Their plane had immediately dusted off, not even waiting for a refuel – armed men in jeeps had chased it down the runway. It would take on more fuel in Israel, and then continue home. The airport was too unstable for it to stay, and the team knew that getting back stateside would mean they’d need to travel by another route. The expedition’s return plan now was for them to make it across Turkish border – A few days, my ass, Matt thought. Lucky he didn’t have any houseplants.

Matt leaned forward to the driver and spoke in rapid Syrian; he grunted, nodded and then spoke out of the side of his mouth, keeping his eyes on the partly obliterated road and the groups of sullen-looking men patrolling the streets.

“Shou-Kran.” Matt wedged himself back in between Andy and the SEAL Rick Berry, who took up most of the seat, and, like Hartogg in front, never took his eyes off the streetscape.

“Bashnatrah,” Matt said, and half turned to Abrams and Tania seated behind him.

“That’s right: Bashnatrah,” Abrams said, also keeping a close watch on the passing street.

“It lies on an ancient merchant caravan route between Aleppo and the Mediterranean. Mostly cultivated farming land, and one of the few towns as yet untouched by the civil war. It’s where we’ll find the summer place of our contact.”

“Doctor Hussein ben Albadi,” Matt said.

“Ah…he is honorable, good man,” the driver said over his shoulder.

“An honorable man.” Abrams nodded. “Good.”

Once past the city perimeter, the driver became a little more relaxed – there was less debris, fewer bands of watchful soldiers or rebels – but still the SEALS kept their weapons ready.

“Slow down,” Hartogg said.

The driver turned and frowned at him, but shrugged and then eased back a little. Andy looked out at the near empty landscape, seeing nothing. “Expecting trouble?” he asked.

“Always,” Berry said from next to Matt.

“IEDs,” Abrams said from behind them.

“Great,” Matt whispered. Improvised Explosive Devices, or IEDs, were one of the deadliest creations of modern Middle Eastern warfare. They’d started as little more than buried mines, but as those taking defensive measures became better able to deal with the simple explosives, then so too did the bomb builders adapt. The IEDs became more sophisticated, making use of professional concealment techniques, armor-piercing shells, remote or automatic detonations and pressure or motion detection. The big ones could easily take out an armored troop carrier. Matt gripped the seat back. To a flimsy minivan, they’d spell total obliteration.

“Not Syrian.” The driver slowed even more. He turned, his face furious. “No Syrian would make this type of war.”

Abrams leaned forward to look past Matt and Berry through the windscreen. “That’s the problem – a lot of militias now, crime gangs, and foreign fighters who hate everything and everyone.”

“Al-Qaida, ISIL,” the driver said. “Cut off heads.”

Andy snorted. “Did I thank you for inviting me yet?”

Tania leaned forward to pat Matt and Andy’s shoulders. “Don’t worry boys, stay close and I’ll protect you.”