Echo Six: Black Ops 6 - Battle for Beirut (31 page)

A few men gave a faint cheer as the Sea Hawk raced away from the scene of devastation, but it was half-hearted. There were too many memories of those who hadn't made it. Werner Best, his arm outstretched, came through from the cockpit and greeted Talley. They shook hands.

"A close thing, my friend. You were lucky to get out of there. A second Shilka was a nasty surprise."

"It wasn't luck, Werner. Without you, we'd have all been dead. How did Brooks manage it?"

He shrugged. "He was worried, enough to put his job on the line for you. He continued to insist that your operation to bring out the final hostage was a legitimate part of the operation to bring out Andreas Jensen. God knows how. Eventually, they believed him, and the search and rescue guys got the go-ahead. But that wasn't all, Admiral Brooks maintained we had to have an escort, so they sent the Super Cobra. The crew was more than happy to get some real world experience."

"Thank God they did. And thanks again for what you did, that was nice shooting. You didn't have to come."

"I think I did. I made a mistake back at Masnaa. I thought about it a lot afterward. I should've waited, so I needed to make amends. Anyway, you got out. That's what matters."

Most of us got out. Not all.

He was about to reply when Rana shouted from the rear of the cabin.

"Commander Talley! You must come quickly."

With a sinking feeling in his guts, he crossed the cabin to where she was sitting on the floor, holding Nava in her arms.

"Is she wounded?"

The girl looked up at him. "Yes."

He knelt down. "Show me."

She moved Nava's still form so he could see her back. It was covered in blood, and her eyes were closed.

"I'm sorry, Commander. It was that last burst from the flak gun. A chunk of metal hit her in the back, and it's still wedged inside her."

Immediately, he swung around. "Medic!"

The corpsman had been attending to another casualty, but he ran to the rear. There was blood smeared all over the girl, and some had leaked to the floor of the aircraft. He leaned down, examined the wound, and then checked her vital signs. He stared at Talley.

"I'm sorry."

"What you mean? She can't die! You have to do something!"

"What do you mean, die? She isn't going to die. I just meant because she was hurt and I hadn't noticed. Her heart rate is good, and her vital signs are fine. The fragment missed the organs and main arteries, so she was lucky. It's lodged in the subcutaneous layer of her skin, not too deep. I'll fix her up with some shots, and she'll need a small operation to remove the debris when we reach the Nimitz. But she'll survive, no question."

He took two hypodermics from his bag and injected the separate drugs close to the wound site.

"That'll keep her comfortable until we get back, and stop any infection."

He left to return to his other patient. Talley was still numb. He'd lived the past days for this moment when he was finally united with Nava. For one bad moment he thought he'd lost her. The words of the medic were like a symphony. 'She isn't going to die.'

Thank God!

He held her in his arms, and her blood soaked through his uniform. She was unconscious, and he continued to hold her as they approached the Nimitz. Rana touched him on the shoulder.

"Al Saif did bad things to her. She'll need a lot of healing. Not just her body," she added significantly, "Her mind, that will be the worst."

"But why? Why do that to a woman, an innocent girl?"

She shrugged. "Because he is a Saudi Arab, perhaps. Their laws allow sadists to treat women any way they like. Maybe that is the answer."

His thoughts went back to Buchmann's girl. “Sumaiyah, why did she do it?"

Rana grimaced. “I wish I’d known she was with you. I could have warned you. She has hated him for many, many years. She had some kind of a warped compulsion to both honor him and destroy him. She talked about it often. That’s why she led you to him, I guess, she wanted him dead. But she killed herself in a token effort to protect him, to give him a few extra seconds of life. It's strange, but who could know how her mind was twisted after what she'd suffered? You know about Sumaiyah?”

“No.”

“Sumaiyah was the first of the Muslim martyrs, shortly after Mohammed’s death. Her family were devoted followers of Islam, and it is generally considered she gave her life for her faith. Al Saif’s daughter was named Husniyah when she was born, but after she fell for an Arab boy, her father went crazy and scarred her.”

“He did that to her face?”

“Yes, he cut her badly, to rob her of her beauty. He also changed her name to Sumaiyah and dedicated her life to Islam. Her death also, as a Shaheed, a religious suicide. Since that day, her death has been preordained. Her life could only have one ending.”

“Scum. The Arabs, I mean. The Saudis."

Rana grimaced. “And then some, but it's not just all of them, and not just the Saudis. I worked for other Arab employers before al Saif, and some were pretty bad, others were fine. But he was the pits, even in Islamic terms. I’m glad he’s dead.”

He looked across at Buchmann, and their eyes locked. The big man was consumed by grief. He eased across to join Talley.

"I just don't know why she did it."

"No. It was a long, hard road, Heinrich, but at the end, it just wasn't to be."

"Death," he muttered, in ominous tones.

"Death?"

"The kind of people who would do that to a girl, it's all they deserve. They've made a new enemy. I've had enough of being nice to these people."

Talley almost smiled. "I don't blame you for hating them more."

He nodded. "No. I've gone easy on them so far." Talley kept a straight face as Buchmann continued, "Next time, it's different."

Rovere joined them. "And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him."

"Lieutenant Rovere, that isn't Shakespeare," Buchmann objected, "Even I know my bible. Revelations, 6.8."

"That's true. It seemed apposite."

He touched the German's arm in a sympathetic gesture.

"How will you know which of them is that bad?"

"I'll know," he murmured grimly.

* * *

They landed on the flat top, and Buchmann helped him lift Nava's unconscious body from the cabin and lay her gently on a gurney. Other men offered to help, but they refused, all except for Jesse Whitefeather. He'd spoken to Talley just before they landed.

"When we get to the sick bay, I'd like to work with the medics. She'll need a lot of healing, and it's not all going to come out of a medicine bottle."

"Go ahead. Anything you can do is appreciated. I'm grateful."

They carried her through the ship to the sick bay and stood for a few moments, oblivious to the bustle and chaos as the medics took over and transferred her to a cot. She seemed to disappear beneath a forest of tubes and cables. He found the physician, a Navy Commander, one rank above his.

"Sir, this is Sergeant Jesse Whitefeather. He's one of our medics. I want him to stay with her and help her along."

The man grimaced. "It’s not necessary. We have everything we need in here. We're..."

"Sir, as long as she's here, he stays. It's not an option. If you want me to clear it with Admiral Brooks at NATO, I can do that, but..."

"Okay, okay," the man said quickly, "If you think it's that important, I'll allow it. But I want you and the big guy out of here. We need space to work."

He shooed them toward the door, and they left.

It was the following
 
day before they let him see her. He was on deck with his men, and all around them was the organized chaos of one of the largest warships in the world. They watched for a few minutes, and he tried to console Buchmann, but he was having none of it. He didn't want consolation. He wanted blood.

They were interrupted by a rating running up to Talley.

"Communications room, Commander. You're wanted. I'll show you the way."

He nodded. "Thanks, I'll be right there." He took a final look at Buchmann. "You okay, Heinrich?"

"Ja. I will be."

"Right."

He followed the sailor to the radio room where they handed him a telephone handset.

"Talley."

"This is Brooks. You got everything you need?"

"Yes. And Sir, thanks for the help. That Hellfire was the only thing between us and a very nasty death. And those helos at Tyre, that was a bad moment for us. I owe you."

"You're welcome. I figured it was only a matter of time before Hezbollah expanded their attacks on our people. It was high time to show them who are in the driving seat. That's the difference between us and the terrorists, Talley. Terrorists don't have any navy or air force. They spend so much time tearing their crappy little countries into ruin, they don't have the time or money to build anything worthwhile. They use young children as suicide bombers, while we use paid adult professionals who know what they're about. Werner Best did well."

"He did."

"I'm glad someone did. You screwed up and disobeyed orders, Talley. Going off like that. You should've returned to the Nimitz and checked in when you were told."

"It was a hot pursuit, Sir, I..."

 
"Don't give me that shit, Son! You think I don't know what went on? You should be court-martialed for what you did. Men were killed."

"I'm sorry, Sir. I take full responsibility for what went wrong."

"And so you should. They should hang you from the yardarm. However, it's too late for that. Besides, I need you. I had to back up your play. It was the only way to persuade them to send in the rescue helos. So you can keep your rank, for now. On the plus side, you've dealt the terrorist infrastructure a helluva blow and cut off a major source of weaponry. Malik al Saif would have to have been dealt with, sooner or later. Even so, there'd better not be a next time. I run this outfit, Talley, not you. And it's my head that'll roll when things go wrong. Clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Okay, time to draw a line under it. One good result is your outfit worked well with Alpha Six. It's an example of what can be achieved with a larger force
 
of men. On top of that, the United Nations is falling over backward to be nice to us, and right now anything we want we only have to ask. Anything."

There's something in his voice. He didn't mention the UN for no reason.

"Do we want anything from them, Admiral?"

A pause. "Maybe. By the way, I'm sorry about the girl. I gather she was hurt bad."

"Yes, Sir, she was, but they're working on her in the sick bay. Jesse's with her as well."

"Jesse Whitefeather?"

"Yep. He'll do for her what the surgeons can't. That Saudi treated her badly, very badly."

"A good thing he's dead." He stopped and seemed to be rehearsing his next words, "Talley, you know we're under threat from radical Islam, more so than ever."

It was an odd question. Like saying you know night follows day.

"So what's new?"

He waited for Brooks to reply.

I don't need this. I need a vacation, time to discover if the problem with my arm has gone for good, or not. And more than anything, time with Nava, to help her heal.

Before Brooks began, he decided it was time to open up.

"I have something to tell you, Sir. A problem I've had for a while now. It's..."

"The arm?"

"You know?"

Brooks chuckled. "Sure."

"My private medical records are supposed to be confidential, Sir."

"Not from NSA. We have a feed from NSA to NATO here in Brussels, so if anything that concerns our people pops up, we know about it. Doctors keep their records online these days."

Shit.

"I got the best people from both sides of the Atlantic to look into it. They analyzed the blood results and a whole battery of other stuff. It's some kind of trauma thing, and they said it would go away in due course. Happens to the best of us, Talley, especially when you're in a job where people keep shooting at you. It's likely to be the result of an old wound."

"That's good news, Sir."

"Yeah, as I was saying, this United Nations thing."

I'd almost forgotten about the UN. Here it comes.

Brooks cleared his throat, "It's a major operation. You've heard of al-Shabaab?"

"Who hasn't? I mean, after the Somali thing, and then Kenya, the shopping mall atrocity."

"Right. We know they're planning another set piece attack, a joint operation with their Al-Qaeda buddies. As soon as your unit is back up to scratch, the United Nations wants them hit hard, to put a stop to their squalid little attacks on refugee and aid agencies. They asked NATO to deal with it, and I intend to use Echo Six, together with Alpha Six, a joint operation. You'll get the details as soon as you're back in Brussels. That's all, Talley."