Note: See Part 1 for disclaimers.

THE ONLY EASY DAY IS YESTERDAY

"The Journey of Jeremy Keller"

Part 3

Jeremy couldn't say how long it had been since he left Virginia,

but things had been going smoothly. The car ran well, and between the

cash he had and what Grigori was carrying, he figured he could keep

going for a few more days. He stayed on secondary roads when possible.

It was only a matter of time before they started looking for the car.

Perhaps it was time to start switching plates. So few people looked at

their license plates; it would buy him a few days.

Flashing lights and a siren brought him out of his thoughts. It

was too late. Someone had spotted him. Perhaps it was just a speed trap.

Jeremy pulled to the side of the road. It was a two-way black top

someplace in the south with no other traffic in sight. The cruiser was

unmarked with lights in the grill. He sat and waited as they made the

license check. Perhaps luck would be with him and the authorities hadn't

traced Grigori to this car. If they hadn't, it would probably turn out that

Grigori had stolen it.

The doors to the police car opened, and the officers stayed behind

them with weapons drawn. "You in the car!" One of them said through

the p.a. "get out with your hands raised, and lay face down on the

ground." Up ahead, lights from approaching cruisers were cresting a hill.

In response, Keller fired up the Z28 and sped away, the rear tires

spraying the police with stones. Just as he started out, he thought he

heard one of the cops yell "All right! We've got us a runner!"

Grigori's Z28 flew down the old road barely touching the ground

as it crested some of the hills. Keller passed the approaching police

before they even knew he was running. Soon there were three cars in hot

pursuit. If the road were straight and flat it would be no contest, but it

was a rolling black top that Keller had never seen before.

The odds were against him, and they would soon have road

blocks set up. Ahead, the surrounding foliage opened up revealing a

bridge. Two police cars were half way across when they saw him coming

and quickly parked next to each other very effectively blocking the way.

Keller smiled. This was going to get good. Then, he shifted gears and

floored the gas pedal.

The cops heard the rev of the engine as he started gaining speed,

and ran they for cover. Keller aimed at the road block, then at the last

minute jerked the wheel hard to the left. The camaro sheared through the

supports of the bridge and was airborne. Now the engine really revved

for the few seconds the car was in the air. Upon impact, the front end

buckled deploying the air bags. From the outside, the car looked like an

Olympic diver slicing gracefully into the water.

When the car hit the water, Keller's neck snapped. His back broke in two

places, and both of his legs suffered multiple fractures as the engine

crushed back into the car's fire wall.

The river was wide, quick and deep. The car was soon carried

well down stream where it tangled with some trees caught on the bottom.

The Camaro's interior was well designed and semi water tight even with

the damage it had suffered..........

---

Sand, water and seaweed washed over Keller's body as he baked

in the sun. Sharp pain rushed through his body, shocking him out of the

darkness. Jeremy instinctively dragged himself out of the surf and into

the near by brush. The hot Arabian sun burned down from the mid

morning sky quickly drying him and caking sea salt into his pores.

Keller took stock of his equipment. His pistol handled pump

shotgun was still strapped to his back. The .357 magnum was holstered

to his right ankle and his diver's knife was strapped to the other. The re-

breather was long gone. He remember discarding it as it failed on him.

All in all, his situation was rather bleak. All of his survival equipment

was gone, he was somewhere in the desert wearing only a wet suit and

rubber swim shoes. If the enemy didn't find him, the sun would surely

kill him in a matter of days.

How he survived this far, he had know idea. By all rights he

should be dead. Normally a re-breather failure is the end of it.

Now what was the plan? By his best guess he was on the eastern

shore. That meant he could be in Saudi Arabia. But he wasn't sure. Best

thing to do would be to dig in and wait for someone, anyone, to come by.

If it were friendlies, that would be great. If it were Iraqis, well, they

probably would have some kind of supplies he could use.

Lieutenant Keller wandered in land a few hundred feet. He had

to be careful, if this was Kuwait, then the place could be heavily mined.

Near shore, there was a wide single lane unpainted road.

"Do I follow it south, or stay put?" he thought to himself. He

breathed in deeply; he felt invigorated. Perhaps the walk would do him

good. Keller removed his ripped wet suit and tied it in a bundle. He was

left wearing only swim trunks and the rubber swim shoes. Looking up at

the sun, he decided it would be best to wait till evening.

There were some scraggly palm trees near the water so he used

his knife to cut palms and build a shelter. The shelter looked like pile of

debris, exactly how it was designed. It only needed to provide one

function, protect him from the sun, which it did effectively enough.

As the sun set, Keller started off down the road. He wore his wet

suit top for some protection from the environment but buried the shredded

pants, leaving only his swim trunks and rubber swim shoes to complete

the outfit. Night came quickly, revealing a full sky of stars and soon any

heat absorbed by the desert was released into the night. The temperature

fell quickly, putting a definite chill in the air.

Keller was about to pick up his pace when two pair of head lights

appeared on the road ahead. He instinctively dove to the shadows of the

burm. He grasped his shot gun with both hands and waited for the cars

to pass. If they were Americans, they may mistakenly shoot him. It was

also still a possibility that he was in the wrong country.

As they approached, they slowed down. The cars were big new

American fat rides. One was a Chevy Caprice and the other a Lincoln

Town Car. Both cars were white with blacked out windows. Suddenly a

convulsion ripped through his body. It was similar to what he felt when

he first woke up but much stronger.

The first men out of the cars wore tan uniforms, or were they work

clothes? It was hard to tell in the dark. They all carried sub machine

guns but kept them pointed at the ground. Two came from the first car,

and the third was the driver of the second. Finally a second man came

out of the second car. He wore the full traditional Saudi clothes,

including white robes and red-checked headdress folded casually across

the top of his head. He was a short man, no more then five and a half

feet, and looked to be in his early twenties.

The Saudi called out something in Arabic. They must have seen

him even from that great distance. If these were Saudis, then they should

be on his side, but everyone knew there were fundamentalists that greatly

opposed the US presence in the country.

Again, the Saudi said something in Arabic. It sounded like the

same thing he said before. Then he switched to English and spoke with a

very clear European accent. "My dear brother, you having nothing to fear

from me. Please come out so I can help you." He then turned to the

other men and had them put their weapons in the cars. "You see. Your

safe."

Keller knew he couldn't hide forever. Yhey had him. He stood up

slowly, keeping his shot gun trained on the leader. One of the guards

looked toward his weapon when Keller stood up, but was called back by

the Saudi.

"Who are you?" Keller commanded

"Ah, an American. Very good."

"How did you know I was here?"

"Feel that knot in your stomach and the nausea that came with it

when I approached?"

"What about it?"

"I feel it too, but I also felt it this morning when you woke up."

"I don't know what your talking about." Keller inched closer to the

group.

"Of course you don't. This is all new to you. Let me fix you up,

and I'll tell you. Then I'll take you back to your people. You must still

have a lot of work to do."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"Do you have a choice? What does your gut tell you?"

"Do you have any water?"

"Of course." He then said something to one of the other men who

reached into the car. Keller immediately took aim at that man.

He emerged with a small plastic bottle of water and placed it

about ten feet away from Keller. The bottle's seal was unbroken, and it

was cold but not wet. The car must have a mini refrigerator. The water

disappeared in a single swallow.

"Please, my friend, I am Abual Aziz, and I'm here to help." He

then motioned to the men from the first car. They got in, closed the doors

and started the engine. Abual Aziz's driver opened the rear door opposite

the one Aziz had used.

Keller gave up, put the shot gun on safety and got into the car.

Aziz got into car next to Keller and shook his hand. The Saudi's grip was

very light just barely a touch.

"I'm Lieutenant Jeremy Keller of the United States Navy"

"Sit back and rest, Lieutenant Keller. We'll talk when your

strength is back."

Jeremy sat back into the large comfortable seat holding the

shotgun across his lap pointed at the Saudi. He closed his eyes and

passed out.

To be continued........