Larry Bond - Exit Plan

“Sounds like you had all the fun, Boss,” complained Phillips. “My shoulders are killing me from tugging this beast.”

“Rank does sometimes have its privileges, Petty Officer Phillips,” teased Ramey. Picking up his rifle, he took a quick look through his nightscope to get a better feel for their location. The island breakwater was less than ten meters away. Surprised, he exclaimed, “Damn! I didn’t think we were that close. We’d better move away from those rocks. Philly, grab the other oar.”

“Hold on,” Fazel interrupted abruptly. “We’ve got company. A boat’s coming in.”

Ramey reached for his weapon again. “Where, Doc?”

“Off the port beam.”

It took him a few seconds to sweep through the bearings, but Ramey soon had the boat in his sights. “Damn it! It’s a patrol boat! And he’s coming right at us! He’s probably going to use the southeast channel. We need to get on the other side of this breakwater, but keep us as close as possible.”

“Closer than we are now?” asked Phillips, as he dug his oar into the water.

“Yes, move us in so that we are just off the rocks.”

“Is that a good idea, sir?” Fazel was uneasy with Ramey’s chosen course of action.

“Think about it, Harry. Were at least a good hundred meters from the center of the channel. It’s so dark out, they won’t be able to see us. But if they have radar, which is highly likely, then our butts will be hanging in the air unless we can hide this bucket in the ground clutter of the breakwater.”

“Got it,” exclaimed the corpsman as he seized the other oar, and together with Phillips, began rowing the boat closer to the breakwater.

While Ramey kept track of the incoming patrol boat, the two enlisted SEALs pulled the boat to within an oar’s length of the breakwater’s base.

“It’s got an enclosed cabin, a standard nav radar, two outboard engines, and what looks like a 7.62-millimeter machine gun on a pintle mount forward,” Ramey whispered. “This guy could definitely be trouble. Let’s hope he berths at the same pier as the others.”

As the patrol boat entered the channel, it passed behind the breakwater and the SEALs lost sight of it. Ramey hustled over to Phillips and grabbed his oar. “Philly, get this puppy hot-wired ASAP. That boat’s engine noises will mask our startup, then steer southwest at slow speed.”

“Hooyah, Boss,” barked Phillips.

In less than a minute, the outboard whined as the starter motor cranked the dead engine to life. Suddenly, it caught and a low grumbling noise broke the silence. Ramey and Fazel then pushed the boat away from the rocks, and after making sure they were clear, Phillips advanced the throttle slightly. Slowly, the boat pulled away from Bandar Lengeh.

While Fazel stored the oars, Ramey shuffled up to the console. “Okay, Philly, keep us close to the coast, but not too close. And keep our speed down, but not too slow.”

With a look of irritation, Phillips replied, “Can you be a little more specific, Goldilocks?”

“Just drive the damn boat, will you?” countered Ramey. “We need to get back and pick up the others as fast as we can, but without getting spotted either from a patrol on land or a boat at sea. Capiche?”

“Yes, sir. I capichee.”

Ramey looked at his watch and grimaced. It was already twenty after four, and it would take close to another half hour to get back to the breakwater at Bandar Shenas. They were going to be very late, but hopefully, not too late.

8 April 2013

0430 Local Time/0130 Zulu

Breakwater at Bandar Shenas

The four Pasdaran soldiers walked in a loose formation toward the breakwater, and even though they were still sixty or seventy meters away, Jerry found himself holding his breath. The three of them had crawled to the very edge of the broken scrub; the Persian Gulf was less than a hundred meters to their right. The breakwater lay directly in front of them, not even two hundred meters away, across a nice soft, but very open, sandy beach. So close, yet so far.

“Are you serious?” hissed Lapointe.

“What’s wrong, Pointy?”

“They’re going out on to the breakwater, XO.”

Jerry quickly took a look through his scope. Lapointe was correct, the Pasdaran patrol had continued down the road and was now heading out onto the breakwater. “Oh crap! Now what do we do?”

“We follow them out,” Lapointe stated frankly.

“Come again?” Jerry was sure he didn’t hear him right.

“I said, we will follow them out onto the breakwater. It’s not like we have a lot of choices, sir.”

“Why can’t we just wait here for them to finish their job and leave?” “Because the other patrol, you know the one we’ve been watching all night, will come over that rise to the south soon. We don’t know exactly how far down the beach they’ll come. My guess from what we’ve seen is they’ll get close to the breakwater, if not right up to it. If we stayed we would be stuck here for far too long,” explained Lapointe. “It’s only about an hour till sunrise. We need to be on a boat and out to sea before then, preferably long before.”

Jerry felt like smacking himself, he’d forgotten about the other patrol. Finding themselves stuck between two groups of Pasdaran soldiers was an unpleasant thought, but he wasn’t thrilled with Lapointe’s idea either. “Can’t you radio Lieutenant Ramey and just have him swing by and pick us up here?”

“I don’t know where Mr. Ramey and the others are, XO. I’d have to crank up the power on the radio to ensure I reached him, and the odds of the transmission getting picked up by the Iranians is pretty damn good. By going out onto the breakwater, Matt will be able to see them, and us. He can initiate contact when he thinks it’s best to do so. Besides, I’d rather have those IRGC soldiers in a cross fire, than the other way around.”

Jerry hesitated. He tried weighing all the variables of the tactical situation, but none of the options looked any less risky or more likely to succeed than the other. He didn’t know what to do. This just wasn’t what he was trained for.

“XO, we don’t have a lot of time. You’re just going to have to trust me on this.” While respectful, Lapointe’s tone was firm. And it was the confidence in Lapointe’s voice that broke Jerry’s mental gridlock. SEALs are trained to handle these kinds of situations, and they train hard.

“Alright, Pointy, we do it your way. But getting over to the breakwater quickly isn’t going to be easy.”

A wiseass smirk flashed onto Lapointe’s face. “Well, you know, XO, the only easy day—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” interrupted Jerry, annoyed. “The only easy day was yesterday. I got it. I got it.”

“Then let’s do this. Just get me moving as fast as you can, XO. Don’t worry about my leg.” The LPO then turned to Shirin and said, “Dr. Naseri, we’re going for the breakwater. Just keep up.”

“I understand, Mr. Pointy.”

“Let’s move, people,” Lapointe commanded.

8 April 2013

0445 Local Time/0145 Zulu

At Sea, Near the Breakwater at Bandar Shenas

“You’re right, Doc. Those are not our guys,” remarked Ramey. They’d seen several flashlights earlier, but they couldn’t tell how many people were standing at the end of the breakwater until they got closer.

“My bet is they’re IRGC,” Fazel commented. “But where are Pointy and the others?”

“If I know Nate Lapointe, he’s nearby. Keep looking.”

“Ahh, Boss, there’s another group, right off the port bow, on the beach.” Fazel pointed in the general direction of the new contact.