Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [121]
Less than five minutes after he woke, Falah was bent over a stream, sucking water through a minty reedstalk. As he savored the cool water his radio vibrated. With the throw of a switch, the radio could be made to beep. However, when he was working undercover or stalking an enemy who could be concealed anywhere, that was not something Falah desired.
Crouching, Falah chewed on the reed as he answered. He never sat down in the open. In an emergency, it took that much longer to get to his feet.
"Ana rahgil achmel muzehri," he answered in Arabic. "I am a farmer."
"Inta mineyn?" asked the caller. "Where are you from?"
Falah recognized the voice of Master Sergeant Vilnai, just as Vilnai had surely recognized his. For the sake of security, the two men went through the exchange of codes just the same.
"Ana min Beirut," Falah replied. " I am from Beirut." If he'd been injured he would have answered, "Ana min Hermil." If he'd been captured he would have said, "Ana min Tyre."
As soon as Falah had said that he was from Beirut, Master Sergeant Vilnai said, "Eight, six, six, ten, zero, seventeen."
Falah repeated the numbers. Then he pulled the map from the pouch. There was a drawing of the valley with a grid sketched on top of it. The first two numbers of the sequence directed Falah to a grid box. The second pair of numbers indicated an exact spot within the grid. The final two numbers referred to a vertical location. They meant that the cave he sought was situated point-seventeen miles up the side of a cliff, probably along a road.
"I see it," Falah said. Not only did he see it, but it was the perfect place for a military base. There was a gorge behind it which could easily accommodate helicopters and training facilities.
"Go there," Vilnai replied. "Reconnoiter and signal if affirmative. Then wait."
"Understood," the young man said. "Sahl."
"Sahl," Vilnai answered.
Sahl meant "easy" and it was Falah's individual sign-off. He had selected the word because it was ironic. Due to Falah's high success rate, his superiors had always chided him that he'd picked the word because it was true. As a result, they kept threatening to give him more dangerous assignments. Falah dared them to find more dangerous assignments.
After replacing the radio, Falah took a moment to study the map. He groaned. The cave he sought was nearly fourteen miles away. Given the incline of the hills and the rough terrain here, and allowing for a short rest, it would take him approximately five and a half hours to reach his destination. He also knew that as soon as he entered the valley his radio would be ineffective. In order to communicate with Tel Nef he'd have to use the EAR's uplink.
Spitting out the reed he'd been chewing, Falah pulled up a few more for later. He tucked them in the deep cuff of his robe and started out. As he walked, he ate the map for breakfast.
Falah was out of condition. When he reached the cave shortly after noon, his legs felt like sacks of sand and his once-tough feet were bleeding at the heels. There were large calluses on the balls of both feet and his skin was greasy with sweat. But the discomfort was forgotten as he arrived at his destination. Through the dense copse he saw rows of trees and a cave. Between the woods and the cave, on a sloping dirt road, was the white van. It was covered with a camouflage tarpaulin and was guarded by two men with semiautomatics. A quarter mile away was a road-cut which led behind the mountain.
Falah crouched behind a boulder some four hundred yards away. After unshouldering his duffel bag he dug a small hole. He carefully collected the dirt in a neat pile beside it. Then he looked around for a large clump of grass. Finding one, he removed it and set it on top of the mound of dirt.
Now that he was ready, Falah turned his attention to the cave. It was located roughly sixty feet up the side of a cliff, just above the tree line. It was accessible