Cody's Army (31 page)

“I feel sorry for you, American, if you truly believe that. If so, what is the purpose in life?”

Cody took the pocket-size radio and pushed the talk switch. “Rufe, I lost the bird. We have two choppers here with broken
wings. Divert one of the Chinooks out here to pick us up and get started loading back there. Copy?”

“Copy. One big banana heading your way. The jets overhead will direct it.
Out.”

Farouk looked at Cody as he pushed down the antenna on the radio and put it back in his fatigue-jacket breast pocket.

“You think it is so easy, American? We fight for our lives here, like you did in 1776. Eventually we will win! Palestine will
have a nation!”

“Never,” Cody replied. “Not as long as you bomb airports, kill women and children, execute old men and women on airport runways,
and act like animals with no morals.”

Farouk shook his head. “We will win, because we are willing to die for our beliefs!”

“Depends how many of you there are to die,” Cody barked. He walked closer. At ten feet he stopped. “Chopper should be here
soon. Then I want you to put down that knife and act like a human being.”

Farouk snorted, looked away to the west, where he heard a chopper coming, then threw the knife like an expert.

The blade came point-first into Cody’s shirt front, jolted into the plastic back of the small radio and drove through it into
a mass of transistors and silicone chips and two heavy-duty batteries, where the blade stopped.

Cody pulled the blade away from the radio and looked up as Farouk surged upon him. He tried to knee him in the groin, then
his fingers of one hand tore at Cody’s eyes.

Half blinded, Cody struck out with his right hand, which held the Arab’s own knife. The still-sharp point drove hard into
flesh, and Farouk’s hand fell away from Cody’s eyes. Cody saw the knife driven deep into the Arab’s chest. The terrorist fell
into the sand on his back.

Farouk Hassan’s eyes closed and then opened.

“American, either the long sleep, or Allah’s eternal garden, I will know soon which it is to be. You will only wonder.” His
head rolled to the side and his eyes stared at the sand, but saw nothing.

Sharon Adamson stood with the passenger list she had kept folded in her skirt pocket, checking off each person on the list
as he or she entered the Israeli Chinooks. She had never been so glad to see a military helicopter in her life.

The Israeli were sharp, efficient, practical. They left four men from the first three choppers to serve as a backup security
force.

The six U.S. Marines had given their weapons to her and went back with the passengers. Two of the Marines were given first-aid
by Israeli medical corpsmen. She watched the third chopper lift off with the last of her passengers and crewmen. She said
she would come out in the next bird.

She had followed Cody’s chase across the desert as best she could by the radio reports. Now she waited for the chopper to
come back with Cody.

She hoped that he was still alive. She had set Mrs. Vereen’s body to one side. It would go out with the last load, along with
any of the terrorists Israel wanted. An officer had set up a small table outside the mansion and had been talking to each
of the Shiite captives. They had rounded up fourteen men, some of them so young they did not shave yet.

The Israeli captain came back to Sharon and smiled. He spoke perfect English.

“I’m convinced none of these people were more than backup forces for the hijacking. We don’t want to take them as prisoners.
It would serve no purpose. We’ll take all of their weapons, and any ammunition they had, then release them when we’re ready
to pull out.”

The
whup-whup-whup
of the big chopper crowded into the conversation and the bird landed on the LZ marked now with a staked-down plastic red
X.

Sharon ran to the door and met Cody when he stepped out. The medic on the plane had wrapped up Cody’s thigh bullet-hole, and
he was walking with only a slight limp.

She introduced Cody to the Israeli captain in charge of the pickup.

“We have the last of the former hostages well on their way to Haifa, with jet fighter protection,” the Israeli said. “No one
is going to try to interfere. We need another hour or so to clear up everything here, then we’ll be moving out.”

“Captain, I’m pleased to see you,” Cody said. “Sorry I couldn’t save one live terrorist for you. I should have had the leader,
Farouk Hassan, but he wanted to die.”

“Many of them are like that.” The captain paused. “We have enough sandwiches and coffee and Cokes to feed an army in that
next chopper down. Would you and the lady like to have a bite of breakfast?”

Cody suddenly realized that he hadn’t eaten in over thirty hours. He nodded, reached down and caught Sharon’s hand.

“I think I just heard chow call. Would an Army brat like you like to be served for a change instead of doing the serving?”

Sharon laughed and smiled. “I could stand a sandwich or two, now that you mention it. And I would die for a good cup of coffee.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

P
ete Lund smiled broadly as the President of the United States put down the phone. The President reached across the desk and
held out his hand.

“The last of the hostages is safely in Haifa. Cody’s Army pulled it off without losing a man, and the Israeli’s report no
casualties among their troops, pilots, or machines! Totally a beautiful, successful mission! Congratulations, Pete!”

“Thank you, Mr. President. I knew Cody could do it. He’s a valuable man to have around. What happened to General Johnson?”

The President grinned. “Well, I would think that he has found something more important to do than eat crow!”

They both laughed.

This was the first time Lund had ever been alone with the President of the United States, but he could not feel more relaxed
or comfortable.

“I’ll expect a full report by Cody within two or three days, Pete. From the looks of things now, I’d say that Cody’s Army
has more than met all proscribed objectives and tests on this mission. We took the hostages out without any more loss of life,
we did not get a bloody international nose for overkill, and we worked closely with the Israelis in getting their people out
as well. I don’t know what else we could ask for.”

“I’m sure John Cody and his men will be pleased, Mr. President. There is only one thing that I might suggest.”

The President looked up, with surprise. “More? What else could we expect of them?”

“It would be my expectation that now that the team has proved itself, that the men would be anxious to have another mission.”

The man smiled tiredly. “You tell Cody there will be more work for him and his men. There are always delicate problem-situations
like this where we can’t send in a platoon of Marines to do the job, like we did back in the 1920s and 1930s. Yes, indeed
there will be more missions.”

“The men will appreciate that, sir. I’ll go ahead and set up permanent quarters, then, at Andrews, so they will be close at
hand. If they do want to wander, I’d think a twenty-four-hour recall would be sufficient lead time for their reporting at
Andrews on future missions.”

“Good, good, Pete,” the Chief Executive nodded. “You take care of it. I don’t think we really need General Johnson in on these
discussions after this. He’s a fine man and does his job well, but in these cases, we will act without his counsel—but keep
him informed.”

“Is there anything else, then, sir?”

“We have some problems shaping up that have me worried, Pete, but we’ll discuss that in the future. Talk to my staff and set
up a weekly appointment on Monday mornings at ten. You’ll be on call through the Agency at any time, I would think, but let’s
get together here at ten each week on Monday and review hotspots.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of the details. Thank you sir, for getting Cody into action. I think we’re going to be calling on
him more and more.”

Cody watched the slender girl stow away her third tuna-fish sandwich and three cups of coffee. He chuckled. “Sharon, you were
hungry.”

“Pigging out. They never will believe any of this when I get go home to Ft. Lauderdale. Back there they remember me from the
high-school annual, where they said I would be the ‘girl most likely to succeed as a secretary.’ For a while I thought they
might be right.”

“Bring that coffee, I want you to meet the rest of our crew,” Cody said.

They went out of the big chopper to the steps of the mansion, where the Israeli captain was interviewing the last of the new
prisoners.

They watched as the stack of rifles, automatic weapons and new boxes of unpacked rifles, SMGs and cartons of ammo were carried
to the helicopters.

Rufe and Hawkeye sat on the steps. Caine had heard about the sandwiches and ran for the spread.

“Team, like you to meet Sharon Adamson, the spark plug who got the whole escape operation started by the hostages. She almost
had it wrapped up when we got here. Sharon, this ugly guy with the machine-gun finger is Hawkeye Hawkins, handy man to have
around.”

Hawkeye grinned, shook Sharon’s offered hand. “You ever want to change jobs, ma’am, we’ve got one more enlistment open in
our army,” the Texan drawled. “Pay is lousy, but the company is good.”

“Thank you, Hawkeye. I’m more of a flight attendant than a full-time commando, but thanks for the offer.”

“Sharon, this is Rufe Murphy, my entire air force. This guy can fly anything with wings and a motor—except a bumblebee—which
we know, scientifically, can’t fly anyway.”

Sharon held out her hand and it vanished in Rufe’s huge paw.

“Happy to meet you, Sharon. Hear tell about what you did to them terrorists. Way to go, gal! Just damn glad you on our side!”

“Thank you, Rufe, I appreciate that from one flyer to another. Have you ever flown four engines?”

“Sure have. Pushed around B-52s for a time, and then some passenger jets for an outfit out of Paris. Not the best for me,
though, just being a straight bus driver.”

Sharon laughed. “I’m sure all of the passengers and crew will want to see you and say thanks. All unofficial of course, because
we understand you four have not really, officially, been here at all. Still it would be great if you could come to the party
tonight in Haifa. You know that we never would have broken out of here by ourselves. We had seven rifles and one pistol, and
they had everything else and about sixty armed men.

“They probably would have killed us all before they were done. Abdel was crazy as a loon, blood-crazy. Farouk was a little
saner, but still a zealot. Tahia evidently lost her lover in Athens, so she didn’t care if she lived or died anymore. The
boy, Hallah was just that, a boy.”

The Israeli captain walked up and indicated he was finished. They had all the weapons and ammunition. He had sent about twenty
Lebanese survivors running down the trail toward the small town.

He brought out two American flags and had them draped over two plain wooden coffins they had brought from Haifa. Captain Ward’s
body had been found in the brush and cleaned up before he was put on the chopper.

Mrs. Vereen’s body was laid carefully in the second temporary coffin and carried on board.

Everyone stepped on the last chopper. Cody and his three men and Sharon stood there a moment more, staring at the huge mansion
that had been the site of such trauma in their lives.

Sharon would never forget it. She had grown up here, she had assumed command, become a leader. She would never back down to
anyone now.

Cody knew the President would be pleased. He had received a short radio message from Pete Lund expressing the Commander-in-Chief’s
views.

Sharon held out her hand. “I really don’t need any help to get in this bird, but it would be nice. Would you mind?” Cody helped
her inside, found her a soft place to sit down on big pads used to cushion fragile loads, and then dropped down beside her.

“We won’t be able to come to the party tonight,” Cody said. “We can’t risk the publicity. Some of the passengers are going
to talk. Tell them we were Australians; we just got caught up in a situation and had to fight our way out of it. Should fool
most of them. Remember, there was no official U.S. participation in this strictly Israeli operation.”

Sharon grinned. “I know that. We’ll miss you at the party. Most of our passengers say they will fly out tomorrow for Tel Aviv,
their original destination. I’ll be staying over a few days in Haifa to rest and get my head together. Will you be going right
back to the U.S.?”

“Not sure, Sharon. Don’t have any orders yet.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll be staying at the Hilton. If you are going to be around a couple of days, maybe we’ll see each other.”

“It would be nice to think so.”

Another hijacking in Lebanon.
This time Cody’s men were there…

The sequence was familiar Another jet hijacked to Lebanon. Once again America held hostage by fanatic rebels. And just to
prove they meant business the terrorists dragged two innocent passengers out on the tarmac and shot them in cold blood. That’s
when John Cody and his men got on the scene. Their mission was to free the hostages. But Cody wasn’t going to stop there.
This time he had to make sure it didn’t happen again. And there was only one way to do that. The hard way.