Seal team six extra size.., p.182
SEAL Team Six Extra-Sized Holiday Bundle,
p.182
Fixer nodded stiffly, mouth tight. “What do you plan on doing?”
“Hold on,” Flame checked the marine’s wound, saw the bleeding had indeed stopped and nodded. “Take this.” He handed a loaded AK to the other man. “Make sure nobody comes through that door.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to slip outside and…”
There was a loud CRACK.
“What was there?”
Again, CRACK.
“Sounds like the Barrett, but there’s no way…”
CRACK!
“Flame, Fixer!” Aesop’s voice rang through the night. “You’re all clear! Let’s get the hell out of here!”
***
Edward Said and Moshe Carmel were still stationed against the wall of their prison, listening, when the door crashed open.
“Come with us,” a huge redheaded man said. “Quickly.”
The two didn’t argue, they just followed him outside into the rain.
“This way.” He led them past another pre-fab that was missing a door. “They were holding a bunch of Thai sailors in there,” the redhead said, noticing their look. “They took off as soon as we opened the door.” He shrugged. “Guess they didn’t feel like they trusted us to help them.”
“Who are you?” Carmel finally asked.
“Some friends of yours asked us to get you home.” The big redhead smiled. “It turned out to be a little harder than we thought.” He stopped in front of another pre-fab and held out a hand. “Call me Flame.”
“I’m Moshe Carmel,” the Israeli said, as he took the hand. “But I suppose you know that.”
“And I am Edward Said.” The Palestinian maintained a slight distance from his companion. “My manservant is a prisoner in one of these buildings.”
“Tall man? Dark hair?” Fixer shook his head. “We found him dead over there.” He pointed to a building to one side. “Sorry.”
“Come inside here.” Flame gestured to the door, his tone brooking no disobedience.
“I thought you were taking us out of this place?” Said noted with just a hint of piqué in his voice.
“We will.” Flame’s face hardened. “But first you’re going to do something for us.” His eyes held Said’s. “Inside.”
The Palestinian shrugged and stepped through the door, cutting Carmel off as he did so. Inside, he saw nothing but bloody chaos. A number of bodies had been pushed to one side of the room to make room for two more Americans—one even bigger than the redhead. That individual was ministering to the other who seemed wounded.
“We need you to carry him.” Flame had followed Said inside and now stood next to him. “He can’t walk and Aesop injured himself saving our asses.”
“I wrenched my good knee.” The huge man smiled. “The prosthetic is fine.” He shook his head. “Weird world, right?”
“You want me to do what?” Said muttered.
“Carry Fixer there.” Flame gestured toward the wounded man. “I’m certainly not going to leave him behind.”
“Young man.” Said usually tried to overawe men with his height in this situation—something that was clearly not going to work with this group. “Do you know who I am?”
“We know who you claim to be.” Flame’s eyes were hard. “You claim to be Edward Wadie Said, a Palestinian-American literary theorist and public intellectual who helped found the critical-theory field of post-colonialism.” Flame’s eyebrow went up. “That Edward Said died more than ten years ago and he had no children.”
“I…”
“My briefing package says you are really one Azad Rahal, a member of the PLO currently employed by Mahmoud Abbas as a negotiator—why you use the Said name is really beyond me.”
“It gives him some class,” Aesop put in. “Makes him more important.”
“Maybe.” Flame nodded. “But right now the only thing I care about is how big and strong you are.” He shifted his Kalashnikov suggestively. “Now pick up my friend there and let’s get out of this dump.”
Said was taken aback by the man’s statement. They know who I am? He glanced at Carmel, saw that the other man was completely unsurprised by the revelation. Moshe too? He sighed, deflating. Ah well, he stepped to the wounded man’s side. At least I’m getting out of here in one piece!
***
The remainder of the rescue was almost too easy. Saba and her daughter, contacted by Aesop, pulled up at the compound gate just as Flame and his party arrived. They loaded Fixer in the Volkswagen along with Carmel—who had picked up an AK-47 somewhere along the way—and Said/Rahal who was busy trying to rub blood off his clothes.
Flame and Aesop took the truck the pirates had arrived in and followed the women back to their apartment and, after tending to Fixer’s wound as best they could, geared up and made their way back to the Zodiac.
Three hours later, they were rendezvousing with HMAS Toowoomba. Ensign Smith was on hand with a medical team that whisked Fixer away while Marmor did the same with their two rescued diplomats, leaving Flame and Aesop to unload their gear and secure the Zodiac. By the time they were done, the two men wanted only two things—a hot shower and something to eat.
They headed off to find one or the other.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“They’re in the air,” Bivens called out as Dana entered the office. “The Sinope people are using the same Hawker jet to bring them back here.”
“All of them?”
“Fixer is going to stay in Australia for a while.” Bivens smiled. “He says he’s ‘taking a little vacation’—Aesop says that Ensign Smith is really cute and probably worth the time.”
“How is Aesop?”
“Sprained knee—the flesh and cartilage one. Navy surgeon says it’ll be fine after a little rest.”
“And the two men they went after?”
“Marmor’s people picked them up as soon as the frigate docked. They’re trying to decide if it’s worth continuing the negotiation.” He shrugged. “From what Aesop told me, it just might be.” Bivens pushed away from his console. “I think you could call this mission successfully accomplished.”
“So they’re already airborne.” Dana nodded. “I guess we can expect them home sometime tomorrow.”
“Ah.” Bivens looked away. “Not quite that soon.”
“Why not?”
“Flame said he had a bill to pay.” Bivens shrugged. “I have no idea what he meant by that.”
“We’ll have to trust him to take care of whatever it is on his own,” Dana headed for her desk. “Unless he asks for help.”
***
Flame discovered that Marmor knew all about Saba’s husband—and his former first mate. He cornered the Englishman just after their plane took off on its return flight and pressed for some answers—answers the Sinope man was more than happy to give.
“Ismail Yusuf Hidig.” The rotund man nodded. “After he eliminated Dahir—Saba’s husband—he collected quite a bit of ransom from various oil companies.” He looked at Flame. “He specialized in tankers. I was always sorry that he retired before that whole Captain Phillips thing—it would have been nice to have your SEALs eliminate the bastard.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s been in Paris for more than ten years.” Marmor leaned back in his seat. “He became a French citizen in 2004, claimed he was an immigrant from Algeria.”
“Same name?”
“No,” Marmor shook his head. “He changed his name to ‘Ahmed Hadad’—no idea why he chose that name; it’s not even remotely Somali.”
“Maybe he’s trying to forget who he was.” Aesop sat down next to Flame. He was limping a little and Flame knew he had an Ace bandage wrapped around his knee. “And make everyone else forget too.”
“Perhaps.” Marmor shrugged. “The French Ministry of Justice certainly has no interest in him.”
“I do.” Flame leaned forward. “Do you know where he lives?”
“As a matter of fact…” Marmor hid a smile. “I do.”
***
“Where did they stop to refuel?” Dana called up a map on her computer, not sure if she had heard Bivens correctly.
“Paris.” The computer expert shrugged. “No idea why they chose that routing but I know they’re on the ground at Orly Airport right now and I also know that they haven’t yet filed a flight plan for the next leg of the trip.”
“That’s odd.” Dana frowned. “I wonder what they’re doing there?”
“Having dinner?” Bivens smiled. “Some really good restaurants there!”
“Have you ever seen Flame or Aesop pay the slightest bit of attention to what they eat?” Dana shook her head. “They’d as soon have a hamburger as Hachis Parmentier.” She looked at Bivens. “They’re up to something. I hope they don’t get into trouble…”
***
Flame opened the big double windows of the apartment he had rented in the Le Marais section of Paris. He had a wonderful view of Notre Dame—which he ignored completely in favor of his view of an apartment at the far end of the block his building occupied.
The apartment occupied by one Ahmed Hadad.
I wish we had time to do a full intel workup on this guy, he told himself as he studied the rather garishly-furnished room beyond the large windows of his target’s home. It’d be nice to know what he does with his evenings.
Marmor had supplied quite a lot of information about Hadad but had lacked the sort of day-to-day details that would have made the job easier.
Ah well, Flame thought. I’ll just keep an eye on his place and see what happens. He glanced at the locked door of the apartment. I doubt anyone will bother me here and the Metro station is only a few yards away…
Aesop had offered to spot for him but the big man’s knee still wasn’t up to a quick gun-and-run. Instead, he’d been tasked to make sure the plane was ready to leave at a moment’s notice—it wouldn’t do to stay on the ground any longer than necessary after the job was done.
Flame waited. The French team had a World Cup match in progress. He suspected that his target would return sometime after that game ended…
***
Ahmed Hadad smiled as he collected his winnings. The British always find a way to lose, he told himself. It is good to take advantage of that.
It had been a good day. His banker had informed him that the tech stocks he had purchased were doing quite well. His mistress had taken the afternoon off so they could watch the World Cup together—when they weren’t doing other things—and now he had taken nearly a hundred euros from British tourists who just couldn’t believe that their team was as inept as it proved to be.
People are fools, he told himself. Sheep waiting to be shorn. He smiled. And I am happy to collect the wool!
He turned up the lane into Le Marais. It was too nice an evening to take the Metro so he took the opportunity to stroll along the boulevards away from the tourists. Such strolls kept him in good health and fit enough to give his mistress the workouts she deserved.
Yes, he thought as he entered his apartment. It is good to be Ahmed Hadad.
He opened the big window that faced Notre Dame, half-turning at a flash to his right.
He never completed the turn.
***
That one’s for you, Saba, Flame thought as he packed the Barrett into its case and slung it over his shoulder. For all your help. He exited the apartment building and headed for the Metro station, ignoring the people streaming past him…
EPILOGUE
“You guys did a really good job on this one,” Dana told Flame as he exited the Hawker 600. “Our friends at Sinope are already talking about other assignments and the admiral is pleased that you got the negotiators out without any US involvement.” She smiled. “Nobody could have done more.”
“Thanks.” He had grinned. “I appreciate that.”
“Come on.” She gestured toward her car. “I’ll give you a lift home.”
He nodded and waved at Aesop who was travelling with Marmor—apparently they needed to settle a bet in the Library of Congress.
The trip was uneventful, the roads clear, the city still sound asleep. The sun was just beginning to light the horizon when Dana pulled up in front of Flame’s apartment building.
“Think you’ll be able to sleep?” She asked him.
“I don’t know.” His face darkened. “I hope so.”
“I dropped a little sleep aid in your apartment,” she told him. “Let me know if it helps.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “Thanks.”
She watched as he unlocked the door and waved, then put the car into gear and headed for her own place hoping that everything would work out.
***
Flame waved at Dana then entered his apartment. He dropped his pack onto the couch and headed for the bedroom. He felt like he could sleep for a week.
“Flame?”
He stopped cold, eyes locked on the figure in front of him.
“Come on to bed, Flame.” Kimberly smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
-end-
ABOUT DOUG MURRAY
Doug Murray has been:
A soldier in the Viet Nam War;
A Bank Vice President;
A teacher of history and English;
And, throughout all these other things, a writer of, as his friend Peter David says, stuff. He is the creator/writer of THE'NAM, the critically acclaimed comic book series about that unpopular war. He has also written hundreds of other graphic stories about characters as dis-similar as The Punisher and Roger Rabbit, and Conan and Uncle Scrooge.
He has also written hundreds of film reviews and articles about films and filming as well as several novels and short stories (including a children's story which is still utilized as part of the reading curriculum in several states).
"It's been a pleasure to work on this SEAL TEAM SIX spinoff/sequel. Too often men separated from the military end up ignored and underutilized by a government that really doesn't understand them. It's good to show that such men can be a positive part of the fight against those who would harm Americans."
Chuck Dixon, SEAL Team Six Extra-Sized Holiday Bundle
