The Iranian Intercept: A Ross Brannan Thriller (The Secret Cold War Book 3) by R G Ainslee

Author:R G Ainslee [Ainslee, R G]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-19T16:00:00+00:00

23 ~ Escape

Wednesday AM, 7 February: West of Site T-2

The half-strong moonlight imparted an ominous air to the valley below. Darkness had descended, and we were still making our way along the ridgeline. We wanted to place as much distance between us and the Russians as possible.

Leaving the site, we followed Jack's original route down into the gap. It was impossible to hide our tracks. The Russians would know someone skied away, unless they deduced from the herringbones coming back up the ridge, that the tracks were old.

Jack schussed effortlessly down the grade. I followed tentatively and managed to make it all the way down without falling. We topped the next ridge and stopped to look back across to the site. The generator fire glowed in the darkness. We saw no sign of the Russians.

Our route carried us out of sight of the main building and we made our way around the north side of the ridge. We then searched for a way over the top and down into the valley on the south side.

Jack pulled up beside a large boulder. "You need a rest?"

"Yeah, let's take two." Already tired and sore, I had crashed several times on icy stretches. "Say, don’t you think it's strange the generator blew up and they attacked right after I made the intercept?"

"Yeah, wondered 'bout that myself."

"Could have been a setup, maybe somebody tipped them off?"

"Dunno. The air insertion required some planning, but the Colt had civilian markings. Perhaps they mounted a spur of the moment operation."

"They must have known in advance. Warned by somebody who knew why we were there."

"Looks like it."

"But who? The maintenance tech and the guards were the only ones left."

"And they hightailed it just in time." Jack gazed back down the trail. "My money’s on Takiri."

"He’s the one with connections. Why him?"

"Takiri is one of those special SOB’s, the ones that always land on their feet, the ones that would sell their mother for the right price. He's no dummy, knows which way the wind's blowing. Wouldn't surprise me one bit if he sold us out to save his own skin."

"Amadeo … do you think—"

"Not sure if Takiri knew about him. Anyway, when the chutes started coming down, he would know something was up and lay low. They know someone is free because of our radio traffic."

I said, "Try him again." We tried to raise Amadeo several times along the way without success. The jamming persisted.

Jack pulled the unit out of his parka and switched on. "No jamming." The radio hissed normal white noise. "Romeo Alfa." No answer. "Romeo Alfa." The jamming returned.

"Do you think they have him?" I asked.

"Not if they're still jamming. He must be out there somewhere, just doesn't have it switched on." He raised his arm and inspected the luminous dial of his Tag Heuer Carrera. "We'll check again in ten."

We took a break at the top of the next ridge, an opening spread below us, offering a possible way to the valley floor. "This looks like the side valley on the map.

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