Chapters : Confessions of a Military/CIA Retiree

A Red Chinese gunboat had moved alongside, and was securing forward lines. The officers of our ship and the Commies were having a heated discussion.  Sub-machine guns were visible.  “What is it, pirates?” asked Jonny. “Worse.” I said.  “You get back to the cabin, now!”  Some of the “pirates” pushed through small groups of travelers. Others went below.  Still others started a cabin search. I hadn’t expected that.  They seemed to know exactly what they were after, but I didn’t.

I hurried to the cabin to get Jonny back on deck.  It was empty.  There suddenly seemed to be a mini riot on the bridge.  The walkway again held a mob of frightened tourists; I had trouble getting through them.  I finally squeezed past, and there was Jonny.  “Kirk!  They took somebody!” she yelled. “He was kicking and hollering, but they took him!”  I couldn’t have cared less.  “Are you all right?” I shouted.  “Oh sure, ...they didn’t bother me, but that poor Chinese ... they tied his hands ... one hand didn’t even have any fingers.” she said, a little breathless.  “Jonny ... wait ... did the guy have maybe one finger?”  I asked.  She said, “Yes, that’s right, just one!”  I pressed, “Guy about sixty, and a tattoo maybe ... on the same hand?”  “I think he did...yes...,” she started.  I couldn’t quit. “And a large ring on the one finger?”  “Oh, I don’t know... how did you ...?”  “Never mind, it’s not really important,” I lied.  I remembered that it was his suggestion to see Macao. What am I into here? We watched the gunboat pull away; the mysterious Mr. “C” was not in sight.

I tried to piece it together.  He was still following me.  Why?  Because I might have noticed the other guy’s tattoo?  A long shot.  And, if I had, fear that I might mention it to ... no ... he didn’t even know that I was connected with the Embassy until he saw me at the party.  And when he did see me there, the eyes told me that he knew I recognized him.  Maybe he thought that I hadn’t said anything to anyone about him yet. Maybe ... oh, forget it.  But I remembered Simmon’s comment of, “Watch your back”. 

We were still outside the building when a car pulled up at the end of the wide road. Blinding headlights froze us to the middle of the street. The paralysis was short-lived, and Matt and I took off at full tilt as squealing tires launched the vehicle right at us. The car came to within thirty feet, and surprisingly, swerved away. Another car had pulled up in front of us from another direction. We stopped. The door flew open, and black clad men jumped out. So did John Campbell. He was as surprised at seeing us as we were at seeing him.  We were dead! He was barking orders......in Hebrew!  We weren’t dead! He ignored us. Some of  the commandos answered him, calling him ‘colonel’ (Colonel?), and running in the direction of  the building. Yet another car intercepted the one that chased us. There was automatic fire on the street, and on the second floor of the building. Lina screamed at us, “Get in! Get in!” We did, as an explosion rocked the second floor. One black-clad commando joined us in the crowded car, as we took off. We slowed at the Corniche Mazraa, and Lina quickly got out. Not a word of explanation from anyone. We headed at top speed toward the airport, no,...a different road  headed south. We could hear sirens everywhere. There were flames shooting skyward in the Sabra camp. John said nothing. Neither  did we. We were on the coast road just past the airport when another car caught up with us. They were racing with us, not at us. Four other vehicles were waiting on the beach. The men were pushing rafts into the water. A boat or a submarine was waiting for them just off the coast. John turned and said, “The car is yours if you want. Victory!” And he was gone into the black night. The car I noticed was the one he had rented. Matt and I agreed that it would really be stupid to drive anywhere in that car. Three of the cars were still idling. We decided to walk. And we walked, in the dark, we walked. For miles. We cut across some rough country to reach the airport road, (and to avoid all of the dozens of military vehicles).  At a number of places, we elected to stop and wait.