The Spider and the Fly - Part VII
Harm tried to separate the muffled sounds outside. There was at least three people talking, all men. He reached down into the pack and grabbed the hunting knife. He stuck in the side of his sock along the inside of his ankle.
He looked around the shed. There was an assortment of tools hanging from hooks. Most would be useless against the automatic weapons Saddiq's men would undoubtedly be carrying. He threw Mac a pair of small wire clippers and an Exacto knife. He hoped they would an opportunity to use them. She hid them in her pants.
Then it struck him. He could not follow the conversation of the men outside but he was pretty sure they were speaking English. Would a German farmer and Muslim fanatics speak American English? Perhaps, if there was no other common language. But something was familiar about it all.
He heard them move closer to the shed. He walked over to stand slightly in front of Mac. He smiled wryly at his protective move. In another space and time, she would be angry at the implied gesture.
The door opened and four men came out of the glaring light and into the shadows of the shed. Harm and Mac stood gapped mouth.
"You look a little surprised, Commander. Expecting some one else maybe?" said Retired Rear Admiral Tom Boone.
Behind Tom, Harm could see Gunny smiling. The third man was their other Mennonite friend. It was the farmer whose crop duster they crashed in the woods upstream. He stood beside the farmer they met this morning. Both men were grim faced.
Mac released the breath she was holding. She never expected this. What was Tom Boone doing in Paraguay?
"Mac, did I ever tell you that the admiral had arranged Tom Boone as my unofficial contact?" said Harm. She shook her head slowly, speechless.
"Course I never thought he would show up here," Harm looked at Tom.
"Even before your wheels on that biplane left the ground, our German friend here phoned the US Embassy to find out about you from your passport. I had already made some discrete inquires through the Embassy and they alerted me. Hours later, this entire valley knew about the destruction of the stinger missiles by a pilot in a small crop duster. About the same time, Gunny shows up at the hospital in Asuncion with Webb. He met my plane early yesterday. We spent the night at this man's farm. It's just down the road." Tom had an attitude of alert authority that Mac found reassuring.
She turned to Gunny. "Webb. Is he still alive?"
"Yes ma'am," said Gunny. "He should be out of surgery by now. When he is stabilized, his mother has a charted plane waiting to take him back to Washington. He was asking about you, ma'am. He will be glad to know you are safe."
"Are we safe now?" asked Mac looking between Tom and the German farmers.
"No," one said. "I am Eric Staebler, by the way. And you are not safe. Saddiq is a brutal man and he cannot let the destruction of the stinger missiles go unpunished. He has offered a reward for you. My friend here, at some peril to himself, phoned me instead of Saddiq. You must leave here now."
"I thought you had betrayed us with the van," said Harm. "My apologies."
"When I realized who it belonged to, I had to rid myself of it. I left it abandoned along a deserted road. We live in the same valley as these vicious men but we do not agree with them. But I will not hesitate to keep my family and my community safe. Go now, or I will be forced to call Saddiq myself."
"Now what?" said Harm looking to Tom.
"I don't really know what. I have a rental SUV that I have been using but I don't trust going through the army barricades with a bounty on your head," he said. He turned to Staebler. "You don't by any chance, have another plane hidden somewhere, do you?"
"No," he shook his head. "But I have one more suggestion. Turn north and drive to the Mennonite town of Filadelfia. I will give you an address. My friend takes a daily shipment of produce from this valley to Asuncion. He will let you hide in his truck. But he must stick to his schedule or it will raise suspicions."
"Won't we be putting you and your friend at risk?" asked Mac.
"Yes, some. But we have done this before. Like I said, we don't agree with our neighbors. Now go, quickly," he said.
Harm stuck out his hand to Eric Staebler. "Thank you."
He nodded to Harm. "American Navy, my little crop duster and dynamite make a good bomber, no?"
Harm smiled. "Yes, thank you. We owe you our lives."
He nodded again and made a small salute. Mac, Harm, Tom and Gunny made their way to the Jeep parked in the farmer's yard.
Harm turned abruptly before stepping into the back seat. "Wait a minute. I need to ask them something. Why did he lock us in the shed?"
Boone grinned at Harm. "I told him to. And I would have had you chained to a post if I could. How else was I going to get you to stay in one spot till we got here?"
Harm grinned back. How else indeed?
Mac lay back in the scented water of the soaker tub and closed her eyes. She was in the private bath off of her elegantly appointed room in the American Embassy in Asuncion. It was the first time in weeks that she felt safe. Sort of safe anyways. She wouldn't feel totally safe until she stepped into the concourse at Dulles Airport.
The rest of day had been uneventful compared with the adrenaline rush of the last week. They met Staebler's associate in Filadelfia. It hadn't been the first time he had smuggled someone to Asuncion. The truck had been cleverly altered to hide several people. It had been a bumpy ride to the capital but they reached the Embassy without incident.
A doctor at the Embassy checked her over for wounds and injuries. He gave her some Ibuprofen for aches and some sleeping pills for later. The ambassador's wife led her to her room. There she found a short linen skirt, a beige cotton sweater set, undergarments and a pair of strappy sandals. The fully stock bathroom contained shampoos, conditioners and makeup among other things. Mac felt like she died and gone to heaven.
Mac opened her eyes again and started to scrub her hair. She couldn't get too comfortable. Boone had arranged for a secure call to Admiral Chegwidden in thirty minutes. She smiled as she could feel the grit on her scalp under her fingers. Hair, nails, makeup, a shave all in thirty minutes? She better hurry.
She stepped into the ambassador's officer precisely on time. She looked around and saw Gunny, Boone and the Ambassador.
She heard the speakerphone ring and the admiral's tinny voice came across the line. "Chegwidden."
"Admiral, it's Colonel Mackenzie."
"It's good to hear your voice, Colonel."
"It's good to hear yours too, sir."
"Is your little escapade over? Are you in one piece?"
"Yes, sir."
"We are getting a little backed up here. It will be good to have you back."
"It will be good to be back, sir."
"I hear that you managed to take out the stinger missiles. Nice work, Colonel."
"Much of the credit for that goes to the Commander, sir."
"Is he there?" asked Chegwidden.
Mac didn't know where he was. She looked at Boone.
"Harm is sleeping off a sedative the doctor gave him. Seems there was an additional fragment in that shoulder wound. He had to reopen it," said Tom.
"Is he okay?" asked the admiral.
"Yes sir"
"Well, Webb has arranged for the same charter plane that brought him home to return to pick all of you up tomorrow. Gunny, it is no longer safe for you to be part of the marine attachment at the Embassy in Paraguay. You are to report to Quantico for new orders as soon as convenient. Mac, I'll expect to see you when you return. I want a full report on my desk ASAP."
"What about the commander, sir?"
"What about him, Colonel?"
"Any orders, sir?"
"None. Tom, thanks again for all of your help."
"No problem, AJ"
Tom reached over and disconnected the line. "The ambassador wants to know if anyone would like to join him in an hour for dinner?"
Mac shook her head. "I am tired. Could I beg off this time?"
"I arrange for a meal to be sent to your room, Colonel," the ambassador said.
She nodded in thanks. Walking down the corridor to her room, she spied a maid coming from a room with a stack of towels. She realized it was Harm's room.
She slipped into the darkened room. Harm was sleeping on the white sheets of the bed on his side. She could see a new clean dressing taped to his shoulder. She walked over to the bed and slipped under the covers fully dressed. She spooned next to his back and threw her arm over him. She closed her eyes.
Harm tried to separate the muffled sounds outside. There was at least three people talking, all men. He reached down into the pack and grabbed the hunting knife. He stuck in the side of his sock along the inside of his ankle.
He looked around the shed. There was an assortment of tools hanging from hooks. Most would be useless against the automatic weapons Saddiq's men would undoubtedly be carrying. He threw Mac a pair of small wire clippers and an Exacto knife. He hoped they would an opportunity to use them. She hid them in her pants.
Then it struck him. He could not follow the conversation of the men outside but he was pretty sure they were speaking English. Would a German farmer and Muslim fanatics speak American English? Perhaps, if there was no other common language. But something was familiar about it all.
He heard them move closer to the shed. He walked over to stand slightly in front of Mac. He smiled wryly at his protective move. In another space and time, she would be angry at the implied gesture.
The door opened and four men came out of the glaring light and into the shadows of the shed. Harm and Mac stood gapped mouth.
"You look a little surprised, Commander. Expecting some one else maybe?" said Retired Rear Admiral Tom Boone.
Behind Tom, Harm could see Gunny smiling. The third man was their other Mennonite friend. It was the farmer whose crop duster they crashed in the woods upstream. He stood beside the farmer they met this morning. Both men were grim faced.
Mac released the breath she was holding. She never expected this. What was Tom Boone doing in Paraguay?
"Mac, did I ever tell you that the admiral had arranged Tom Boone as my unofficial contact?" said Harm. She shook her head slowly, speechless.
"Course I never thought he would show up here," Harm looked at Tom.
"Even before your wheels on that biplane left the ground, our German friend here phoned the US Embassy to find out about you from your passport. I had already made some discrete inquires through the Embassy and they alerted me. Hours later, this entire valley knew about the destruction of the stinger missiles by a pilot in a small crop duster. About the same time, Gunny shows up at the hospital in Asuncion with Webb. He met my plane early yesterday. We spent the night at this man's farm. It's just down the road." Tom had an attitude of alert authority that Mac found reassuring.
She turned to Gunny. "Webb. Is he still alive?"
"Yes ma'am," said Gunny. "He should be out of surgery by now. When he is stabilized, his mother has a charted plane waiting to take him back to Washington. He was asking about you, ma'am. He will be glad to know you are safe."
"Are we safe now?" asked Mac looking between Tom and the German farmers.
"No," one said. "I am Eric Staebler, by the way. And you are not safe. Saddiq is a brutal man and he cannot let the destruction of the stinger missiles go unpunished. He has offered a reward for you. My friend here, at some peril to himself, phoned me instead of Saddiq. You must leave here now."
"I thought you had betrayed us with the van," said Harm. "My apologies."
"When I realized who it belonged to, I had to rid myself of it. I left it abandoned along a deserted road. We live in the same valley as these vicious men but we do not agree with them. But I will not hesitate to keep my family and my community safe. Go now, or I will be forced to call Saddiq myself."
"Now what?" said Harm looking to Tom.
"I don't really know what. I have a rental SUV that I have been using but I don't trust going through the army barricades with a bounty on your head," he said. He turned to Staebler. "You don't by any chance, have another plane hidden somewhere, do you?"
"No," he shook his head. "But I have one more suggestion. Turn north and drive to the Mennonite town of Filadelfia. I will give you an address. My friend takes a daily shipment of produce from this valley to Asuncion. He will let you hide in his truck. But he must stick to his schedule or it will raise suspicions."
"Won't we be putting you and your friend at risk?" asked Mac.
"Yes, some. But we have done this before. Like I said, we don't agree with our neighbors. Now go, quickly," he said.
Harm stuck out his hand to Eric Staebler. "Thank you."
He nodded to Harm. "American Navy, my little crop duster and dynamite make a good bomber, no?"
Harm smiled. "Yes, thank you. We owe you our lives."
He nodded again and made a small salute. Mac, Harm, Tom and Gunny made their way to the Jeep parked in the farmer's yard.
Harm turned abruptly before stepping into the back seat. "Wait a minute. I need to ask them something. Why did he lock us in the shed?"
Boone grinned at Harm. "I told him to. And I would have had you chained to a post if I could. How else was I going to get you to stay in one spot till we got here?"
Harm grinned back. How else indeed?
Mac lay back in the scented water of the soaker tub and closed her eyes. She was in the private bath off of her elegantly appointed room in the American Embassy in Asuncion. It was the first time in weeks that she felt safe. Sort of safe anyways. She wouldn't feel totally safe until she stepped into the concourse at Dulles Airport.
The rest of day had been uneventful compared with the adrenaline rush of the last week. They met Staebler's associate in Filadelfia. It hadn't been the first time he had smuggled someone to Asuncion. The truck had been cleverly altered to hide several people. It had been a bumpy ride to the capital but they reached the Embassy without incident.
A doctor at the Embassy checked her over for wounds and injuries. He gave her some Ibuprofen for aches and some sleeping pills for later. The ambassador's wife led her to her room. There she found a short linen skirt, a beige cotton sweater set, undergarments and a pair of strappy sandals. The fully stock bathroom contained shampoos, conditioners and makeup among other things. Mac felt like she died and gone to heaven.
Mac opened her eyes again and started to scrub her hair. She couldn't get too comfortable. Boone had arranged for a secure call to Admiral Chegwidden in thirty minutes. She smiled as she could feel the grit on her scalp under her fingers. Hair, nails, makeup, a shave all in thirty minutes? She better hurry.
She stepped into the ambassador's officer precisely on time. She looked around and saw Gunny, Boone and the Ambassador.
She heard the speakerphone ring and the admiral's tinny voice came across the line. "Chegwidden."
"Admiral, it's Colonel Mackenzie."
"It's good to hear your voice, Colonel."
"It's good to hear yours too, sir."
"Is your little escapade over? Are you in one piece?"
"Yes, sir."
"We are getting a little backed up here. It will be good to have you back."
"It will be good to be back, sir."
"I hear that you managed to take out the stinger missiles. Nice work, Colonel."
"Much of the credit for that goes to the Commander, sir."
"Is he there?" asked Chegwidden.
Mac didn't know where he was. She looked at Boone.
"Harm is sleeping off a sedative the doctor gave him. Seems there was an additional fragment in that shoulder wound. He had to reopen it," said Tom.
"Is he okay?" asked the admiral.
"Yes sir"
"Well, Webb has arranged for the same charter plane that brought him home to return to pick all of you up tomorrow. Gunny, it is no longer safe for you to be part of the marine attachment at the Embassy in Paraguay. You are to report to Quantico for new orders as soon as convenient. Mac, I'll expect to see you when you return. I want a full report on my desk ASAP."
"What about the commander, sir?"
"What about him, Colonel?"
"Any orders, sir?"
"None. Tom, thanks again for all of your help."
"No problem, AJ"
Tom reached over and disconnected the line. "The ambassador wants to know if anyone would like to join him in an hour for dinner?"
Mac shook her head. "I am tired. Could I beg off this time?"
"I arrange for a meal to be sent to your room, Colonel," the ambassador said.
She nodded in thanks. Walking down the corridor to her room, she spied a maid coming from a room with a stack of towels. She realized it was Harm's room.
She slipped into the darkened room. Harm was sleeping on the white sheets of the bed on his side. She could see a new clean dressing taped to his shoulder. She walked over to the bed and slipped under the covers fully dressed. She spooned next to his back and threw her arm over him. She closed her eyes.
