The Keepers of the Persian Gate (8 page)

“Americans?” she said in English.

“Well, American and British,” said Paddy.

“This way, this way,” she said. The nun quickly ran to the front doors, slamming them shut and securing several bolts. She then escorted Paddy and Jake to a back room of the church where there was a small quarters and living area. “They are looking for you. But you will be safe here,” she said.

“Thank you. We need to get a message out to our command. Do you know anywhere from which we can send an e-mail?”

“We have a computer here with internet,” explained the nun.

Paddy smiled at Jake. In their briefings prior to disembarkation from the Nimitz, each of the team had been provided with a miniature modem which could connect to any PC with an internet connection. The modem uploaded its software into any computer to which it was inserted. The software would then operate to secure the computer and any communications emanating from it. Text, location and recipient details would all be scrambled so that any message that was sent could not be intercepted. The team were also each provided with a unique plastic card with a sealed tear-off label. Hidden under the label was a specific e-mail address assigned to each member of the team.

Paddy inserted the modem into the computer. Within seconds, the modem began to upload and install the secure messaging system. Paddy tore off the label and read the e-mail address: [email protected]. He typed in the address. The e-mail subject was ‘Boca de Rio’. He typed the main body of the e-mail: “Paddy and Jake, taken sanctuary in…”

“What’s the name of this church?” asked Paddy.

“Basílica de la Virgen del Valle.”

Paddy typed it in, and further explained in the e-mail, “We are safe for now. Separated from Naval Special Warfare Development Group, who covered our westward retreat. Unsure of their status. Moved south as north coast would be unfriendly come morning. Suggest southerly extraction. Await instructions.” Paddy hit send.

“What now?”

“I guess we wait,” said Jake.

“Yeah… I guess so. Sister, where is the priest? Will he have a problem with us being here?” enquired Paddy.

“He will be arriving shortly. It is market day in town so he usually goes down to that first. Don’t worry I will speak to him upon his arrival. He is a Spanish national so there shouldn’t be a problem,” said the nun.

“Where are you from?” asked Jake.

“I am Venezuelan. My name is Sister Sarcos. You needn‘t worry about me,” said the Sister.

“Sorry, it’s just that you have excellent English skills,” replied Paddy.

“I worked as a teacher in the USA for some years before coming back to Venezuela and finding God. You must be tired. Can I get you something to eat or drink?” offered Sister Sarcos.

“If you have coffee that would be lovely,” said Paddy.

“Please,” said Jake.

With that, Sister Sarcos left the room and disappeared to a kitchen around the corner. Jake didn’t seem to have too much trust in the locals. “I don’t buy that about her being a teacher.”

“Ah, would you come off it? She’s helped us this far,” said Paddy.

Suddenly, a message appeared on the computer screen. “Oh, new mail,” said Paddy. He opened the message.

“Message received, assets on the ground moving to your position. They will provide further instruction.”

Sister Sarcos came back in the room with some coffee on a tray, next to some Venezuelan butter biscuits. “Have both of you been up all night?” she asked.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, ma’am,” said Jake.

“Well, if you would like somewhere to get some sleep, there is a couch in the other room,” replied Sister Sarcos.

“You go on in, Paddy. I’ll wait here and talk to the Sister,” said Jake.

Paddy went in and made himself comfortable. After a few minutes he could feel himself dozing off.

Back in the study, Jake sat and stared out the window to the view of the street. Various police cars passed through the town, including an army rover with several heavily armed soldiers inside.

“It’s a small island; they’ll be doing the rounds until they find you,” noted Sister Sarcos.

“I thought you said they wouldn’t find us,” said Jake.

Sister Sarcos paused and stared at Jake. “I can’t make you trust me. But I suggest that right now, you do,” said Sister Sarcos.

Before he could reply, Jake’s attention was drawn to a noise coming from the front doors of the church. He lifted his M14 and quickly proceeded into the main hall. It was clear that someone was trying to open the doors. There were several loud bangs and shouting coming from the other side of the door.

“It’s ok. It’s just Father Hernandez,” said Sister Sarcos. She rushed to the doors and opened the viewing hatch just to be sure. When she opened the door, in walked an old priest. He was small, tanned and completely bald.

Jake retreated to the corridor and peered around the corner as Sister Sarcos and Father Hernandez spoke in Spanish. She was clearly trying to explain what had happened. However, it seemed as though they were getting into a bit of an argument. “This isn’t good,” Jake thought to himself. Suddenly, the priest stormed in the direction of the study where Jake was. As he walked around the corner, he bumped into Jake, who towered over him.

“Hello, Father,” said Jake.

The priest just stared back at him. Then, “Hola,” the priest said, smiling nervously. There was a smell of booze off him.

“Has this man been drinking?” asked Jake.

“One of Father Hernandez’s vices, I am afraid,” said Sister Sarcos.

“It’s 7.30 in the morning, ma’am,” replied Jake.

Sister Sarcos led Father Hernandez to another room while Jake kept watch. The whole night had just been one nervous incident after another. Jake was looking forward to getting the hell off the island. As he sat looking out the window he began to rest his head against the wall. Not long after, he could feel himself drifting off to sleep.

Another loud bang on the door awoke Jake.

“Jesus, did I fall asleep?” Jake said aloud. He looked out the window to see a jeep parked outside. Moreover, he could hear sounds again from the front of the church. It sounded as though Sister Sarcos was once more answering the door.

“Yes. Can I help you?” asked Sister Sarcos.

“We’re here to see our friends, Sister,” said one of the men. She opened the door and in walked two Venezuelan gentlemen. Paddy had arisen by this stage and walked out into the main hall of the church.

“Paddy? Jake… I presume,” said one of the guys.

“That’s correct,” said Paddy.

“I am agent Jorge Gonzalez and this is agent Santiago Angel. We’ve been sent by Langley in response to your message,” said Jorge.

“Boy, are we glad to see you guys,” said Jake.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” said Santiago.

The Sister directed the group into the back office where Santiago and Jorge briefed Paddy and Jake on how they intended to get them off the island.

“What about the Naval Special Warfare Development Group?” asked Jake.

“They are safe, as a matter of fact,” replied Santiago.

“How the hell did they manage that?” asked Paddy.

“Apparently, after they retreated to Arenitas and found no sign of you guys, they proceeded northeast. They made their way through enemy lines undetected to Juan Griego. This morning they commandeered a fishing trawler,” explained Agent Gonzalez.

“I’m surprised they weren’t pursued,” said Paddy.

“They were. However, when the Venezuelan patrol boarded them, they attacked the patrol boat and commandeered it. They then took that boat the rest of the way to international waters,” said Jorge.

“Those guys are incredible,” said Jake.

“So, Agent Gonzalez, Agent Angel. What’s the plan for us?” asked Paddy.

“Well, as you will appreciate, the island is on high alert since last night’s debacle. Chavez has sent in reserves to help with the search. He’s desperate for proof that this was an American-led operation. However, so far he’s got nothing. Our plan is to keep it that way.”

Unfortunately, an air extraction was completely off the cards. The Venezuelan air force was patrolling the skies and they were being assisted by patrols on the ground. Moreover, a sea extraction was completely impossible from the north. The only option was a sea extraction from the south.

“Mr. Trimble, this may not be like anything you’ve been used to,” warned Jorge.

“Jake, we know you are SEAL and you’ll be trained for what we are about to suggest next. Paddy, how are you with swimming?” asked Santiago. Given the situation and the level of surveillance, it was decided that an extraction by boat was impossible. Paddy wasn’t an excellent swimmer, but he wasn’t bad either. He used to teach dinghy sailing on the shores of Belfast Lough when he was growing up.

“Our proposal is that tonight you will swim from Boca de Rio to a precise set of coordinates one and a half miles off the coast. Once you reach those coordinates, you are to face south and tie a line between the pair of you, separating to a distance of roughly one hundred feet from each other. I’m afraid I can’t go into any further detail,” explained Agent Gonzalez.

Paddy and Jake were each supplied with a small US Navy Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon. They were much smaller than your standard EPIRB, only about the size of a set of keys.

“You will attach these round your wrists, like so. These will be traceable by the tracking equipment on your extraction vehicle,” explained Jorge.

“What time do we head off?” asked Paddy.

“We expect you to be ready to leave here around 2030 hours, local time. You will be collected by your extraction vehicle at 2115. That should give you forty-five minutes to swim to the coordinates and position yourselves accordingly. The tide is on your side and you will have a current of about one and a half knots moving you in the general direction.”

The pair were also each supplied with custom wetsuits with built in buoyancy to help them stay afloat.

“The water temperature at this time of year shouldn’t be an issue,” explained Santiago.

After that, Agent Angel and Gonzalez kept watch while Paddy and Jake went off to the other room to get some rest prior to the swim. They had plenty of time to kill. Paddy took the floor, allowing Jake to take the couch.

“How’s your ankle?” asked Paddy.

“Fine now, actually,” replied Jake.

“Really, you sort of looked like you were limping as we came into the room there,” said Paddy sceptically.

“Well, in water it won’t matter much,” said Jake.

***

Several hours later, they awoke to Jorge and Santiago coming into the room and turning on the lights.

“Wakey wakey!” shouted Agent Angel.

“You missed all the action,” said Agent Gonzalez.

“What action?” asked Paddy.

“The Venezuelan army knocked on the front door looking for you guys,” replied Agent Gonzalez.

“But don’t worry, Father Hernandez sorted it out and sent them home with their bags packed,” said Agent Angel.

“And you didn’t wake us!” said Jake.

“Ha, ha, we’re just messing with you,” said Agent Gonzalez.

“Oh ha, ha, very funny indeed,” replied Paddy.

Jorge and Santiago threw two bags on the ground. “Right guys, we have your wetsuits and gear. You’re also each getting a set of flippers and a small cylinder with five minutes of oxygen in case you need to go under the surface for whatever reason,” said Jorge.

Paddy and Jake had a look in the bags to survey their new equipment. They each contained a variety of further inventory, including a torpedo rescue buoy.

“Additionally, you’re each getting a waterproof GPS to help position yourselves appropriately. I’ve taken the liberty of inserting the waypoint. However, if there’s any doubt, it’s latitude 10.92 longitude -64.181,” said Agent Gonzalez.

“What time is it?” asked Paddy.

“2000 hours. So you have thirty minutes to get changed and then get down the coast. We’ll put you in the back of the jeep and drive to the nearest beach. When we are all happy that there’s no one watching, you will go into the sea and that’ll be the last we see of each other. Understood?” explained Agent Angel.

“Affirmative,” said Jake.

Paddy and Jake suited up. Sister Sarcos and the priest were waiting at the door when the group left the church. The nun smiled and shook Paddy and Jake’s hands and they both thanked her for helping them. As Jake was walking out the door, he stopped in his tracks.

“Here ma’am - just a small token of our appreciation. From the US government,” said Jake. He handed her an envelope containing all of the remaining cash which he was supplied for the mission, about $20,000. Meanwhile, the priest stopped Paddy as he was about to walk out the door, resting his hands upon either side of Paddy’s face.

“Dios tiene un propósito especial para usted,” said Father Hernandez.

“What did he say?” asked Paddy, turning to Sister Sarcos.

“He said God has a special purpose for you. I agree,” replied Sister Sarcos.

Paddy nodded and thanked the priest. Meanwhile, Agents Angel and Gonzalez were on the steps watching the car. Seeing that the coast was clear, Paddy and Jake ran to the jeep and jumped into the back. The agents casually followed them out and got into the front two seats.

“Right, guys, this is it. The situation looks good. The town is quiet so let’s just hope we don’t bump into any unfriendlies on our way to the beach,” said Agent Gonzalez.

“Just don’t do anything to draw attention to us!” said Agent Angel.

“Surf’s up, brothers! Hey Paddy, which way to muscle beach?” joked Jake, flexing his pecs through his wetsuit.

“Cut it out, jackass,” said Agent Gonzalez.

It wasn’t long before they were out of the town. The beach was less than a mile southwest of Boca de Rio. Paddy and Jake caught glimpses of the sky as the jeep moved along the bumpy road. As was the case the previous night, the sky was crystal clear with a full moon illuminating everything around them. After a few turns, Paddy had the unmistakable sensation of being off-road.

“Ok. We’re here,” said Agent Gonzalez. The car slowly came to a stop and Agent Angel switched off the lights.