The Keepers of the Persian Gate (6 page)

“Ah, yes, of course, now I remember,” said Colonel Abdullah.

“Gentlemen, what about a game of poker to calm the Minister’s nerves after a long journey?” said the Mechanic.

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” said Nasser.

The four men made their way to a private side room of the main casino floor. A waitress followed them in.

“I’ll have a cigar,” said the General.

“Soda water and lime, please,” said Nasser.

“Whiskey,” said the Colonel, smiling. “The good thing about not being in Libya is not having to observe the rules of our culture.”

“Mr. Sannallah, would you mind pushing the button underneath your seat. It activates the light on the outside of the booth to say it is occupied,” said the Mechanic.

Nasser hit the button.

Back outside the hotel, there was absolutely no sight of the SEALs as Paddy waited on the steps. However, this was to be expected. After all they specialised in being invisible. After a few moments, he spotted three pronounced flashes of a torch from inside the woods, about two hundred yards from his position. Paddy took this as confirmation that the message had been received.

Back in the casino, Nasser drew the big blind, with Colonel Abdullah drawing the small blind. It was the four of them playing. “That will be $300 for the big blind and $150 for the small blind,” said the Dealer. Nasser obliged, as did the Colonel. The cards were then distributed for the pre-flop betting.

“I do hope that INTERPOL isn’t watching us. Apparently we’ve all been named in some sort of official UN Special Notice and all our assets have been frozen,” said the Colonel.

“Yes, they’ve issued a security alert concerning the ‘possible movement of dangerous individuals and assets’ based on the 1970 United Nations Security Council Resolution,” said the Mechanic.

“Praise be to Allah we’ve been all smart enough to siphon our money off to this beautiful place over the last few years,” said Nasser, smiling.

“Indeed. It used to be that I could put all my money in a bank in my home country of Switzerland and not have to worry about it. Now they can get to that. What has the world come to? Praise be to Allah for the Bank of Venezuela,” said the Mechanic.

Abdullah called the big blind; the General also called. The Mechanic paused.

“Fold,” he said.

“Cautious,” said the Colonel.

“Yes, well. I have learned the hard way to be very cautious among new company,” said the Mechanic.

Down went the flop. Things were looking good for Nasser; he already had three of a kind, Jacks.

“Raise $300,” said Nasser.

The Colonel folded.

“You know any of the history of this place?” said the Mechanic, turning to Nasser.

“No,” replied Nasser.

“Apparently, the Spanish Governor Juan Muñoz de Gadea had this magnificent place built in response to an attack by a Scottish pirate or buccaneer called Red Legs Greaves.”

“Fascinating,” said Nasser.

“You know what happens to pirates when they are caught?” asked the Mechanic.

The General smiled and counted his chips. “You know, I really am surprised that I have never met you before, Omar, honorary member of the government or not. I usually have to vet all members that are appointed. That was part of my job as Head of the Interior Ministry.”

“Lucky me, I guess,” said Nasser.

“Perhaps… Yes, I think you are right. I don’t think we have met. Your appointment would have come after I stepped down from the Interior Ministry,” said the General.

“Then that’s it solved,” smiled the Colonel.

“Not quite. You must be very lucky indeed, Omar,” said the General.

“What do you mean?” asked Nasser.

“I understood you had a little incident of your own a few days ago,” said the General.

Nasser looked at the General, slightly unnerved.

“The bomb attack on your convoy outside Sirte…you seem to have recovered well from your injuries. I understood you were hospitalized,” said the General.

Chapter 3

Retreat

ALEX AND ELVIS, sitting at the tables opposite, shared a knowing glance with each other. They could hear the conversation behind the curtain of the side room, but could not see what was going on. However, it seemed as though Nasser’s cover was about to be blown.

“Yes, just a few cuts and scrapes. Thankfully, I made it out alive,” said Nasser.

“Ah, yes, of course,” said the General, laughing.

The Mechanic gestured towards the Dealer who produced a handgun with a silencer from underneath the table and calmly pointed it at Nasser. The Mechanic put a finger to his lips. The Mechanic’s bodyguards were also unaware what was going on behind the curtain. Inside, a stand-off of sorts ensued for several moments. The Mechanic lifted out a pen and wrote on a napkin, showing it to Nasser.

“Who sent you?” said the note.

Nasser looked back at him and wrote on the napkin, “the Tooth Fairy”.

Unbeknownst to the others in the booth, Nasser quietly, slowly and deliberately started to press the back of his foot against the button underneath his seat, activating and deactivating the light outside. He managed to do it in a manner that did not draw the attention of the others in the room.

Marco, who was patrolling the edges of the roulette tables, glanced over to the room and saw the light flashing. It was Morse code, ‘SOS’ to be precise. Marco immediately recognised it from his days in the French Foreign Legion. He tried to draw the attention of Alex or Elvis without alerting the Mechanic’s bodyguards who were sitting opposite them outside of the poker booth. Finally, losing his patience, he waved his arms and Alex looked over. When they locked eyes, Marco pointed at the light above the curtain. Realising what was happening, Alex eyed Elvis who also looked up. Alex then nodded to Elvis and looked to the curtain as if to say ‘you go in’. Elvis nodded back.

Marco quickly rushed out of the doors of the hotel to Paddy, who was waiting on the steps. Paddy scrawled another note and sprinted over the flower pot to drop it in. Running back, he drew his weapon. The note read:

“Time to move. Mission compromised. Assistance required on casino floor. NOW”

Back in the Casino, Alex and Elvis jumped to their feet. Alex drew his weapon and shot both of the Mechanic’s bodyguards point blank before they could react. Meanwhile, Elvis burst into the poker room, shooting the Dealer in the back of the head, but not before the Dealer got a shot off, hitting Nasser in the right of the chest. All hell broke loose and, out of nowhere, several plain-clothed men on the casino floor produced weapons and began opening fire on the booth. Alex held the General, Colonel and the Mechanic on the ground at gunpoint whilst Elvis returned fire.

“Who the hell are these people?” shouted Alex.

“It’s the Venezuelan Secret Service. They guard this place!” replied Elvis.

Nasser was struggling for breath and was going to be pretty useless in a gun fight. Alex and Elvis pushed over the poker table on its side to form a makeshift palisade. Out on the casino floor, Marco began to engage the Venezuelan Secret Service. Paddy re-entered through the front door, but immediately came under fire and had to dive for cover behind a sofa in the reception. All parties let off shots from behind cover. However, it became clear that the international team were outnumbered by the Secret Service. A loud alarm sounded and the lights outside the hotel lit up. Marco retreated to Paddy’s position.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Marco.

“It’s not going to be long before the Venezuelan Army gets here,” warned Paddy.

At that moment there were three loud bangs around the casino floor. The windows had been smashed by explosives. Immediately, the lights went out and the sprinkler system engaged. Amidst the shouting, it became clear that the SEALs had swung into action, entering through the windows. Within seconds the SEALs were over with Paddy and Marco.

“What’s the situation?” asked the Lieutenant.

“We have plainclothes Secret Service all over the floor. It’s hard to tell precisely how many there are. Elvis, Alex and Nasser are over in that booth with the Mechanic and two others,” said Paddy.

“Right, we’ll clear the room and evacuate ASAP,” said the Lieutenant.

More SEALs moved in through the front door, firing smoke grenades onto the casino floor. Systematically, they effectively liquidated each member of the Venezuelan Secret Service. Several SEALs eventually made it to the poker room and moved out the Mechanic and the Libyans, whilst Alex and Elvis assisted Nasser.

When they made it to the rendezvous point in the woods, Lieutenant Graham carried out a quick head count. “Right, that’s everyone. Is anyone hurt?” said the Lieutenant.

“Yes, Nasser,” said Paddy.

Nasser was still struggling to breathe.

“He’s been shot in the chest,” said Elvis.

“Nasser, can you move?” asked the Lieutenant.

Nasser nodded his head, gasping for breath. At that, the team moved through the brush closer to the shore. Although the beach was clearly in sight, there was a distinctive sound of trucks being mobilized in the distance.

“Do you hear that?” said Jake.

“Yeah! Jake, can you, Max and Taylor set up a perimeter three hundred yards from the boats. We will need to decide whether to ditch the boats and take cover,” replied Lieutenant Graham.

The Mechanic began screaming and shouting, trying to draw attention to the team’s location. “Help, Help, Help!” Paddy took the back of his pistol and hit the Mechanic over the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

As they approached the boats, Naval Special Warfare Development Group were guarding the beach. Marco and Paddy pulled the unconscious Mechanic onto the beach with the Libyan Colonel and General in tow.

“Wait!” said Marco.

“What’s that?” said Paddy.

In the distance, a helicopter could be seen overhead, coming along the ridge of the mountains.

“Is it coming this way?” said Marco.

“Yes!” said a member of the Special Naval Special Warfare Development Group.

“Let’s move back to the treeline,” shouted the Lieutenant.

As they retreated, the Lieutenant could make out the unmistakable sound of Jake’s unit opening fire on the approaching Venezuelan Army.

“Can we make a secure emergency call for a pick-up?” Lieutenant Graham asked his communications officer.

“We can make the call, but there’s no guarantee the Venezuelans won’t be listening,” replied the officer.

“Ok, send this message. ‘Primary objective achieved. Secondary objective not achieved. Under fire, move position of evac to…’” The Lieutenant paused to survey the dark coastline. “‘Move position one kilometre to the west. Watch for our signal.’ Right, guys, let’s move out.”

At that, a member of SEAL Team 6 approached Lieutenant Graham.

“We will cover your exit, sir. Do not stop for any reason,” he said.

“What about you guys?” replied Lieutenant Graham.

“Sir, you should know, we’re trained for exactly this type of thing, evade and disrupt.”

“I’ll be recommending all of you for the Medal of Honour, sailor.”

“Recommend that they come and rescue us if we’re captured!”

The team began to retreat through the treeline. The front line of the battle was about half a mile wide and this meant that SEAL Team 6 were having to space themselves out several hundred yards apart. There was then an inner layer that was backtracking, led by Jake, Max and Taylor. The remaining SEALs were up at the flank with the international team and prisoners being protected in the middle. The team retreated in layers: three members of SEAL Team 6 would cover the other retreating three who would then re-establish a position allowing the front three to retreat as well. This battlefield tactic was known to Paddy as ‘line dancing’, although he’d never seen it in action before.

There were now two helicopters in the air. As time went by and the team moved further and further away from the original evacuation point, the distance between the main team and SEAL Team 6 began to widen substantially. There also appeared to be more activity at ground level and more Venezuelan troops appearing in the distance.

Then there was a large explosion, quite close to Paddy’s position.

“Incoming, mortar fire!” called Elvis.

Paddy looked back and realised that although Taylor and the other SEALs in Jake’s sub unit had retreated, Jake himself had not.

“Keep moving!” Paddy shouted to the rest of the international team.

Paddy turned and crawled closer to Jake’s position. It was as he’d feared; the mortar had landed close to Jake. He pulled Jake over on his back and checked to see whether he was still breathing. Jake came to, slightly dazed and clearly shell-shocked. Paddy could make out further gunfire in the distance, and he estimated that there must have been about a half mile of separation between the front and the flank by this stage.

“Jake, I have to move you. Mortars are landing all over the show.”

Paddy lifted Jake onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Jake was not a small man, he was about six foot four and weighed over two hundred pounds. The mortars were becoming greater in frequency and more pronounced than before. Noticing a small pond, Paddy jumped in with Jake still on his back. He found some shrubbery over in the corner of the pond and covered their heads.

Meanwhile, at the flanks, the rest of the team had moved further down the beach. The Lieutenant decided that it was time to send a signal.

“Right, light up a dark candle.”

A dark candle was a special type of flare that had only been recently developed by the US military. It was designed to locate military personnel during compromised extractions. The flare emitted a unique ultraviolet light only visible through a special lens.

Within minutes, the Lieutenant could make out several high-speed craft coming toward the shore. These were the same craft that had been sitting offshore awaiting the signal. All members of the team, bar Paddy, Jake and SEAL Team 6, regrouped on the beach. The Lieutenant did a headcount.

“We’re missing Paddy and Jake!”

The Lieutenant ran back to the tree line and shouted. However, as he did, he noticed that the two helicopters were beginning to move closer to their location.