I wake to sound of my name being shouted out. The voice echoes across the lake and against the hills that surround this valley. I lift my head from the ground and immediately feel the sting from the lump on the back of my skull, the result of falling backward directly on top of an exposed rock.
Looking up, I shake away the cobwebs and make out Deputy Inspector Millen.
I sit up, slowly, achingly.
“‘Bout time the cavalry showed up,” I say.
He turns, issues a hand signal for his crew to stand down. He then takes a knee, resting his gloved hand on my thigh.
“You hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” My eyes are glued not on him but on the cave opening that is once more covered over by a stream-fed lake.
“We found Soleimani and Putin at the bottom of the hill in that wrecked Lan
