The following story is a work of gay fiction. If the subject matter is offensive to you or you are too young, please exit now. This story is the property of the author and may not be reproduced without permission. John Tucker JETjt@aol.com
SUPER JEFF
Chapter Thirty-one
TYLER'S POV
The four large two-rotor choppers and a single rotor helicopter gunship skimmed the hills and valleys as they streaked through the night toward Damascus. I'm sure they must have installed terrain-following radar in the crafts to allow the high speeds that we were traveling in the dark. I understood too that the low altitude was flown to avoid early detection by Syrian radar. Aware that the borders were closely monitored, the flight to the city was by a circuitous route. I'm certain the Israelis knew all the Syrian radar stations as well, which would further explain the long flight path. I'm sure our return trip would be more direct.
After what seemed like forever it was announced that we were 15 minutes to our target. The assault team stood and checked each others' gear, running through a checklist they seemed to know by heart. I know they'd done the same thing before we left the base, but they went through the routine again. Perhaps it was a psychological maneuver by the officers to briefly take the soldiers' minds off the task ahead. Whatever the reason, when the announcement was made that we were 10 minutes out, they were finished. Through the windshields in front of the pilots we could see the lights of the city closing in and feel the chopper begin to slow down.
I could see the other helicopters flying beside us. Two were at a slightly higher altitude so I surmised that they were the ones that would assault the roof. The lone gunship led the way as we skimmed over the outskirts of the city. As we got nearer the gunship gained altitude and slowed allowing the assault choppers to pass underneath. Our aircraft was assigned to the hospital's main entry lobby while the second of our lower group took the emergency entrance. The two upper crafts had teams that would rappel down ropes to the hospital roof since the typical helipad on buildings was unable to support the dead weight of the large double rotor helicopters. After unloading their teams, they would join our helicopters on the ground. The gunship would remain aloft providing cover from any external assault. The rescue was planned to take 7 minutes.
As our craft began to settle to the ground our assault team stood in the aisle between the two bench-like seats that ran fore and aft along the sides of the machine. The machine gun crew of two had manned their positions at the side door when we had earlier crossed the border of Syria. Before the wheels touched the ground the large ramp at the rear began to lower. It was horizontal by the time the aircraft landed and continued to lower as the team charged the opening. The assault team split into two groups. The smaller of the groups, 6 men, fanned out to protect the exterior perimeter of the building and the helicopters while the larger group of 10 charged the lobby entry to secure the exits from the building. I took my position on the building side of the rear ramp. My semi-automatic Sniper's rifle was loaded and ready.
At first there was no noise that could be heard above the whine of the helicopter jet engines and the whirring of the rotors, as the two other transports joined our crafts already on the ground, then the rapid popping of assault rifles could be heard above the din of the aircraft. I glanced at my watch which I'd earlier set for a stopwatch function and then activated when the wheels touched down. 5 minutes had elapsed. Knowing that it would take about a minute to reload the craft for departure I watched the doorway expecting the assault team to begin emerging. The sound of gunfire increased. Most seemed to be coming from the upper floors, but some came from the emergency area where the other two helicopters had landed. Suddenly from above I heard the roar of the gunship's powerful machine gun, which was designed to automatically aim where the weapons officer was looking. I could hear automated fire coming from around us. I heard also a small explosion from the other side of the building.
I had been furnished with a hand-held walkie-talkie communicator, but had been instructed not to use it unless it was an emergency. Nevertheless, I could follow the communications between the assault teams. From what I could surmise, there was light resistance at Point Zero, which was the location of the rooms holding the Richards. Point one was a different matter. It was the unknown location of Osama Bin Laden which had to be found by using the homing beacons from the device that Dr. Richards had implanted during surgery. Six minutes had now passed and no sign of the assault teams. Suddenly, gunfire ripped through our chopper followed by the machine gun of the other helicopter firing. It had landed with its main gun away from the hospital to protect us from attack from the city.
Through the communication devices the assault team leaders were notified that the `zero rescue' team was exiting the upper floors and the team going after Bin Laden had been unable to complete their assault. Over the radio I heard Captain Yankovic order "execute plan tango 5". I knew that plan tango 5 was an order to throw explosive satchel charges as close as possible to Bin Laden's defenders, then to beat a hasty retreat to the helicopters.
Suddenly our gunner was hit and collapsed over his gun. His ammo feeder assistant was also wounded but was able to lay the gunner out on the floor away from the fire. Applying quickly bandages to his own wounds before attending to the gunner, he administered first aid to stop the flow of blood coming from two bullet holes in the gunner's body. Peering around the corner of the rear ramp opening, I saw an Al Qaida sniper firing from a second floor window. I got him in my sights and fired off three quick rounds. The firing stopped, but not before he'd placed two more shots into the pilots' cabin, injuring the pilot. Now shots began raining down on us from the building roof. The gunship was not with us as it was fighting off a ground attack on the other side of the building. I couldn't fire upwards for fear of hitting our aircraft's rotors. I moved quickly to the machine gun position which was between the rotors and searched with my night scope along the roofline. I saw muzzle flashes from three locations on the roof. I picked out the first one, found a target and fired off a round. I moved to the second and waited for the sniper to expose himself. I could see with my peripheral vision assault teams pouring out of the building heading back for the ships. In the center of the teams, I saw two gurneys being pushed rapidly along the paved walk, then lifted over the curbs and carried by four men toward the helicopters. The second sniper must have seen them too as he raised his arm to throw a grenade. It was what I was waiting for. As he drew his hand back he died with my bullet through is head. Seconds later the blast of the armed grenade flashed over the building's parapet, knocking small chunks of the building down on us. That blast was quickly followed by a much larger one from inside the building. Glass from the third floor windows rained down on the yard. I assumed that the larger explosion was from the Bin Laden team's satchel charges.
I sucked closely into the aircraft's open side to minimize my silhouette in the doorway. Looking for the other sniper I suddenly saw what we most feared. The third sniper had shouldered a rocket launcher and it was aimed downward toward our craft. Knowing there was no time for accuracy, I popped off a shot a bare second before I saw the flame blast from the missile. The rocket streaked down toward us but missed, hitting 50 feet beyond our craft. The inside assault teams as well as the gurneys were now within the aircraft. The six perimeter defense men were now racing toward the open stern. Suddenly another launcher appeared over the top of the building wall. This time I was ready and before he could pull the launch trigger he too was dead. The weapon fell over the side and bounced once before flipping toward the entry doorway, still armed and still intact. The entry door to the building suddenly burst open. Three men rushed out. Two spit spraying gunfire from their AK 47s toward the choppers. The third rushed for the rocket launcher. I fired at the two assault rifle wielding attackers, dropping them in their tracks. Moving to the third man I got him in my sights as he was picking up the long tube of the launcher. My weapon clicked. It was empty. Discarding the magazine on my rifle, I slipped a second one that I'd kept in reserve in my left hand into the slot. Pulling back on the cocking slide, a shell rammed into the chamber. I raised the rifle to my shoulder and popped off a quick shot at the man who was taking final aim at our machine. I must have shot high as a huge explosion from the weapon erupted, out of which danced the propellant end of the rocket cart-wheeling through the night sky. Having been distracted, I hadn't noticed the increased whine of the engines nor the swishing of the rotor blades as their speed increased. Suddenly the blades cut into the air and the aircraft lifted. As we cleared the top of the building wall I saw the stairway door to the roof flung open. I poured 6 shots into the opening and the door closed.
Our aircraft turned away from the building, tilting forward as it gained altitude. I looked out the side door from which I'd been firing and saw the other three transports and the gunship spread out in a loose formation. Gunfire was still being exchanged between the ground and the rising craft. I joined in the `giving end" from the rising choppers then moved away from the doorway as the targets disappeared behind us. Turning around I saw that a medic was now attending the serious wounds of our machine gunner and the flesh wound of his assistant. I then gave my attention to the two gurneys which were anchored between the rows of seats. I moved to the wheeled stretchers.
"Are they alive?" I asked a second soldier who was bent over Dr. Richards.
"Yes, we found them unconscious in their room. We grabbed two gurneys to put them on and strapped them down. There is no sign of injury so I have no idea why they're not conscious."
"No wounds at all?" I asked.
"No. They don't appear to be malnourished either. It makes what I found to be very strange."
"What was it?"
"They were hoarding food. I found a part of a meal wrapped in plastic in the doctor's pocket."
"Maybe Dr. Richards suspected poison. It would certainly explain him keeping a sample of their dinner," I hypothesized.
The medic seemed surprised at my supposition.
"That would explain a lot," he agreed.
"Keep the food sample," I said. "We need to get them to the nearest Israeli hospital that has a good lab."
"I'll talk to the pilot and he can request permission from Captain Yankovic," the medic said.
Sliding around the gurney he headed for the cockpit. After a few moments of heated discussion and some radio conversations, the pilot whose own injuries were leaking through a field dressing, ordered the co-pilot who was flying the craft to change course. I could see a lot of animated gestures and pointing at the dashboard instruments in the cockpit including the medic who suddenly appeared very excited. . The pilot quickly ordered him out of the pilots' area.
"Where are we now?" I asked when the medic returned to the gurney.
"About 20 kilometers from our border," he answered. "We should be back in Israeli airspace in 5 minutes. It will be none too quick for me," he added excitedly. "The pilot's radar shows Syrian jets on our tail!"
"How long will it be for them to catch us?" I asked.
"They'll be within missile range in 5 minutes," he answered. "The good news is that we have 5 Israeli F-15 jets two minutes away. If the Syrians fire on us they're dead meat."
We heard coughing and movement from the second gurney so we quickly moved there.
Dr. Richard's wife was squirming around struggling against the straps that held her secure to the gurney. Her eyes suddenly opened and she had a bewildered look on her face.
"Who are you? Where am I?" she asked.
"Second question first," I replied with a smile intended to comfort her. "You're on an Israeli helicopter headed from Syria to the nearest hospital in Israel. As for me, my name is Tyler Turner. Your son and daughter hired my security firm to discover your location and to rescue you. Fortunately, the Israelis agreed to do the rescuing part. They're damn good at it."
"Apparently," she replied. "How is Jeffrey?"
I assumed she was asking about her husband, not her son.
"He's unconscious and has not come around yet. We don't know the reason for your condition but we suspect poison."
"I think Jeff suspected that too," she answered. "He made me stick my fingers down my throat and expel my dinner. He only ate a little, I think for the guards' benefit, plus I think he was testing it out to see if he got a reaction."
"It must have been pretty powerful if he only ate a little," I commented.
"Yes, he secretly scooped some of his dinner into a plastic bag and stuck it in his pocket, just in case."
"We found it. It's what gave us the idea about it being poison."
"I guess he never got the chance to empty his stomach like I did," she theorized. "I was so dizzy I passed out in the bathroom."
"We found you in your bed," the medic reported. "He must have carried you. He was in his bed too, but it looked like he barely made it."
"What a dear," Mrs. Richards said gratefully. "I'll have to give him a reward for taking such good care of me."
"I'm sure he'll be delighted to receive it from such an attractive lady," I commented.
She blushed when she realized I understood what she was suggesting.
About that time we heard the Israeli jets streak by. I glanced out the window and saw them take a wide turn behind us to join us as escorts.
"Another problem out of the way," I reported to Mrs. Richards and the medic.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"It seems we had one or more Syrian Air Force jets closing in on us. Fortunately," I said nodding at the soldiers, "these guys brought their own combat jets. The Syrians won't dare bother us now."
Mrs. Richards smiled then frowned in obvious discomfort.
"Would you loosen these damned straps?" She said looking down at her bindings. "They're cutting off all my circulation."
The medic leaned over and removed the tension on the wide straps, but didn't remove them.
"We'll be landing soon," he explained. "We'll leave them on until we get to the hospital."
"Thank you young man, that's so much better," she said taking a deep breath. "I don't mind the straps so much but they were making it difficult to breathe."
"You'd better check Dr. Richards' straps too," I suggested to the medic. "He may need all the help he can get."
The medic nodded and went back to the gurney holding the doctor and loosened the wide bindings wrapped over the patient.
"I'd guess that Jeffrey never had time to empty his stomach," Mrs. Richards repeated. "We'd better get to a hospital in a hurry."
After we crossed the border, two of the transport choppers containing unwounded and soldiers with minor wounds, accompanied by the gunship, split off from the formation, making their own way back to the base near Tel Aviv. The four jets that were our escorts split into two groups of two and circled above each group of choppers as their lowest maneuverable speed was well above the 175 MPH speed of our helicopters. It wasn't long before the lights of a large city appeared ahead of the two troopships in our group.
"Where are we landing?" I asked the medic.
"Haifa, on the coast," he answered. "It's much closer than Tel Aviv."
The troopships began to descend from the higher altitude they'd risen to after crossing the border. In moments the ships landed and the rear ramps lowered. Outside, medical crews waited. The onboard soldiers who were only slightly injured or totally uninjured quickly exited the rotor craft even before the ramp was totally down. The ones who only needed minor help headed for the emergency room under their own steam. I assisted the medic I'd been working with to release the wheel locks and to roll the gurney carrying Dr. Richards into the hands of the hospital staff waiting at the bottom of the ramp.
"Go with Dr. Richards," I instructed the medic so that he could explain the poisoning of the doctor.
"I will," he agreed. "I have the food sample."
Waving a hospital orderly aboard, we quickly repeated the process with the gurney containing Mrs. Richards.
"The pilot and two more injured are still aboard," I yelled at the balance of the waiting medical team. The team maneuvering a rolling stretcher/gurney rushed up the ramp disappearing into the aircraft as the orderly and I pushed the gurney containing Mrs. Richards toward the Emergency Room doors. Once inside a triage team descended on us.
Deciding that Mrs. Richards' condition was not critical demanding immediate attention, they rolled her to a waiting area. I was told to be seated in a visitor's waiting room, but I shook my head no. I guess that seeing the sniper rifle in my hand convinced the nurse not to argue.
"How are Jeffy and Amanda?" Mrs. Richards asked as we waited together.
"They're fine and are in London anxious for a report from me, Mrs. Richards. I'll call them as soon as I know Dr. Richard's condition."
"Thank you, Mr. Turner," Mrs. Richards said with gratitude, "and please call me Mel."
"You're most welcome. I'm Tyler," I replied back. "Your kids are great young people, Mel."
"We think so," she said smiling.
After another 10 minutes of conversation, an orderly came to take Mel for treatment.
"I'll be here waiting for you," I promised. "I'll come and see you as soon as they'll let me."
"Find out about Jeffrey please," she asked.
"You can count on it," I committed.
It took about 20 minutes of nagging the hospital staff, but eventually a doctor appeared.
"Mr. Turner?" the doctor inquired.
"Yes, I'm Tyler Turner. Are you Dr. Richards' physician?"
"Yes, I'm leading the team treating him," he replied. "I'm Dr. Josef. What's your relationship with the patient?"
"My security firm was hired to locate him and to participate in his rescue." I answered. "My clients, Dr. and Mrs. Richards' son and daughter, are waiting in London for word of their rescue and condition. I need to call Jeff and Amanda as soon as their condition is known."
"Dr. Richards' food was laced with cyanide," he said convinced of my authenticity. "Fortunately he ingested very little of it, just enough to make him lose consciousness. If he'd have eaten even as much as the sample in the plastic bag, he'd have died. He'll be fine. As for Mrs. Richards, she was the one really lucky. According to her, she had eaten nearly all of her meal, but Dr. Richards made her expel the contents of her stomach immediately. If she hadn't she'd have never made it until the rescue team arrived, much less all the way here. They are both conscious now and are being transferred to a room for observation. If they are recovered this afternoon, they can be discharged."
"When can they have visitors?" I asked.
Probably in about a half-hour," he said. "They'll be put in the same room. The admitting clerk can give you the number in a short while."
"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Dr. Josef," I said with a genuine smile. "You're a life-saver."
"That's what I get paid for," he replied with a wink. "Now I must go. I still have other patients to attend to. Tell the Richards' children that their parents will be fine."
"I'll be most happy to Sir. Goodbye."
The physician turned and quickly disappeared through a doorway. I couldn't help wonder if he might have been on `our team.' It wasn't important I concluded and picked up my phone from it's holder on my uniform.
JEFF'S POV
In the morning we were up early, showering and doing our morning hygiene before grabbing a cup of coffee and a Danish. Afterward, we checked out of our rooms in Scotland and drove the small rental car to the airport in time to see the company's Learjet land. We unloaded our luggage, disposed of the car, then hauled our bags, including our golf equipment to the plane. From seemingly out of nowhere, two security guys showed up and placed their luggage beside ours. I had almost forgotten that they were with us. I could only surmise that Kayden had kept them continually informed of our plans, under orders from his father. They had certainly been unobtrusive during our trip. While the crew was stowing our gear into the baggage compartment we all climbed aboard the small jet. In mere minutes we were airborne and on our way back to London.
The trip was short and after landing we located the Jaguar and headed for the hotel in downtown London. My phone began ringing and I quickly snatched it from its holder.
"Jeff Richards," I announced into the small phone's microphone.
"Jeffy, it's Amanda," said the voice on the other end of the call. "We're back in London at the hotel. When will you be arriving?"
"Hang on," I said.
"Kay," I asked loudly "How long to the hotel?"
"About 20 more minutes, chap," he replied.
"20 minutes," I repeated into the phone.
"We'll meet you in the coffee shop off of the lobby," She suggested. "Just check in and send your things up to your room. Have you heard from Tyler?"
"Not yet," I reported. "I'm on pins and needles."
"We are too. See you soon."
"K. Bye Mandy."
"Later Jeff," she responded before the phone went dead.
When we got to the hotel, we had Kayden drop us off, then he and Terry parked in the hotel parking garage while Chris and I went in to dispose of the luggage and check in. By the time we were finished we saw Kayden entering the bar. We hurried and caught up with them just as they got to Amanda and Rick's table. We'd hardly had time to get seated and order our drinks when my phone rang.
"Hi this is Jeff," I answered.
"Jeff this is Tyler."
"Man, I'm glad you called. We've been anxiously waiting for your news. I'll put you on the speaker."
I pressed the speaker button and set my phone down on the table.
"Hi guys. Are you all in London?" He asked.
"Yes, we're sitting here at the bar in the hotel. Chris, and I, Mandy and Rick as well as Kayden and Terry are all here. Mandy and Rick got here a while ago and the rest of us just rolled in. We haven't even been to our rooms yet. What's the news on Mom and Dad?"
"They've been rescued," Tyler reported. "They were poisoned by Bin Laden's people, I'm sure with his knowledge, but are okay now. Your dad was suspicious so neither one had eaten enough for it to be fatal, though they were both unconscious when we found them."
"ALRIGHT!!" we all shouted slapping hands and knocking knuckles.
"Where are you? Still in Israel?" Mandy asked when the tumult had died down. .
"Yes, we're in Haifa which is on the coast in northern Israel. It was the closest city with an adequate hospital for your parents and the badly wounded."
"Were there any casualties?" Rick asked.
"Not on our side that I know about," Tyler answered. "There are several with serious wounds though. The machine gunner on the helicopter I was on was hurt pretty bad and the pilot and assistant gunner received minor wounds."
"You went with them?" I asked in surprise.
"Yes, Gary Franklin, my Chief from Atlanta and I both went on the aircraft as sharp shooters. I think I took out about a half-dozen of the Al Qaida, myself. Gary was on another chopper that landed on the other side of the hospital. I haven't talked to him yet since he was on one of the helicopters that went on to Tel Aviv."
"When are Mom and Dad going to be released?" Amanda queried.
"Either this afternoon or in the morning," Tyler hedged. "I flew over to Tel Aviv on a commercial airliner from Athens to avoid attention. I'll call and have my plane fly here to coincide with your parents' release from the hospital. We'll fly back to Tel Aviv to pick up my clothes and passport. I'm sure the Israelis will want to debrief us all too, especially your parents. I figure we'll fly back to London day-after-tomorrow."
"That's great," I said." If there's a big delay we'll come to Israel. We can't wait to see Mom and Dad."
"It's best that you stay there," Tyler suggested. "I'll call you if there is a big delay though."
"That's fair," I said. "Have you seen Mom and Dad yet?"
"No, they're putting them just now in a room for observation," Tyler explained. "I'll see them very soon. In the meantime, I need to make some other calls."
"When you see them, ask them to call us," Amanda requested. "We'll keep the satellite phones you gave us on our person at all times."
"I'll do that," Tyler promised. "Now I really have to go. Expect a call from your folks soon. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," we all echoed before the phone went dead.
"Here's a toast to Mom and Dad," I said raising my glass.
"And for Tyler Turner too," Amanda added as her glass joined the others, clinking together at the end of raised arms.
We all took a drink and drained our glasses.
"Now I'd suggest some lunch," Rick said looking at his watch. "If we stick together for a while, maybe you can both talk to your parents while we're all in the same place.
"Capital suggestion," I said scooting out of the booth where we were sitting. "I've gotta pee first."
"I'll take care of the cheque," Kayden offered. "Jeff you can buy lunch."
"My pleasure, my friend, my pleasure," I said as I headed off to relieve my aching bladder.
TYLER'S POV
I made the phone calls necessary to get our jet on standby for its flight to Haifa, called Reggie in London, called Ron and Dan in Las Vegas and talked to Col. Krackenhauer in Tel Aviv. The plans were set so that we could leave for Tel Aviv as soon as the doctor released Mel and Dr. Jeff. No sooner had I finished than an orderly appeared, announcing that the patients could now receive visitors, gave me their room number and pointed out the elevator location. I thanked him, then headed off for my visit.
Entering their room I saw both patients sitting up in bed chatting.
"Jeffrey," Mel said. "I'd like you to meet Tyler Turner. He's largely responsible for our rescue."
"It's a pleasure," the doctor said as I approached his bed and I took the hand he offered. "Please call me Jeff or if you'd rather Dr. Jeff."
"I'm pleased to see you awake," I said with a smile. "You gave us a scare."
"I gave myself a scare," he admitted. "From what I've been told it was a close call. I sincerely thank you for all you've done."
"You're most welcome Sir. There are a lot of people to thank besides me though," I replied. "Your son and daughter have been great through this whole thing. In fact it was Jeff that discovered the ruse that you'd not been killed in England."
"Everyone thought we were dead?" he asked.
"Yes, the Al Qaida agents murdered a couple about your age and placed their bodies in your car, setting it on fire. Your credit card was found damaged but still traceable in the car leading the police to assume that the bodies were yours. The jewelry, watch and other personal effects were sent to Jeffrey who discovered that they weren't yours. He had hired my firm by that time and he reported his discovery. We immediately notified Scotland Yard and the results of the forensic tests confirmed his suspicion. It was a diversion to spirit you out of England before the truth was discovered. Unfortunately it worked. With a lot of cooperation between Scotland Yard, Interpol and our own Homeland Security, we were able to trace the flight of the jet that took you to Syria. We later got a lead on the kidnappers when Bin Laden went to Marseilles for his testing. He slipped away before he could be apprehended but we were able to get a copy of the test results so we knew the nature of his condition."
"Your attorney has been on top of the whole situation too," I continued. "Of course we can't forget the Israelis who pulled off the rescue. We were prepared to attempt the rescue privately, but it would have taken another week to get ready. Fortunately they had the will, experience and training to pull it off very quickly."
"Yes," Dr. Jeff said. "I'm sure that if you hadn't arrived when you did you would have found us dead. Even if their attempt at poisoning failed, I'm sure they would have finished the job in a more `professional' but messy manner. What was our government doing in the meantime?"
"Quite honestly Jeff, we were afraid to let them in on our plans. We were concerned that they might `smart bomb' the hospital if they knew that Bin Laden was inside. We were afraid of their priorities. I'm sure we'll catch hell for it when we return, but they can't say much because the Israelis are allies and have a lot of support in the U.S. I know they want Bin Laden with a passion and we couldn't take the risk."
"I suspect that was a wise decision," Dr. Jeff concurred. "What happened to Bin Laden?"
"The Israelis had a team that went after him. He was heavily defended and they were unsuccessful in breaking thorough to him. There was a possibility he'd already escaped too, so it wasn't worth risking success in getting you out just to make sure he was captured or dead. The team tossed a couple of powerful satchel charges into the midst of his defenders. If he was inside the room nearby, it's possible that he was killed too. I'm only telling you what I could make out over the radio. We'll find out more when we go to Tel Aviv this afternoon."
"Tel Aviv?" Mel asked. "Why are we going there?"
"The rescue was executed from a military base near Tel Aviv. I need to go back and get my personal things including my passport. We also owe the Israelis the chance to debrief us. I'm sure they'll have questions for you about Bin Laden."
"That seems fair," Dr. Jeff agreed. "I can see I'm going to have to make a sizable contribution to the Jewish National Fund when we get home too."
"What is that?" Mel asked.
"It's a fund to make improvements in Israel. None of the money goes to the military. It's sometimes jokingly referred to as the Jewish Tree Fund, since a good bit of money has been spent on trees and other natural improvements. It's somewhat a misnomer though; they also spend money on wells, irrigation projects and other things besides just plants."
"It's certain that we owe them," Mel agreed. "I don't know a better way to help."
"I'm sure that they'll accept and use all the help they can get, even from Gentiles." I said with a grin. "The Turner Companies have found a way to economically desalinate sea water. One of the first plants we'll build abroad will be in Israel."
"I'm sure we can't afford a whole plant," Dr. Jeff commented, "but we could sure make a sizeable contribution."
"That I'm sure they'll appreciate," I said in confirmation.
"Mel said that Jeff and Amanda are in London?" Dr. Jeff asked.
"Yes, they're there with Chris and Rick."
"Oh yes! How is Chris doing?"
"He's great, and according to Jeff his golf game is really improving. It would be better except for the three weeks they took out of the summer to be camp counselors."
"Our Jeff was a camp counselor?" Mel asked in shock.
"Yes, from what he told us, Chris talked him into it. They both enjoyed the experience."
"I knew that Chris was a good boy, but now I'm really impressed," Dr. Jeff commented.
"Yes, I think you'll find both of them changed quite a bit, but from what Jeff has told me, you'll find Amanda changed more."
"I hope so," Mel said. "She's always been our difficult child."
"You'll find that she's turned into a delightful young woman," I said. "I think Rick Forbes is the reason."
"They're a couple?" Dr. Jeff asked.
"Yes, though I probably shouldn't be the one to say so. I'm sure you'll like him."
"If he's made Amanda into a human being, then I'm sure we'll love him," Mel commented.
"Did the doctor say when you could be released?" I asked. "I need to get our jet over here from Athens."
"He said it would be early this afternoon," Dr. Jeff replied.
"Then I'd better get them in the air," I responded. "I'd like to check on the condition of the wounded soldiers too. I'll be back in a while," I promised.
"Thank you Mr. Turner," Dr. Jeff said.
"It's Tyler, Jeff. I have a suspicion that we're going to be good friends. Oh, by the way, Jeff and Amanda would like you to call them. You can use my satellite phone," I said as I called up the speed dial to Jeff's phone and pressed send. When I handed the phone to Dr. Richards I said simply, "See you later."
"Later Tyler," Dr. Jeff said with a smile as he pressed the small phone up against his ear.