Easy Day for the Dead (12 page)

The four SEALs sat down. Alex summarized the bald lieutenant colonel's brief, losing Danny during the HAHO, rendezvousing with Leila, taking out the lab, the deadly hike through the desert, stealing an Iranian police SUV, and escaping from Iran.

“The loss of Danny was tragic,” the skipper said. “We have a team out searching for his remains. You did the right thing by proceeding
with the mission. Congratulations on blowing up the lab. The Iranian government is furious. They claim that someone bombed a pharmaceutical plant, but the world's media outlets are reporting that Iran's secret nuclear weapon facility blew up. Because of all the radioactivity, the Iranian government is having a hard time going in to analyze exactly what happened. Abadi Abad is the closest village to the explosion, and they haven't seen any significant increase in radioactivity, but they suspect a secret nuclear facility blew up. Well done, gentlemen. There's only one piece you left unfinished.”

Alex, Pancho, and John looked at each other.

“What didn't we finish, sir?” Alex asked.

“One of the scientists, Dr. Sheema Khamenei, had appendicitis and was medevac'd out of there by helo. That was probably the helo you observed as you neared the biological weapons lab to plant your nuke. NSA intercepted email communication saying Dr. Khamenei is in a hospital in Tehran. She is one of the senior scientists there. Trained in Russia. With her alive, their bioweapons program remains alive. I need you to go in and finish the job by killing Dr. Khamenei.”

“Yes, sir,” the SEALs replied.

“We've given Leila an Army uniform to help her blend in while she's on base. We asked her to help us out on this one, too. Go ahead and clean your kit, eat some chow, then meet me back here in two hours for the brief.”

“Yes, sir,” they said.

The skipper left.

The three SEALs went to the armory and cleaned their weapons. Alex made sure his AKMS was unloaded and on safe before removing its bolt carrier group. Sand grains spilled out onto the wooden table in front of him.

As Pancho cleaned his AKMS, he turned to Alex and said, “I heard the BUD/S XO asked you to become an instructor there.” Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) Training was what
began the transformation from sailor to SEAL. The executive officer (XO) was second in command, under the CO.

“Where do you hear all this stuff?” Alex asked.

“People talk,” Pancho said.

“When do people have so much time to talk?”

“Is it true?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to do it?”

Alex thought for a moment.

“You have to think about it,” Pancho said.

“We have to eliminate Dr. Khamenei.” It was officially a capture-or-kill mission, but Alex rarely captured anyone, and his superiors already knew that.

“We're brothers, man. You can't break up the family.”

John stopped cleaning his rifle. “Alex is a big boy. He can do what he wants.”

Alex didn't know whether to thank John for defending him or complain that John was trying to get rid of him.

They finished cleaning their gear, then went to the chow hall. Alex almost didn't recognize Leila wearing an Army uniform and sitting by herself eating dinner. The trio joined her.

After the four finished dinner, Leila went to take a rest in the VIP lounge while the SEALs returned to the soundproofed room where the skipper briefed them for their next mission: “You'll assume new identities and take separate military flights from here to Germany, Azerbaijan, and France.” Alex spoke German fluently, and he often used the cover of German businessman, so he guessed he'd be going to Germany. John spoke fluent French, so France seemed the natural choice for him. Pancho spoke Spanish, but the Spanish airlines didn't fly to all the countries that German and French airlines did—besides, it would be easiest to send the bulk of their gear via military aircraft.

The skipper continued: “Alex, after taking a military flight from
here to Frankfurt, you'll go undercover as a German businessman with your assistant Leila and fly via Lufthansa to Azerbaijan. Pancho will take most of your mission gear and hop on a military flight from here to Azerbaijan. John, you'll fly from here to Paris, then, posing as a French-Canadian minister, fly from Paris on Air France to Azerbaijan. In Azerbaijan, the four of you will link up with the Azerbaijan Navy's Tiger unit, made up of its top members from the 641st Special Warfare Unit. The Tigers will take you via fastboat across the Caspian Sea and insert you just north of the Iranian coast, where you'll swim to the beach. From there you'll rendezvous with our agent, who will escort you to a safe house in Tehran and update you on Dr. Khamenei's current location. Then you will capture or kill Dr. Khamenei. Finally, the Tigers will extract you by sea.”

“I'm assuming there's a good reason for us using a similar insert-and-extract method, sir,” Alex said.

“Yes,” the skipper said. “Right now the Iranian government isn't too popular at home or abroad, so they're executing people just for sneezing—as frogmen, the water is your best chance for getting in and out. Intelligence has found a number of weaknesses along the Iranian coast, and you're going to take advantage of those weaknesses.”

After the briefing, Alex cleaned up and helped Leila prepare for her role. Early Saturday morning, they wore dark blue Armani suits and carried dark brown leather satchels. Disguised as a German businessman and his assistant, they boarded a military flight to Frankfurt.

While sitting in the airport lounge, Alex's eyes followed Leila's long black hair from the top of her head to below her shoulders. His eyes followed down her skirt, tracing her dark blue curves. His eyes continued past her hemline. She had firm thighs, and her calf muscles were athletic, yet feminine. She reminded him of Cat. Alex needed someone to trust—someone he could ask whether he should stay in the Outcasts and Team Six or take the XO's offer to become
a BUD/S instructor. Cat was someone he could trust and ask about such things, but work in the Teams had divided their paths, and she wasn't here. Through the years before he met Cat, there'd been other women, but again, they gave up trying to compete with the Teams. Even if Alex got to know Leila, she would give up, too. Alex didn't blame them. He was the one who chose the Teams over them.

Being a BUD/S instructor would demand a lot of time, but it wouldn't demand as much time as operating in the SEAL Teams. In the Teams, for months he trained individually at Professional Development/Schools (PRODEV) before returning to his troop for months of Unit Level Training (ULT). Then Alex and his Teammates would fly to one of the hot spots around the globe and fight bad guys for six months or more. After that, he'd return to the States and begin the cycle again with PRODEV. In contrast, as a BUD/S instructor, Alex would be able to return home almost every night. If he met a woman he liked, he would have time to share with her. Alex had enjoyed his work with Team Six and the Outcasts, but now he wanted something more.

Leila saw Alex looking at her, and she smiled.

He remembered the smile of the woman in red in the supermarket and how she blew through him like an Indian summer.

If Alex asked Leila, she would probably tell him to take the BUD/S instructor position. Cat would tell him the same. So would his sister Sarah. In that moment sitting in the Frankfurt airport, Alex decided:
After killing Dr. Khamenei in Tehran, I'll go to Coronado to become a BUD/S instructor
.

Soon Alex and Leila boarded their Lufthansa flight and flew to Azerbaijan. Azerbaijan was strategically located, with Iran to the south, the Caspian Sea to the east, Russia to the north, Georgia to the northwest, and Armenia to the west. Although predominantly Muslim, Azerbaijan led other Muslim countries in its openness to other cultures. In 1920 the Soviet Union invaded Azerbaijan, and in 1991 Azerbaijan took back its independence. Its people spoke
Azerbaijani, similar to Turkish, and held a close relationship with Turkey. Azerbaijan also held a strong relationship with the United States and had supported America and its allies fighting in Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Iraq. In addition, they worked closely with the U.S. Navy on security issues related to the Caspian Sea.

Early in the afternoon, an Azerbaijani wearing a civilian gray wool beret met Alex and Leila at the airport. “Welcome to Azerbaijan.”

“Good to be here,” Alex said. Their exchange seemed natural, making it ideal as a coded exchange to verify identities.

“The car is waiting.”

“Great.”

The man in the gray beret drove Alex and Leila in a civilian sedan twenty kilometers southwest toward Baku, where the Azerbaijan Navy base was located, but instead of stopping at the base, the driver continued south.

“I thought we were stopping at the naval base,” Alex said.

“No, this way better,” the driver said in broken English.

“Where are we going?”

“Neftcala.”

“Do the others know this is where we're going?”

“Your SEAL friends go same place. No one else need know.”

The change in plans made Alex uneasy, but the skipper was no dope, so Alex trusted that the skipper had put him in the proper hands. He tried not to worry about it.

They traveled south more than 150 kilometers before arriving at the port of Neftcala. The driver pulled into a parking lot on the pier and stopped. The other vehicles in the parking lot were civilian—no sign of military anywhere. Alex stopped trying to be calm—now he was nervous. He looked around for weapons of opportunity and paths of escape.

The driver escorted Alex and Leila into a warehouse. Secluded, it would be a good place to torture them or kill them. Being on the
wharf, it would be easy to hose off blood and other body fluids, removing any evidence of what had happened.

Inside the warehouse, Pancho and John sat on a couple of crates next to their duffel bags. John read something, probably reviewing his cheat sheet about the mission or rereading his Bible. Next to Pancho were bags of the SEALs' gear. Pancho laughed it up with one of the Tigers. The Tigers were dressed in civilian clothes, and on the deck around them rested stuffed civilian duffel bags and backpacks.

The inside of the warehouse wasn't really a warehouse; it was a covered slip with a fastboat sitting in the water. Day or night, the fastboat could be docked ready to go, yet remain undetectable by satellite or prying eyes.

Alex breathed more easily. When the Tigers noticed Alex, they stood up. Alex appreciated the respect, but he felt embarrassed by it. Normally such a courtesy was only for a commanding officer in a formal setting—Alex was far down the totem pole from commanding officer, and this was a real-world operation, not a formal dog-and-pony show. “Please, relax,” Alex said.

The Tiger who appeared to be the leader approached Alex and said, “We ready when you ready. I am Lieutenant Zadeh.” Lieutenant Zadeh had long, black curly hair and a handsome face, like a rock star. His men looked more like pirates.

“You can call me Alex.”

“I know.”

“Let's do this,” Alex said.

A
t night, the SEALs, Leila, and the Tigers changed into dry suits. With the Caspian Sea's temperature in the fifties on the Fahrenheit scale, and considering the possibility that Alex's team might have to spend much time in the water, the dry suits would keep them warmer than wet suits. Alex showed Leila how she would need to hold on to her mask with one hand while somersaulting out of the back of the fastboat while it was still moving.

The SEALs traveled light, carrying small waterproof backpacks and their customized Iranian Zoaf 9mm pistols. Leila carried no weapon. “Does she need a weapon?” Lieutenant Zadeh offered his firearm.

“Never used one before,” she said, “and I don't know how.”

“She'll be fine,” Alex said.

Each Tiger carried an Israeli TAR-21, a bullpup assault rifle that fires 5.56mm NATO rounds. The bullpup design imbedded the weapon's action in the buttstock, conserving space. Although the TAR-21 was small like a carbine, it fired with the velocity of a rifle.

SEALs and Tigers loaded into the boat. The Tigers cast off the fastboat's lines and the coxswain started the engine. The coxswain eased the throttle forward a bit and the fastboat floated out from
underneath the covered slip. Then the coxswain pressed the throttle forward. The boat responded by leaping forward, spitting a rooster tail of water behind it. Light dotted the land, water, and sky. Alex and the others lay on the floor of the boat, keeping a low profile. Not only did the fastboat's bulkheads hide them from sight, but they also protected Alex's crew from the cold wind that tried to bite their faces. They sped south.

After four hours of being knocked around on the deck of the fastboat, Pancho peered over the bulkhead to see where they were. They must have approached within three kilometers of the Iranian shore, because Pancho looked at Alex and the others. Alex nodded. Pancho somersaulted off the back, plunging through the rooster tail into the Caspian Sea. Alex motioned for Leila to jump; she executed a perfect somersault. Alex was next. John would be right behind him. Alex tumbled through the speedboat's wake and held his face mask to keep the water from ripping it off his face. He didn't know which way was up until the water settled and he floated to the surface. Alex recognized the outline of the Iranian shore from the photos in the skipper's brief. Between the shore and Alex, an Iranian patrol boat headed straight for him. The bow might crack his head open before the propellers chewed him up. Alex dove underwater. The buoyancy of the dry suit made it more difficult to dive, and Alex didn't want to kick his feet and splash a signal to the Iranians. He furiously breast-stroked with his arms until his fins submerged—then he kicked as hard and as fast as he could. The Iranian patrol boat passed, and he tasted its motor oil.