing here? A few weeks ago, I was drinking a mojito on a freaking yacht.

Bullets ricocheted off the rough terrain around him. He fumbled in his pocket and took out his phone, using it as a mirror to see what he was up against. There were a hundred yards between him and the terrorists who were trying to take him down. He counted four guys total. Two of the commandos were within fifty yards, both shooting randomly from behind forty-foot pine trees. The other two took refuge behind a dusty gray Jeep parked outside the outpost. There was also an armored green Land Rover parked about 20 yards from the cabin. The two behind the Jeep were yelling back and forth to each other and pointing repeatedly to the Land Rover like it was housing a dragon. On a positive note, the two commandos that were closer to Jarrod seemed confused about his whereabouts, as they were now firing randomly into the opposite side of the woods.

Jarrod nudged a bit closer to the boulder that was offering him protection and taking a moment to think to himself
, I’m still alive, that’s somewhat of a positive, but what the hell is in that Land Rover?

He then quickly pulled the phone down and took a few short deep breaths in succession. He thought about what he saw.
If the triggerman is here, wouldn’t they have just blown the pipeline when they spotted me? So either the triggerman isn’t here after all... or could it be possible the detonator is in that Rover?
He put the phone up again and saw a fifth man with a beard exit the cabin toward the commandos.

“Holy shit! That’s Basayev!” he blurted. He picked up his radio and whispered as loudly as he could. “Sarah, I’ve got myself into a bit of a bind here. Let me know if you are at the rendezvous point yet.” No response. He figured she was still parachuting in, hopefully safely.

The two commandos that were a stone’s throw from Jarrod continued to slowly move in the opposite direction, indicating that they didn’t know exactly where he was. Jarrod crawled to his left to get a better vantage point. Basayev was also yelling furiously at the other two guards and pointing to the Rover.” He heard one or two words but in the chaos, he couldn’t make out the language. Jarrod heard the word “pill” over and over.

Jarrod was confused,
That doesn’t make any sense. Are they trying to protect some sort of drug trade as well?
Regardless, Jarrod needed some breathing room. The two commandos that were originally heading away from Jarrod changed course and were now closing in on him as they passed within a few dozen yards of the front of the Land Rover. Jarrod knew it was time for action.

I need a distraction to buy us some time,
he thought to himself. Jarrod then pulled the pin off one of the grenades from the belt and lobbed it as high as he could toward the two commandos who were now getting too close for comfort. The grenade was headed off track and it landed well short of the target but took a lucky bounce when it hit rock and rolled toward the commando’s right foot. Even better, the commando didn’t even notice it until the last second as he quickly bent down to try to redirect the grenade. Jarrod covered his ears out of habit moments before the impending blast. The explosion blew the weapon out of the terrorist’s hand. Well, technically, it blew off both the hand and the gun. Jarrod thought to himself,
One down and four to go
.

The grenade had the positive side effect of shattering the windows of the armored Land Rover. The terrorists were, at least temporarily distracted as they yelled to each other and were temporarily off Jarrod’s back. They took to a defensive position on the porch of the dilapidated cabin behind a mound of rotting logs.

“Need a hand?” Jarrod heart skipped a few beats as he turned toward the voice to see Sarah crouching next to him.

Jarrod was more than surprised, “What? How did you find me?”

“Are you joking? I have your GPS beacon coordinates, remember?”

“Right. So I’ll get you up to speed in the next five seconds. Basayev and three of his goons are in the area. Basayev and two are near the porch. One is in the woods, near the Rover, but he is tracking us. One has been neutralized. The detonator is in the armored Land Rover at three o’clock over there about thirty yards up that dirt path right in front of the cabin.”

“Wait. How do you know it’s in that Land Rover?” Sarah inquired.

“First of all, they haven’t blown the pipeline, and second, they go absolutely ape-shit every time I shoot near that Rover.”

“Jarrod, Let’s hope you are right. OK, so let’s blow up the Land Rover and then take out Basayev.”

“But it’s heavily armored. I bet if we get the grenades near the gas tank, it will blow it to pieces.”

“Great,” replied Sarah. “Weren’t you Bocce champion back in college?”

“Seriously, now is not the time for jokes,” Jarrod said with a hint of disbelief.

“Joking?
I’m serious
. Based on our position, if you roll the grenade, they may not see it coming until it is too late. You’ll have a few rolls before they catch on to our location. Make them count.”

“This is f-ing nuts,” Jarrod said before he paused to take a look around to weigh the alternatives. He didn’t see any good ones. “I guess it’s better than waiting around to get our heads blown off,” he concluded.

Jarrod took a quick peek around the rock to assess the situation. The three goons were still in defensive positions, firing randomly from time to time in their general direction. It was fairly clear they weren’t aware of Jarrod and Sarah’s exact positions due to the misty fog that was thickening around them.

Jarrod took a deep breath, then emerged partially from behind the huge rock. He took a moment to consider where he wanted the grenade to land and flung the grenade a few feet off the ground toward the SUV. Channeling his college intramural days, it hit about twenty yards from the SUV and was rolling right on track. Then it hit another rock and careened a dozen yards off course, to Jarrod’s dismay. “God damn these rocks,” Jarrod muttered. The grenade rolled right in the line of sight of the commandos on the porch. One came forward and quickly scanned the terrain to try to ascertain Jarrod’s location. At that very moment, the sun temporarily broke through the clouds and shone down, glistening off Jarrod’s watch and illuminating his position. Jarrod quickly retracted his wrist, but the commando pointed his weapon right at Jarrod’s location and fired off a few rounds. The sound of bullets hitting the ground and kicking up dust next to him made Jarrod move a little faster in taking cover.

Stupid Rolex
! Jarrod thought.

He heard the commandos yell something inside to Basayev, most probably to take cover. The grenade went off with a loud bang, scattering rocks and dirt for a dozen yards. Unfortunately, it didn’t do any damage whatsoever to the Land Rover, and to top it off, Jarrod had now telegraphed his location.

“Uh, Sarah, I think they are on to us.”

Sarah nodded, “I would tend to agree. And we’ve got more friends joining the party.”

She turned and pointed to another caravan of SUVs was ascending the mountain, kicking up a lot of dust and debris in the process. “About five minutes and we are going to be in a full on shitstorm.”

“I know, I know. Sarah, you are going to have to hold off this other caravan. I’ll try and make this one count.”

“Roger that. I’ll be back soon. Don’t screw up, ” Sarah quickly replied as she disappeared into the woods toward the switchback road to head off the oncoming SUVs.

As Jarrod was formulating his strategy for the next grenade roll, one of the commandos spontaneously made a beeline to the armored Land Rover. “Shit, they are going for the detonator!” Jarrod muttered. The scruffy-bearded commando quickly approached the grenade-damaged and bullet-ridden SUV and swung open the passenger door. He dove inside for temporary cover. Jarrod panicked. He took the grenade and flung it around the side of the rock he was hiding behind, hoping for a miracle roll. He peered around the rock as he crouched down to see if his Hail Mary actually would result in a touchdown. The grenade rolled like a runaway snowball down a mountain towards the SUV, and then Jarrod watched stunned at what he saw next.

One of the other commandos that was on the porch yelled out in what sounded like Farsi and then ran straight toward the grenade at full speed like he was trying to medal in the Olympics.
What the hell is he doing?
Jarrod thought as he watched the scene unfold. A few feet from the front of the SUV, near the hood, the commando went airborne and landed directly on the grenade, smothering it near his torso. What seemed like minutes went by as he lay there on the grenade, facedown. In reality, it was no more than two seconds. He was in the midst of yelling out in glorious victory before he was cut short, both literally and figuratively. The force of the grenade ripped through the commando with such force that the front of the armored Land Rover looked like it hit a deer at full speed.

“Are you kidding me?” Jarrod shrieked with genuine disbelief. The good news, if there was any, was that there were only two commandos left, plus Basayev. The bad news, however, was Jarrod now only had one grenade left. This was it; do or die. Or perhaps do
and
die?

Jarrod emerged from behind the rock to get a momentary clear line of sight. This was his last chance to destroy the detonator. Small puffs of dirt and debris accompanied the sound of bullets hitting the ground all around him, but Jarrod ignored them. Jarrod focused on the bottom of the Rover and flung the last grenade low against the barren ground as he continued to laterally move in a half-crouched position. The grenade rolled in slow motion over about twenty-five yards of rough terrain and then started to slow down about five meters from the target as it hit a dead patch of grass.

“Go, go, go!” Jarrod egged on the grenade like it was golf ball heading towards the hole on the 18
th
green. The remaining commandos started firing at the grenade, trying desperately to prevent it from reaching the Land Rover. While the terrorists were distracted, Jarrod squatted on the ground and took the opportunity to fire a few rounds. One hit its mark and landed in the chest of a commando on the porch. The commando clutched the wound and took a few steps toward Basayev, then grabbed his arm asking for help as blood dripped onto Basayev’s boots. Basayev took a second to look at the wound as he supported the commando’s slumping body. Basayev then calmly raised his weapon and coldly shot the commando in the head and point blank range, his body immediately crumpling onto the weathered wood below.

The commando still taking refuge in the Rover had finally emerged with a small box or contraption in his hands. Jarrod fired quickly and missed as the commando reached Basayev, stepping over the dead body of his comrade to hand Basayev the box. At the same time, the rolling grenade disappeared under the front of the SUV.

Basayev stood in the doorway of the cabin and yelled something unintelligible before staring directly at Jarrod. Even though they were dozens of yards away, Jarrod could feel the cold eye contact of the terrorist which paralyzed him for a split second. That split second would cost Jarrod dearly, as Basayev was able to fire off a few rounds in his direction. Jarrod felt a sharp searing pain in his left shoulder as his whole body was jerked backwards involuntarily. He lost his balance as he hit the ground, blood already seeping through his gray-brown outer vest. Jarrod wasn’t sure what happened, but his fear was confirmed as he pressed his hand against the pain and found his fingers bathed in red. Jarrod had gone through quite a number of things in his life, but getting shot wasn’t one of them.

Jesus, I am going to die out here!
Jarrod thought. The pain in his shoulder was so intense, he couldn’t think about anything else. He tried to drown out the discomfort, his eyes uncontrollably watering up in response to the trauma. A spray of bullets pushed him back toward cover as he crawled on his stomach using the strength from his other arm.