On the run, Northeast of BaalbekT
he helicopter cruising in a search pattern over the foothills was a Lebanese Air Force Puma. Shake could see the roundel on the tail boom and a crewman hanging out the side door as the aircraft clattered away to look at higher ground to the east of them. The woman tucked in tightly next to him under a large rock cliff looked up and muttered something in a language that didn’t sound like Arabic but was no more understandable. Shake had never been very good with foreign languages—or with English either, he thought regretfully.
So far with the woman sitting next to him he was able to make himself understood by pantomime or pictures scrawled in the dirt. While they hid from the helicopter, he’d managed through a series of point-and-repeat drills to let the w
