THE ANGRY DOVES
By Dorian Scott Cole
Copyright 1980, 1987, by Dorian Scott Cole
This book is copyright material, not public domain, and all rights are reserved. This book may not be reproduced in any form, in any media. This book may not be sold or included in any collection. The reader may make a printed copy of this book for his personal use.
All characters in this book are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental
William surveyed his team. "This is going to be dangerous. We may get attacked by Ismail's men."
"I think we need Paul along for a lookout," Gerald stated.
"We need a lookout," William admitted, "but that would leave Kenza in the camp alone, and besides, Paul isn't trained in any kind of combat."
"I'll go if you need me," Paul volunteered.
"Bring Kenza, too. She'll be safer with us," Gerald said.
"I don't like it," William replied. "We may be too busy to defend them. Paul, you stay here with Kenza."
"William, we need a lookout." Gerald said firmly and gave Kenza a dirty look. "Frigging women," he muttered.
Kenza responded angrily. "I'm staying in the camp alone!" she said with a determined look on her face.
William thought it over. He clearly didn't want Kenza out there with Ismail's men going everywhere. It was just too dangerous. "Maybe it's best." He went to the truck and took out a .38. "Do you know how to use one of these?" he asked.
"Before we leave, I want you to walk a quarter mile away from the camp,
out of sight, find a comfortable palm tree, and wait for us."
Kenza put her arms around him. "Please be careful. For me, be careful. I love you." She kissed him and began walking away from the camp.
No sooner had William left, than a truck approached Kenza. She knew immediately that one of the terrorists had to have been watching the camp. She ran toward the camp, scared to death, but gave up trying to outrun the truck when she reached the base camp. She aimed the .38 at the man in the truck. He swerved. She re-aimed and fired, but he swerved again. The truck was almost on her. She jumped out of the way, dropping the gun.
The truck stopped over the gun and an Arab man got out. She scrambled under the truck, trying to reach the gun, but he grabbed her by the foot and pulled her out. She rolled over and saw a sword dangling from his waist.
Recognizing him from the pictures, she was terrified. She screamed and kicked him in the face with her free foot. He let go and she ran. Run like the wind, she thought to herself, it's my only chance to survive. She had thirty feet on the man, and when she glanced back she had forty. She searched desperately for any place to go, but there was none. Her only chance was to wear him out.
Glancing back again, she saw they were a half mile from the camp, and having sixty feet on him she slowed, knowing she couldn't keep up the pace. If she could get back to the truck, she thought, she could escape. It was enough to keep her going. Gauging her distance at a mile, she began a slow arc back toward the camp. He was gaining some.
The hot air parched her lips and throat and she was beginning to tire. The man gained on her. Her lungs began to ache. She was wearing out, and still the man kept coming. Pressing on, terrified, she looked over her shoulder and stumbled and fell. Getting up, she slipped. The man was on her. Twisting from his grasp, she ran again, but he was right there. She twisted
and screamed and ran, but there was no escape. She fell, exhausted. As she tried to get up, the man landed on her.
His massive weight pinned her to the ground. His scraggly beard on his fat jowls rubbed coarsely against her cheek, while his sweat poured on her like a sprinkler. He had narrow eyes like a pig. He smiled, enjoying the position.
"Maybe next time," he said before he got off of her. He took her by the arm and jerked her to her feet. "Now you will not fight so much. You will be easy to handle," he laughed.
She elbowed him in the stomach with all the strength she could muster. He winced, took her by the hair, and shoved her back toward the base camp. "Back to the truck," he said angrily.
William had decided to drive around to the rear ridge of the terrorist camp. However, arriving near the front of the camp he saw Ismail's men were out of the camp and into the open, and appeared to be searching for something. William was sure they would be spotted.
"Quick, turn us around and get out of here, Gerald," William ordered.
They set out for the base camp and elected to do the operation the next day. Approaching the camp they spotted the truck. They parked away from the camp, and William sent Gerald to find out who was in the truck. William followed closely behind. When Gerald signaled that the truck was empty, they met outside the camp and conferred. Checking the perimeter of the camp for footprints, Gerald quickly found marks that looked like people running. He grabbed the binoculars and spotted Kenza and the man approaching a mile away. He handed the binoculars to William.
When William saw who had Kenza, he moaned. "Where's the best place to take him?" William asked.
"He'll be cautious here in the camp. We should get out there in his path and wait until he passes, and then take him from behind." He looked at William. "Two people make twice as much noise, and that means there is twice the chance he'll discover us and use Kenza as a shield."
William thought that over. Gerald was the expert in real combat. Logically he should be the one to go. On the other hand, William had the most motivation to get Kenza away from the man. He was most likely to be successful.
"I'll set the first trap," William said. "If he gets by me, you get him."
Gerald took a deep breath. "He's going to be looking this direction. Run quickly, stooped over. Walk the last hundred steps to let yourself catch your breath. Pick several... "
William was already underway. He returned to the truck, picked out the laser pistol, and ran in a long sweeping arc that better hid his movements, toward a point that intersected Kenza's path. Gerald waited a half minute, and then followed. William chose a shallow wash to hide in that was near their path and partially hidden by scraggly bushes, and took off his shoes so he could move noiselessly.
Several minutes later, Kenza and the man passed within fifty feet of him. After they were out of the range of the man's peripheral vision, William moved quickly but silently directly in back of him, and then moved to within twenty feet of him. Kenza was being held to the front of the man and to the side, the man was holding her by her hair.
William aimed the laser pistol and fired, zigzagging it across his back, but being careful not to hit Kenza. The man yelled, released Kenza, and tried to reach his back with both hands. He turned and saw William.
"Lay down on your back, before your shirt burns off your back," William
The man laid down immediately to put out the smoldering fire.
"Are you OK?" William asked Kenza.
"I... I guess so," she said, very shaken by the ordeal.
"Go back to the camp," William ordered. She moved quickly away.
The man laid on the ground looking at William and wincing from the burns.
"You're Hadid, aren't you?"
Hadid nodded. "So you're the one who sneaked into our camp. Who are you?"
William ignored his question. "We know all about who you are. Your terrorist ambitions are finished, so go peacefully. Get up and walk back to the camp. One false move and I'll cremate you."
At the camp they tied Hadid's hands and legs and put him in the truck.
"What are you going to do with him? Drop him in the ocean?" Kenza asked bitterly.
"No, we'll just drop him off in the middle of nowhere. He won't get back in time to bother our plans, and we won't have to worry about him escaping."
As they traveled, Gerald rubbed some salve onto Hadid's light burns. Forty miles from camp, they untied him and gave him a canteen of water. He wasn't grateful.
"You win this time. Next time I will take your head," he warned.
"Let's just say goodbye and forget next time." William replied.
All that night, William wrestled with the problem of what to do with Kenza while they visited the terrorist camp the following day. The next morning he rose, broke camp, and took Kenza into Hadid's truck. He drove it away from the area until he found a secluded ravine five miles away, and he hid them there. He told her if anyone approached, to drive away and not stop until she reached
the border. He was satisfied no one could have followed them or would know where they had gone. And then they drove to the ridge around the terrorist camp.
After they parked, William instructed Gerald: "Set these three mortars up about two hundred yards apart at the rear of the ridge, well hidden, and aimed just inside the perimeter of the camp. We don't want to hit anyone. We'll fire three shots each. If I'm right, Ismail will send his men to the sides to work their way back here."
Gerald set the mortars up, and they began firing them. They saw Ismail in the valley immediately check the hillside with binoculars, and then dispatch his men as William said he would. As soon as they began moving, William and his men got in the truck and drove to the right point of the ridge, in front of where Ismail's men were going. Gerald then clamped the power laser in position, while William watched Ismail, and Paul watched the terrorist troop movements.
"They're moving slowly. They haven't yet reached the hillside," Paul reported.
"They won't waste much time before coming around this ridge," Gerald stated. "You had better not waste much time talking to Ismail."
"OK, burn a line in front of Ismail. I think he'll get the message and come up here. I'll meet him part way down."
The laser beam scorched the mostly barren ground and started small tufts of grass on fire. Ismail looked to the source of the beam with his binoculars. William motioned for him to come toward them, and seeing they were doing nothing but burning a line on the ground toward themselves, Ismail soon followed the beam toward them. Gerald shut the beam off. William walked a couple of hundred yards down the slope toward Ismail. Gerald and Paul stayed in the truck.
Ismail stopped about ten feet away. He was about William's height, dark like most Arabic people, and handsome, with well balanced features. The way he held himself indicated a refined man, sure of himself. His brown eyes flashed angrily.
"What do you want?" he asked, speaking in good diplomatic English.
"I represent a group that is interested in supporting you to help bring peace to the middle east. We can give you much help toward that end, but not through terrorism."
"We need no help," he said firmly.
"Consider this, then. We can work together or against each other. Which would you prefer?"
"I suppose this little group of yours is going to make war on us?"
William's look was cold, but calm. "We'll burn buildings in Syria in your name, and then tell the Syrian military where to find you."
Ismail was shaken. "Look!" he shouted angrily. "What do you know of my country? It is torn apart by other countries using it for a war playground. Thousands of people are being dragged into this. Their homes are destroyed, they are threatened, tortured, even killed." He continued passionately, "Once Lebanon was a beautiful, free land where people of all persuasions worked, lived, and attended great universities. Now we are nothing; we are infested with vipers."
"So why are you making more war?"
"To bring peace," he said in frustration. He continued pleadingly. "Has the world no mercy? No compassion? Stay out of our land. All we want is peace. Peace to raise our families without fear. Peace to have a government that works again. Peace to live without the tyranny of countless armies fighting among us. Let us be, I beg of you. Stay out of Lebanon and let us gain
"We all want peace, but don't be a fool. You can't win this way, you'll only be killed! Go back to Lebanon. Use what you do best, government pressure and reform."
Ismail looked at him in disgust. "Government pressure? What a joke. Reform?" He spat. "They kill reformers after they quit laughing at them. The only pressure and reform in Lebanon is at the point of a gun."
William played his last card. "What can you accomplish when you are dead? We found you. I know the Russians have found you, and they favor Syria. It's only a matter of time before you are located and killed. How can you help Lebanon when you are dead?"
Ismail had a determined look on his face. "We will do it," he said through his teeth.
"We can help you do it better. Better for all Middle East people."
"Never!" Ismail said with finality. And then he looked at him defiantly. "Even if I tore down this training camp and went back to Lebanon, what makes you think we would be through?"
"Because we're always watching," William replied.
Looking frustrated, Ismail turned and went slowly down the hill. William knew he wasn't about to dismantle his tents.
"I'll see you in Beirut," William shouted after him.
Ismail stopped and turned around slowly, glaring at him. "If you interfere, I'll kill you." He continued on down the slope.
William moved quickly back up the hill, watching Ismail's retreat for any sign of attack.
Paul and Gerald had been observing the camp, the troops, and Ismail. They hadn't seen Hadid and his comrade slip up behind the truck. Paul decided
to get atop the truck for better visibility with the binoculars. As he rounded the end, Hadid stepped forward and hit him in the side of the head with the heel of his hand. Paul slumped to the ground, unconscious. His comrade sprang for Gerald.
Gerald assumed a martial arts defense stance. As the man approached, Gerald deftly stepped aside and kicked him in the stomach. As he doubled up, Gerald advanced quickly on him and hit him in the back of the neck with both hands doubled. The man went down. Gerald lifted his boot to deliver a crushing stomp to his head, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a sword about to swing. He threw himself out of the way, and sailed headlong down the steep part of the slope, rolling about fifty feet.
Hadid looked at William and smiled. "Now, I've come for your head." He walked cautiously toward William, looking for any sign of a weapon.
He was about fifteen paces away, the sword at the ready. William looked around. There was no point in running, since he had to get Paul and Gerald out of there. He was going to have to face that sword. He knew a fast approach with a raised sword was likely to hit him.
As Hadid approached, William saw him study him for any clue as to his defense plan. William gave him none to respond to. He stood erect, his hands dangling at his sides, his body at a slight angle to Hadid, with his right leg slightly back. Hadid began to maneuver around, testing William, looking for a response. William stood still, appearing defenseless. Finally Hadid became flustered at getting no defensive response from him. He stood erect, six feet away, and stopped moving, his sword still raised in front of him.
"I'm disappointed. You're making it too easy," Hadid said.
"How did you get back here?" William asked.
"Ahmed, of course. The KGB thinks he works for them, but really he works for us. They've been watching every move you make, and Ahmed has been telling us."
"Are you aligned with the KGB, or are they just here enjoying the show?"
"We're aligned with no one. Now you're going to die."
As Hadid raised the sword, William sprang into action. He moved forward, leading with his left foot and simultaneously raised his left arm to block Hadid's sword arm. Then, gaining power from his next step forward, he struck Hadid in the chest with the heel of his right hand, sending Hadid reeling backward onto the ground.
"I could just as easily have killed you," William warned. "Get down the hill while you still can."
Hadid was only angered. "You fool, you toy with death." He sprang to his feet and began swinging the sword back and forth in tightly controlled but powerful motions.
William skillfully backed away, moving to the side so Hadid would have to make wider swings. As a wide swing left Hadid's body open, William stepped in close and levered him over his back in a judo throw. The sword dropped and William kicked it out of the way. Hadid quickly regained his feet, undaunted.
"Your luck has ended. I will tear your head off."
They began circling each other in a martial arts crouch. Hadid made a couple of kicks and spun out of reach.
While William was looking for a better opening, Hadid tried a straight in punch, which William dodged and kicked him in the thigh. The pain put an end to his kicking. Angered, Hadid threw a wild punch, which William easily deflected, grabbing Hadid's wrist and pulling it down while pushing his elbow up, forcing him to turn and bend over.
William kneed him in the stomach, doubling him over, and then William kneed him in the face. Hadid grabbed William's knee and upset him, but Hadid was stunned so badly he moved away, clutching at his face, staggering after the sword. As Hadid bent over to pick it up, William threw himself at him, knocking him headlong over the hillside.
Gerald, climbing the hill, stepped out of the way as Hadid rolled past. "That's justice," he said. He picked the other man up, who was just coming around, and shoved him over the side.
"I'll tend to Paul. You get on the laser and burn that entire camp to the ground," William said.
Paul was still unconscious. William picked him up fireman's carry and put him in the back seat. And then he picked up the binoculars and jumped into the truck bed to watch for troops coming. They were coming up the hill and around the ridge.
"They're almost within firing distance," William shouted to Gerald.
"This should stop them," he replied, and focused the laser on the ammo dump. It blew quickly. All the troops stopped to look. William focused his binoculars on Ismail. Ismail took the cloth from his head and threw it to the ground, and tore his shirt open.
The troops were swarming like angry hornets and began firing on them. "Let's go home, Gerald."
They jumped out of the truck bed and into the truck. Gerald raced away, toward the end of the ridge.
"We haven't been down this side," William yelled to Gerald as they approached the end of the ridge.
"We'll make it," he said, and kept racing. At the edge he slowed to five mph, chose a path, and charged on. The truck bolted down the side like a
bucking bronco, the brakes useless. The speedometer hit fifty, and they became airborne as the slope dropped sharply downward. Hitting dirt again, the truck began to slide sideways. Gerald applied the brakes, and the wide tandem tires on the rear found enough traction to stabilize them, but they had lost control and were taking out brush and trees as they plunged and slid headlong down the slope. Fighting the wheel furiously, Gerald prevented them from going sideways and turning over.
A deep trench appeared. Locking the brakes, Gerald sent the truck into an uncontrollable slide. Realizing his mistake, he released the brakes and quickly took the vehicle out of four wheel drive and threw the transmission into reverse. The transmission screamed, but the big tandem rear wheels dug in, stabilizing the slide and slowing them to thirty mph before hitting the trench. Gerald cut the wheels sharply, channeling the truck to run with the deep trench. They reached the valley floor in another hundred feet.
"Nice driving," William said.
Paul moaned. After a moment he asked, "What happened?"
"Hadid tried to break your neck, and then Gerald tried to kill us all coming down this hill, that's all. Just relax, it's all over."
When they reached the spot where they had left Kenza, she met them at a run. William pulled her into the truck and they raced toward Lebanon.
"What happened?" she asked.
"We took on an army," Gerald replied. "And we won."
After crossing the border, Kenza asked, "Is it finally over?"
William smiled and nodded his head reassuringly. They all began to relax.
After leaving Paul under a Doctor's care, they checked into a hotel. As they entered their room, Kenza surveyed the two men. Gerald's face was cut and bruised, and his clothes torn from the fall down the slope. William was only
Kenza looked at William and scolded him in jest. "You ruffian. Take your friends out and get their heads bashed in." She pulled Gerald into the room with them and began tending his wounds.
"It was all Hadid's fault," William said to her.
"Hadid! He made it back?"
"Bigger than life. We didn't count on there being a KGB link. It turns out Ahmed is working for them both."
Kenza shook her head. "I'll never understand this stuff. So, anyway, what happened to Hadid?"
"The last I saw of him, he was rolling merrily down a hill."
"You brute," she scolded, and kissed him.
* * *
That evening, William called Samuel and reviewed the mission with him. After he hung up, he gave everyone their new assignments.
"Paul is temporarily reassigned to the Embassy in Germany, as planned. He is to remain available to us in case we need him. I'll tell him tomorrow when he gets out of the hospital. Gerald, also as planned, you're temporarily reassigned as a training instructor in Germany. Do you want to be available in case we need you again?"
"Depends," Gerald said. He looked at Kenza, then shook his head and smiled. "Oh, what the hell," he said, changing his mind.
"What's your new assignment?" Kenza asked.
"I'm going to establish a business cover in Lebanon, and continue trying to find a leader we can work with. If Ismail shows up, I'm going to work on him some more. I think he is the kind of person we're looking for."
Kenza was shocked. "But they are our enemies! You burned down their
"Not enemies," William corrected. "We both want the same things, and sometimes confrontation helps make strong allies. We'll have to work at it to persuade them."
"I think you're crazy," Kenza replied. "He'll never get along with you."
William shrugged. "Maybe not."
"And what about me?" Kenza asked.
William smiled at her. "What would you like to do?"
"I'll have to think about that," she replied. "We'll talk later."
William opened champagne. Gerald placed fluorescent bulbs around the room and fired the communications laser at them. Then he began firing at them in the air while Kenza and William threw them back and forth. After a while he was teaching Kenza how to fire at them, cheering heartily every time she hit one.
Finally, after several glasses of champagne, Gerald kissed her on the cheek and said, "you did very well with the chemicals." But he couldn't bring himself to say more.
Later, after Gerald had gone, William and Kenza were together on the room balcony. In contrast to where they had been, a gentle breeze wafted cool air in from the Mediterranean, the lights of Beirut giving an aura of quiet and tranquility, just the setting William needed for his next move. As Kenza stood leaning over the rail, watching the city, William stood with his back to the rail, drinking in Kenza's beauty. She wore a skirt and a short top exposing the golden skin of her midriff.
"You, uh, made quite an impression on Gerald," William stated. "He thinks women are strictly spice of life items. He was impressed."
"Score one for femininity," Kenza replied, beaming.
"Score two. I think you're pretty nice myself." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an old ring case, opened it, and placed it on the rail before her.
She gaped at the rings, wonderful surprise splashed across her face. He took the engagement ring from the pair and placed it on her finger as she admired them. Still speechless, she put her arms around his neck, never taking her eyes from the diamond.
"You're sparkling like the diamond," he said admiringly.
Her gaze left the diamond temporarily as she kissed him. "Where did you get it?" she asked, and looked back at the diamond. "There wasn't time."
"Out of an old bag," William teased. "I've had it for years. I bought it on the way back to Morocco in Naval Intelligence. I never could make myself get rid of it."
She responded with a passionate hug and kiss. And then she turned away from him. When she turned back, she said, "Let's give this a while, OK. I want it to work. Let's just stay engaged and make sure this is right for both of us."
"Still don't trust me, do you?"
"I've found I hardly know you. In fact, I don't really know you at all," she said, but quickly added, "but I like what I see so far."
"Didn't you ever think about me, all these years?" he asked.
"No, not at all," she toyed merrily with him. "Well, once in a while, just a little," she teased and then continued honestly, "When Mike turned out to be such a beast, sometimes I would fantasize that you would come to England and carry me away on a white horse." She put her arms around him. "Carry me away," she invited. "Gladly," he said, and picked her up and carried her inside. Next: Chapter 13
Next: Chapter 13