“I spoke to two villagers who were working for your friends,” Gino told Marmor. “Neither would give me a straight answer on what happened, but I was able to convince them,” he smiled a less-than-friendly smile, “to point me to the man who got the jobs for them—a gent named Aban Parvez. Seems he’s the local big-shot and go-to guy for work in the area.”

  “You will not be surprised,” Aesop put in, “to learn that Mr. Parvez lives in the house to which Mr. Bivens tracked our late night stroller.”

  “There’s more than that,” Gino added. “When we knocked on his door, I noticed that there was a canteen on his table.” He looked around the table. “It was an Iranian Army canteen.”

  “That proves nothing.” Marmor leaned forward. “There were a number of battles throughout this area; he could have picked a canteen up anywhere…”

  “This one looked new to me, not thirty years old.” Gino shook his head. “He’s our man all right, I’m sure of that.”

  “So what do we do next?”

  “We follow our mission plan.” Flame leaned back, eyes going over his team, gauging their readiness from their expressions. “We’ll do a final brief now and move out when the sun goes down.”

  “SEALs own the night.” Aesop grinned. “And so do their friends.”

  “Fixer will lead me through that little wart of a military base to wherever it is the hostages are being held.”

  “While he’s doing that,” Gino put in, “Topper and I will move into position to cover the evac.”

  “Will you take the vehicles?” Marmor’s companion spoke for the first time and Flame was surprised to hear a thick Russian accent.

  “The minigun stays here—as a mobile reserve and to keep our base safe,” Dana noted. “If it’s needed, I’ll take it out with Bremby on the gun.”

  “The C&C vehicle also stays,” Flame said. “The reasons should be obvious.” He looked at the others. “Aesop will drive the vehicle configured for passengers—he’ll ferry us to the drop point and hold there to pick up the hostages.” He paused for a moment. “We’ll take the Land Rover too—it’s good in the desert and we might need the extra space if one of more of the hostages is injured.” Flame lifted one of the earbuds he and his people had become accustomed to using. “We’ll stay in touch with these.” He nodded at Bivens. “Eric can maintain them on an unbreakable frequency that only our equipment can pull up.”

  “As long as you put the repeater down where I told you,” reiterated Eric.

  “Already done,” Flame said.

  “Everyone will move out as soon as our people secure the hostages.” Dana looked around. “That covers it.”

  “Everyone good?” He looked around the group, waited for the nods. “Okay, Bremby has the watch. Bivens,” he glanced at the computer expert. “You keep an eye on this Parvez character and let us know if he moves. You might monitor the normal Iranian military frequencies—he could have a radio in his house.”

  “Already got a monitor going.” Bivens nodded. “I’ll let you and Dana know if we catch anything.”

  “Right on top of things,” Flame smiled. “I like that.” He turned to the rest of the group. “Everyone who doesn’t have a job right now, go get some more rest.” He pushed back from the table. “Fixer will be back at the rendezvous point at twenty-two hundred—we’ll need to be ready to meet him at that time.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Aesop’s visit terrified Aban Parvez. He stared at the two huge men who’d knocked on his door with wide, terrified eyes, sure that they could smell his guilt. He’d tried to keep his fear under control but when the smaller of the two looked into the house and saw the canteen he had so carelessly left in plain view…

  He came perilously close to fainting—which would have forever dishonored him.

  Now, though, with the Americans gone and everything seemingly back to normal, he wondered what he should do. They may see me if I try to get back to Kaveh, he told himself. And they might be able to monitor my radio. He shook his head. Perhaps I should do as I was told—present myself at their camp and attempt to get them to hire me.

  The two men hadn’t appeared to be looking for help, but if he presented himself in the right light, hinted at things that he might know…

  It’s worth a try. He settled his shemagh over his shoulder and started for the door—then hesitated. They already saw it; perhaps they will be less suspicious if I carry it openly. Parvez nodded, proud of his tactical thinking. Yes! That will fool them!

  He took a long step back into his house, picked up the canteen he’d taken from the Iranians, made sure it was full and draped it over his shoulder.

  Let us see just what these infidels plan to do in my country. He nodded once. And make sure they cannot accomplish anything that might hurt our cause.

  He settled the canteen into place and started down the rude road that led to the camp, arriving while Flame and his men were still involved in de-briefing Aesop and Gino.

  They are all gathered in the big tent, he realized. I might have a chance to learn something…

  He moved as close to the flap as he dared, leaning in close so he could hear what they were saying.

  “…move out as soon as our people secure the hostages.” He heard a woman say.

  Hostages! The word startled him. They know that Kaveh has taken their people! That means… He turned away, anxious to return to his house and contact the Iranian officer.

  He’d barely taken a step when a huge hand slapped down on his shoulder, clamping down tight before he could slip away.

  “Going somewhere?” Aesop asked.

  ***

  “He was just outside?” Dana stared at the Arab who had been dragged before him. “And you say you know him?”

  “His name is Aban Parvez,” Aesop smiled. “We were just talking about him.”

  “I see.” She turned to Flame. “You and the others get some rest; I’m sure Aesop and I…”

  “And the two of us,” Marmor put in.

  “Can handle our new friend.”

  “Yeah.” Flame smiled. “I’m sure you can.” He motioned for the others to follow him out of the tent. “Let us know what you find out.”

  “I will.” Dana waited for the team to file out, then: “Put him in that chair please, Aesop.”

  Parvez’ mind was spinning. This man—this giant of a man—takes orders from this tiny woman? What kind of people are these Americans? They allow a woman to have power over them?

  He was about to find out a great deal about American women.

  ***

  As Dana started to question Aban Parvez, a few kilometers away, Kaveh el-Mafty was considering ending his own interrogation.

  “This one is not going to tell us anything useful,” Kaveh told his second-in-command. Sgt. Bahadur Qazwini had been with the young lieutenant for three years now. Each had learned to trust the other—although that was hard for Bahadur at present. The sergeant was old enough to have fought in the war with the Iraqis and found it hard to trust Kaveh’s Iraqi friend, Aban.

  “Perhaps he has nothing important to say.” The sergeant looked at the beaten and bloody form of Professor Parfitt. “I can’t believe he would have taken this much of a battering otherwise.”

  “He knows something, Bahadur. I am sure of it!”

  “Perhaps the other ‘professor’?” The older fighter nodded toward the closet in which they’d been keeping the other man. “He’s been listening to your conversation with this one—perhaps he will be wiser?”

  “Perhaps.” Kaveh thought about it. “Or perhaps we should bring in one of the women.” He looked at his sergeant. “Western men act oddly when women are in danger. Perhaps we can use that to our advantage.”

  “Shall I get one of the women now?”

  “No,” Kaveh glanced at his watch. “It is late.” He touched Parfitt’s cheek, turning the man to face him. “I will let this one think about it first.” He slapped Parfitt across the mouth. “Think of what we will do with the women he brought here. What we will do while he watches…”

  Kaveh nodded and motioned for the Sergeant to join him. “Tomorrow, my friend. We will bring the women here tomorrow.” He smiled and glanced back into the pain-filled the eyes of Gary Parfitt. “Tomorrow we will have the answers we require.”

  ***

  Liz McKinnon yawned as she took one last look around the little base. Nothing had moved for nearly an hour—not even the guard who stood in front of the squat windowless building she had decided was a headquarters. I guess everyone’s asleep. She glanced around the concrete box she was trapped in and saw that her two cellmates were also stretched out on their beds. I’d better join them. She sat on the blanket that covered her own mat. It’s funny, but I can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching. She shook her head. Stupid. She pushed the blanket aside and lay down. The whole camp is asleep, who’d be watching?

  She stretched out and sighed. It’s just wishful thinking…

  ***

  Less than a hundred yards away, Paul “Fixer” Francis made a final survey of the camp. He’d quickly identified the half-built brig and moved into a position to see if the hostages were inside. It took time but he finally arrived at a position where he could get a look through the slit that served as a window. I know there are some blonde Arabs, he told himself. But how likely is it that one would be locked up here? He shook his head. No, the girls are in there. He moved a little to one side. But where are the two professors? He glanced at his watch. He suspected they were in the headquarters building—but had no way to be sure. What do I tell Flame? He shook his head. He’s going to think he was right about Marine Recon.

  Francis shrugged and backed away from his hidey-hole. There’s nothing I can do about that. I only have about an hour to reach the rendezvous point—I have to start now.

  He looked back over his shoulder, eyes on the concrete blank that he knew to be the headquarters building. I only wish I had enough time to take a look inside. Another shrug. I guess it’ll have to wait until later.

  Out of sight now, he picked up his pace. It wouldn’t do to make the others wait.

  ***

  “What did he tell you?” Flame asked as he began to gear up for the mission.

  “More than I expected.” Dana handed him his armor and watched as he shrugged it on. “Aban Parvez is not, in fact, Iraqi. He is Iranian—wounded and left behind when the last Iran/Iraq war ended.”

  “Interesting.” Flame put on his web belt and harness, checking that all of his ammo was within reach. “Why didn’t he just go home?”

  “He met a girl, started a family.” Dana shrugged. “The usual story.” She watched Flame sling an ALICE bag loaded with four claymores over his shoulder. “It wasn’t until the son of one of his friends, now an officer in the Revolutionary Guard, looked him up that he even thought about his old life.”

  “Let me guess—they threatened his family.”

  “No.” Dana shook her head. “The officer did nothing of the sort—just let him know that he was in the area and asked him to keep an eye out for odd doings.” She smiled. “He didn’t even see the damned drones crash—he just reported the two western professors in the area and this officer, Kaveh, did the rest.”

  “He gave up all that so quickly?”

  “He would have told me more if he knew anything else.” She handed Flame the brand new 1911 Colt Bremby had modified for him, watched him slide it into a shoulder holster. “Aesop terrifies him and I…” She smiled. “I am like a creature from another planet as far as he’s concerned.”

  “I can see that.” Flame picked up the AK-47 he was carrying for this mission, checked the magazine and slung it across his chest. “Women aren’t very highly regarded in these parts.”

  “Well, Bivens and I charted the data he gave us about the Iranian camp.” She handed him a piece of paper. “See if it matches what Fixer comes up with—if it doesn’t…”

  “If it doesn’t, let Bremby have a shot with him—he was a first class interrogator back in the day.”

  “I’ll do that.” She stepped close, put a hand on his shoulder. “You be careful—hear?”

  “I’ll be fine.” Flame smiled. “And you were right…” He nodded. “I need this.”

  “Get it done, SEAL.” She stood on tiptoe and gave him a whisper of a kiss on the cheek. “Bring ’em back alive.”

  “Roger that.” Flame pushed the tent flap aside and stepped into the night.

  ***

  Francis arrived at the little wadi where he was supposed to meet the others just as the first vehicle—the Range Rover—squealed to a start.

  “Twenty-two hundred on the nose.” The marine grinned. “Nice to work with somebody who’s punctual.”

  “Feeling is mutual.” Flame waited while the Aesop’s Safir rolled in behind his own car. “What do you have for us?”

  “Well, the girls are in a little brig on one side of the camp…”

  “Hold on.” Flame pulled up the most recent map of the military base—newly updated with the information Dana had culled from Aban’s interrogation. “That would be this building here, right?” He touched his finger to the map as the rest of the men gathered around.

  “Right,” Francis said as he studied the drawing. “Barracks are here, here, and here—although I’m not sure that the third one is occupied.” He touched a smallish building to one side. “This is the mess hall, headquarters is over here.” He looked at Flame. “I think that’s where the two professors are being held.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “No way to be sure.” Francis shook his head. “Building has shuttered windows so I couldn’t see in.” He shrugged. “But I can tell you that the only ones who went in and out were the lieutenant who seems to be in charge and his sergeant who looks to be an old-timer.”

  “That’s probably the place, then.” Flame nodded. “How many troops in all?”

  “Looks like between 170 and 180.” Francis touched the barracks. “Each of these buildings was built to hold between eighty and ninety men.”

  “Anything else? Sentries? Dogs?”

  “They’re sloppy with sentries.” He touched a point in front of the headquarters building. “One man on guard here.” His finger shifted to a smaller building on the outskirts of the camp. “Another over here.” He glanced up at Flame. “That’s their motor pool.”

  “What do they have?”

  “Four Safirs like this one,” he said, and nodded to their own vehicle. “Along with some kind of civilian sedan and a couple of motorcycles.”

  “Okay.” Flame looked at the eager faces that surrounded him. “Seems to be about what we expected.” He turned to Gino. “You take top cover; shoot anyone that pops up at an odd angle.”

  “Pleasure.” Gino looked down at the map. “Where do you want me?”

  “On top of the brig.” Flame pointed at the little building. “Good lines of sight and it’ll be the first place we secure.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Fixer,” Flame spoke as he turned to the Recon Marine. “You take Topper here and make sure we get a warning if someone comes out of the barracks.”

  “How do you expect us to do that?”

  “Take these.” Flame handed him the ALICE bag full of claymores. ”Set them up to cover the barrack’s doors.”

  “Yeah.” Francis nodded. “That should do the trick.”

  “We’ll signal when we have the girls safely out,” Flame touched his earbud, creating a single BEEP that the others nodded to indicate they heard. “I’ll make sure there’s nothing available in the motor pool to follow us then join you two to break into the headquarters building and get the professors out.”

  “Sounds good.” Topper nodded and hefted the M4 that he favored. “Let’s do it.”

  Aesop watched, fingering his artificial leg, as the four men trotted back down the path Francis had used. He wished he could go with them—feel what they felt.

  He sighed and dropped into the Safir to check out his rifle. He had his own mission—and he was damn sure going to carry it out!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Liz McKinnon was awakened as something touched the big toe of her left foot. Probably just a bug. She’d seen plenty of them since she got to this place. She shook her foot to drive the creature away…

  And it touched her again.

  “What the hell?” She sat up—and was shocked to see a very tall redheaded man just outside her cell. The man was holding a finger to his lips.

  “Quiet,” he whispered. “Wake the others.” He looked over his shoulder. “And make sure they keep it down!”

  Liz stared at him for a moment—then realized that he must be there to rescue her.

  “Get ’em up!” He grinned. “I’ll get the door open.”

  Liz nodded dully and turned toward Kaylee—she knew that the youngest of the girls would be the hardest to keep quiet and was ready when the redhead’s mouth opened, ready to scream.

  “Quiet, Kay!” She held her hand across her friend’s lips. “He’s on our side!”

  “Shit!” Kaylee whispered and nodded understanding.

  “Just stay here for a moment.” Liz crawled over Kaylee and headed for Mandy’s bunk. She knew waking the blonde girl could be a problem: Liz had seen Mandy sleep through both thunderstorms and earthquakes.

  Now though, as the big redhead bent the lock free of its hasp, Mandy sat bolt upright and cried out: “What’s happening! Who’s there?”

  Liz threw herself onto her friend, trying desperately to shut her up—but it was too later, all of them heard something bang hard in the tiny guard’s quarters that abutted the cell.

  Shit! Liz turned to look at the big redhead—he had flattened himself against the wall, a long knife suddenly in his hand. He waited, motionless, as feet shuffled in their direction, then, when the door opened, grabbed the jailer around the neck. Liz could see him draw the knife back…