Chapter Thirty-one

 

 

Outside the Iran China Clay Company

Northeast of Marand, Iran

 

“Farahani, we have a deal.” Jack raised his rifle, aiming it toward the Iranian.

“Yes, and part of the deal is that you surrender. Put your rifle and your pistol down.”

Jack nodded. “Let her go. Let her come toward me.”

“I don’t think so.” Farahani pressed his pistol harder against Bhada’s head.

Jack looked at her pale face. The left side of her face was bruised. Tearstains were evident on her cheeks, although she was doing her best to appear tough. Her blue headdress was in slight disarray, pushed to one side because of Farahani’s gun. His left arm was wrapped tight around her neck.

Jack smiled at Bhada. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay,” he said in a warm tone.

Bhada offered a tiny sliver of a smile. “You came… You came for me.”

“I told you I was coming.”

“Enough!” Farahani shouted. “This isn’t a soap opera. Put down your rifle, or she’s dead.”

Jack locked eyes with the Iranian. “Fine,” he said with a nod. He began to lower his AK and put it next to his feet.

“Kick it away.”

Jack pushed it with the tip of his boot.

“Now the pistol.”

Jack removed it from the small of his back and tossed it next to the rifle.

Farahani took a step forward, pushing Bhada in front of him. He seemed to be breathing more easily.

Jack’s breathing grew faster. His palms were sweating. Adrenaline was rushing through his body. Alarm bells were clanging in his brain. He was surrounded and had just surrendered.

“The other pistol,” Farahani said.

“I have no other weapons,” Jack said and raised his arms to the sides.

“Turn around and lift your shirt up.”

Jack complied. He pirouetted slowly, expecting the Iranian to shoot him in the back.

He didn’t.

“Pull up your pants. Show me your ankles,” Farahani shouted.

Jack did as ordered.

“Good, very good, my friend Jack.” The mocking tone returned to Farahani’s cold voice. “Now, we can talk about our deal…”

Jack nodded. “Her life for mine. Let her go.”

Farahani gave Jack a sideways glance. “Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked in an angry tone.

“No, far from it.”

“You must think I’m stupid if you think the two of you are getting out of here alive.”

Jack gritted his teeth. “You promised to let her go. You promised it on your honor…”

Farahani showed his teeth as his face twisted into a lopsided grin. “I lied.”

Jack shook his head. His pupils flared. He took a few steps forward. He was now about two meters away from Farahani.

“Stop, stop right there.” Farahani moved the pistol to Bhada’s temple.

Jack stopped and kept his arms up and to the sides.

Farahani said, “You’re the fool for coming into my country and convincing her to betray her motherland. Your country and America must learn their lesson to stay away from our affairs.”

“Now what?” Jack’s eyes kept burning with rage. His mind was on overdrive trying to find a solution before Farahani’s jackals would handcuff them and throw them inside one of the SUVs.

“Now you’ll be surprised at—”

Bhada’s swift move cut off his words. She elbowed him in the chest, hard enough for Farahani to lose his grip on her. She dropped to the ground in another fast motion.

The Iranian was caught by surprise for a moment. He looked at Jack, then dropped his eyes to Bhada. He aimed his pistol at her head, and his finger went to the trigger.

Jack had already sprung toward him.

Before the Iranian could squeeze the trigger, Jack reached Farahani. Jack’s shoulder slammed hard into the Iranian’s chest. They both hit the ground.

Farahani fired the weapon.

The bullet zipped inches away from Jack’s face. Undaunted, he punched Farahani in the face, then tried to reach for the pistol.

The Iranian dealt a hard blow to Jack’s side with his left hand. The Canadian flinched and ignored the pain shooting through his body. His fingers dug deeper into Farahani’s hand, trying to pry away the pistol.

The Iranian kneed Jack in the chest and threw another punch. It took the air out of Jack’s lungs, but he remained unfazed. His fingers tightened around Farahani’s hand.

Gunfire rang from behind them.

The Canadian lowered his head just as Bhada kicked Farahani hard in the face. His head jerked back, and he lost his grip on the pistol. Jack grabbed it and shoved the gun under the Iranian’s throat. “Get up,” he shouted. “Hurry and don’t even think of making a false move!”

Farahani groaned and gave Jack a dazed look.

Jack swung behind him and lifted the Iranian up to his feet. “Stay behind me,” he shouted at Bhada. “And get in the chopper.”

A couple of rounds zipped past them. At least two gunmen were opening fire at Jack.

“Tell them to stop,” Jack shouted into Farahani’s ear. “Or I’ll blow your head off.” He pressed the gun hard against the Iranian’s right temple.

Farahani hesitated for a moment.

“Do it!” Jack shouted.

Farahani delayed for another moment, then cried out at the gunmen.

They ceased fire one after the other.

Jack had just turned toward the chopper when the pilot lunged at them.

Bhada had anticipated his move. She kicked him in the shin, tripping him. The pilot fell to the ground. She kicked him again on the side, then stomped at the back of his head.

“Enough,” Jack called at her. “Get him up, and get in the chopper. Now.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Farahani demanded in his arrogant tone.

“You’ll see.” Jack dragged him by the scruff of his neck, using him as cover.

Two of the gunmen were scurrying toward the helicopter. They had pointed their rifles at Jack and Bhada.

Bhada helped the pilot back to his feet. He gave them a harsh look, but Jack pointed the pistol at his face. “I know how to pilot,” he said. “I’ll kill you if you try something…”

The pilot nodded slowly, but the stern look remained on his face.

Jack returned the gun to Farahani’s temple. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Shut up!” Jack shouted.

He shuffled as fast as possible, trying to remain at all times behind Farahani. The gunmen were perhaps thirty meters away from the helicopter but hadn’t opened fire. He hoped they’d follow their boss’s order and hold fire. That’s why Jack was dragging the Iranian inside the helicopter. He needed assurance they wouldn’t shoot down the aircraft.

Farahani dragged his feet, but he had no choice. Jack’s pistol was jabbing him in the ribcage. The Canadian slid inside the cabin through the rear door, then pulled up the Iranian. He slumped heavily in the seat next to Jack as the pilot was readying the helicopter for takeoff. The loud rotors’ noise filled the cabin. Jack looked around and found a pair of earphones. He put them on and strapped himself into the seat. “Buckle up,” he told Farahani.

The Iranian waved a dismissive hand. “Why?”

Before Jack could reply, a volley of bullets struck the door.

“What are they doing?” Bhada shouted.

She turned in the co-pilot’s seat and gave Jack a terrified look. Her eyes had gone round, and her jaw had dropped.

A corner of Farahani’s mouth lifted in a grin. “You’re not getting out of here alive.”

“You know what that means?” Jack placed his pistol against Farahani’s forehead. “If we don’t make it alive, no one makes it alive.”

Farahani pressed his forehead harder against the pistol’s muzzle. “Fire, you coward.”

Jack shook his head. “No, too easy.”

He looked at the pilot as another volley pounded the door. “Get us out of here.”

The pilot nodded.

Jack couldn’t tell why the pilot was taking so long. Maybe he was trying to delay the inevitable. If he lingers much longer, we’ll be dead.

The high-pitched whine of the engine started, and the aircraft finally took off with a loud rumble. Jack kept his pistol wedged into Farahani’s right side. A single move, and the Iranian would be dead. He didn’t seem to want to provoke Jack. It appeared his determination had vanished as soon as the aircraft became airborne.

More bullets clobbered the helicopter’s underside and the cockpit. Jack bit his lips. If a bullet struck one of the rotors, the aircraft could go down.

The helicopter veered sharply to the right, then took a nosedive.

Bhada screamed in panic.

The pilot’s head twisted to the side. One or more of the bullets must have struck him.

Jack had only moments to react. He punched Farahani in the head, rendering him unconscious. Then he slid between the seats and took over the controls. He adjusted the cyclic to level the helicopter.

“Get him out of the seat,” he shouted at Bhada.

She struggled for balance in the unsteady cockpit and moved the body to the backseat while Jack used the co-pilot’s station.

The barrage from outside intensified as the helicopter’s nose began to pull up.

Jack thrust the cyclic forward.

The aircraft arrowed forward picking up speed with every second.

A few sporadic rounds struck the back of the helicopter.

Jack studied the instrument panel. Everything seemed in order. He looked over his shoulder and through the windows. No sign of smoke. He glanced at Bhada, whose face still registered a look of horror. “It’s okay,” he said in a warm voice. “We’re safe now.”

Bhada nodded slowly. “We’re still in Iran,” she said with worry in her low voice.

“True, but we have the colonel.” Jack cocked his head toward the backseat.

Farahani was slumped against the door.

“That didn’t stop them.”

“It should have, but you’re right, we won’t know until we’ve crossed the border.”

Bhada gave him a hopeful look. “Will I… will we really be free?”

Jack nodded. “Of course. Down there, they tried to stop us from leaving. Now that we’re airborne, they can’t force us down unless they kill us all.”

“Will they do that?”

Jack shook his head. “No,” he said in a confident voice. “We have an IRGC colonel here. They won’t dare. I’ll get on the radio, and we’ll tell them. You’ll help me convey the message loud and clear.”

Bhada offered a small uncertain nod.

Jack said, “You did great down there. The way you kicked Farahani. I couldn’t have done this without you. And the way you took down the pilot… Amazing.”

Bhada shrugged and offered a small smile. “No, Jack. I would still be there, expecting brutal torture before dangling at the end of a rope.” She shivered at the thought. “But you… you came and saved me.”

She reached and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Jack.”

He smiled. He looked over his shoulder at Farahani, who was still out cold. Then he looked through the cockpit’s windshield at the mountains coming up fast. Thirty minutes, he thought, thirty minutes to freedom.