by Brad Carlson
“Nightwatch, how we situated for CAS?” Stonewall radioed.
“Ghostrider’s still on station. We’ve also got a few Apaches, Hogs and some Bones.”
“Okay, Nightwatch, we’re about seven hundred meters from you. We’re on the corner of Highway 6 and The 23rd of February Street. We’re in a two story house with bandits in the rest of the buildings around us. There’s a seven story apartment building northwest of us which you can probably see, then there’s a three story building immediately to our west and a two story complex immediately north of us. We’re taking fire from all three buildings—the RPGs are coming in thick has hail!”
“How far are you from these buildings?”
“Thirty meters, give or take. Go with five hundred pound JDAMs. Attack from the northwest. My initials are T J—Tango Juliet—if needed.”
“Roger that, be right back,” Nightwatch replied.
“Arielle, how’s Monty?”
“Not good. The RPG almost took off both of his legs. I’ve got tourniquets on each and we’ll need to carry him. Needs a doc, pronto.”
“Okay, we’ve got inbound air support that’ll be taking down the buildings in front and beside us across the street. That should eliminate the immediate threat. We need to hunker down.”
“What are they using?” Arielle asked.
“Mark 82s.”
“Got a couple extra helmets?” Colonel Marshall asked when she heard this.
“What’s this?” Secretary Johnson asked.
“We’ve got an ISIS force between us and the rest of our team back at the hotel you were at,” Arielle began. “Rather than fight our way through, we’re going to drop a number of five hundred pound bombs on them but we’re a little too close to the target.”
“How close is ‘too close’?”
“Couple hundred yards,” Arielle replied.
“And we’re how close?” Johnson asked.
“About thirty,” Stonewall said as he handed them both the helmets, ear protection and the flak jackets the deceased SEALs had been wearing. “We’re behind a concrete-walled building so as long as the bombs are on target, we should be fine.”
“Chaos, Nightwatch. The Bone pilot wants confirmation from you. Her call sign is Bengal Six.”
“Roger that, Nightwatch.”
“Bengal Six, Chaos.”
“Chaos, Bengal Six. Please confirm your fire mission. Six JDAM Mark 82s, Danger Close,” the commanding officer of the 37th Bomb Squadron replied. She didn’t make the customary request for the commanding officer’s initials as she fully recognized her brother’s voice over the radio.
“Bengal Six, that’s confirmed.”
“Very well, Chaos. Bombs away. Keep your head down.”
“Everybody down!” Chaos ordered as everyone crawled under the nearest solid object, many of them crouching right up against the stone walls on the near side of where the bombs would be dropped. Seconds later, the entire world erupted around them. The ground shook as if a major earth quake had just struck. Debris from the destroyed buildings rained down on the house collapsing the roof and ceiling of the structure, completely burying several of them. Once the noise of the falling debris subsided, the cries of help could be heard, some clearly in pain.
“Everybody okay?” Stonewall asked as he began digging through the debris from the collapsed ceiling. Arielle had been with Secretary Johnson and Colonel Marshall and a beam from the ceiling lay on top of them.
“Stonewall, can you help get this stuff off of us?” Arielle asked as she tried lifting it off of them by herself.
“Just a sec. I need to clear some of this stuff away. Okay, here we go.”
“Aw, Jeez, that hurts,” Secretary Johnson cried out as they lifted the beam off of her. “I think I’ve got a broken leg.”
Once they had the beam completely removed the fracture to her lower right leg was readily apparent. Arielle and Moose quickly placed a SAM splint on her leg and hit her up with a dose of ketamine.
“Arielle, do you have any water?” Secretary Johnson asked.
“Here ya go, ma’am,” Moose replied.
“Thanks, Moose,” Johnson replied as she took a long swig from the canteen and then dumped most of the rest of it over her face and head.
“Anybody else hurt?” Chaos asked.
“Nothing but a few bruises over here,” Falcon said.
“Okay, Madam Secretary, we need to move as soon as you’re able.”
“We’re going to have to carry her,” Arielle said to Stonewall. “We don’t have a litter.”
“Madam Secretary, we need to get out of here. I’m going to carry you on my back until we meet up with the truck.”
“You mean you’re giving me a piggyback ride,” she asked with a bit of a grin “with my bare ass hanging out for all to see?”
“That’s about the size of it, ma’am.”
“Okay, Colonel, just trying to get the mental picture of it. Let’s do this. This leg really hurts and I’ve already lost all sense of modesty as it is. I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Bengal Six, Chaos, nice work! We’re on the move.”
“Happy to oblige, Chaos.”
“Viking Two-Six, Chaos. We’re on foot crawling over the rubble. Send the last truck this way to pick us up. Take the rest of the team and head up towards the air strip. We’ll pick up everyone that won’t fit in LAVs as we meet up with them.”
“Truck’s on the way. One minute out.”
“Cougar, Chaos. Time to get your team out of here. We’ll be out’a here real soon, ourselves.”
“Roger that, Chaos. Shouldn’t take us too long. We’ve made sure that no one’s crossing the river so we should be okay.”
“Very good, Cougar. Thanks for the assist with this.”
XLI
Mahdi Flight, 26°46’N x 48°23’E
7:58 PM Local Time
“Mahdi flight, execute turn.” And with that, the entire flight took a new heading of two-nine-six degrees.
“Mahdis. Fuel check. Let’s get all of you topped off.”
“Roger that,” came the eight replies. And with that, the F-16s loaded with the B-61 nuclear bombs topped off their fuel tanks. The remaining fuel in the tankers went to their fighter escort. Once the refueling had been completed, the entire fleet climbed to an altitude of 43,000’ and increased their speed to Mach one.
“Ma’am, we just received another transmission from this ‘Mahdi’ flight. Sounds like they’re making their final refueling for the flight.”
“Any idea where they’re at?”
“Negative, we’ve got nothing on radar but their communications are coming in loud and clear. We first herd them twenty-five minutes ago when we were up here,” the communications sergeant pointed to his plot on the map. “Now, we’ve been on a heading of two-two-zero for close to fifteen minutes—heading away from that previous comm intercept and they’re still coming in five by five. We’re on the right track, ma’am. Archangel wanted us southwest of Baghdad. We might want to step on it.”
“Agreed, sergeant. I’ll tell the pilot to firewall it.”
The race was on, though only one side knew of the contest, and the prize.
Raqqa, Syria
8:01 PM Local Time
“Nightwatch, what are you doing here?” Chaos asked as their ride showed up just past the rubble caused by the bombing from Bengal Six. “Thought you’d be with the rest of the team heading up to the air strip.”
“Yeah, well, I figured that you might appreciate a controller in your group since we’re separated from everyone else at this point. You know, just in case something unexpected happens.”
“Right, ‘cause something unexpected never happens,” Arielle added sarcastically. “Glad to see you, Nightwatch.”
“You, too, Arielle.”
“Any sign of trouble on the way down here?” Chaos asked.
“Nothing when I left but this place is just swarming with bad guys. At least it’s da
rk out so if we can get past the intersection at the Odessa hotel we should be fine. We’ve got two major streets running parallel to this one just a few blocks over so we could have an ISIS force on top of us up there before we know it.”
“Chaos, this is Ghostrider. Looks like you’ve got a welcoming party a few blocks ahead of you up at the Odessa Hotel. We’re going to try and break up that party for you before you get there. Keep your heads down.”
“Roger that, Ghostrider. Also, there’s two streets running parallel just to the west of us—we need those completely cut so no one can get through.”
“Gotcha Chaos. Ready for some fireworks?”
“Fire at will, Ghostrider.”
Seconds later, the intersection a couple hundred yards ahead of them erupted from multiple blasts from Ghostrider’s 105mm canon.
“Nice work, Ghostrider,” Chaos said. “Looks like our immediate problem’s out of the way. Thanks for the assist.”
“Not a problem, Chaos. That’s what were here for. Be advised, Bengal’s dropping the JDAMs as requested. These should take care of the alternate routes you mentioned. Okay, you’ve got two major intersections left to get by and both of them are starting to draw a crowd. It seems like you’ve stirred up a bit of a hornets nest down there.”
Even though it was dark, every ISIS fighter in the neighborhood could hear the truck coming. By the time they reached the Odessa Hotel intersection, every tire had been flattened by ISIS fire. With the truck now running on the rims, sparks shot out from every rim leaving a trail of sparks that not only lit up the night but also set fire to some of the debris scattered along the street.
“Ghostrider, go ahead and do what you can to close every street leading towards Highway 6. If it takes Bengal’s complete inventory to close every street and road that intersects with it, do it.”
“Roger that, Chaos.”
“Viking Actual, Chaos. How’re we looking up there?”
“Chaos, right now it’s relatively quiet. We can hear all of the firing coming from your direction but we haven’t seen much ourselves. I don’t expect it to stay that way for long, based on the volume of fire coming from your direction. Conti just showed up with his team. We’re simply waiting on your group right now.”
“We’re on the way. Just reached the Odessa Hotel so we’re only about a mile out. Go ahead and get team three out of here along with all but one of the Hercs. That’ll leave just Conti’s team two and the team with us. Ghostrider just told us that we might have a little excitement reaching you guys but we should be able to fight our way out of it—if not, we shouldn’t need more than the extra team with Ghostrider providing the top cover for us.”
“Roger that, releasing all but one of the Odin flights,” Commander Edberg replied. “See you in a few.”
“Nightwatch, how we looking?” Chaos asked his controller.
“I think we can fight our way through the first intersection but Ghostrider’s advising the second one’s looking a bit dicey. That intersection’s still more than half a mile from the airstrip so I don’t want an airstrike there if we can help it. I’ve had some Apaches clearing the way for us but it’s a mess up there. I don’t want to block or crater the street as we’d be on foot the rest of the way.”
“Colonel, Madam Secretary, we need you to stay down,” Arielle told both women. “It might get a little hot here in a second.”
“Bullsh—umph!” Colonel Marshall began when an ISIS round hit the chest plate of her body armor. “Ah, that hurt. As I was about to say, I’m a lieutenant colonel. Give me a damned weapon to shoot back!”
“Here ya go, Colonel,” Arielle said as she handed an M-4 to her, along with several spare magazines. Marshall immediately checked the existing magazine and charged the weapon. She had clearly used one before. “All set?” Arielle asked the colonel as she tightened her ponytail.
“All set, Arielle. Let’s do this!”
“Ma’am, I need you to curl up as best you can on the floor underneath me,” Stonewall told Secretary Johnson. “This shouldn’t last long, but it’s going to be intense.”
“Okay, ready when you are.”
“Nightwatch, any Apaches left for CAS?” Chaos asked.
“That’s a negative. They’re all Winchester. We’ve used every one of them. We’ve got the Bengal flight, a few Hogs and Ghostrider. We still have plenty of firepower available.”
“Okay, I want two strafing runs from the Hogs with their cannons sweeping each side of the street ahead of us. We’ll follow just as soon as the second run is completed.”
“Calling it in,” Nightwatch replied.
“Viking we’re approaching the first intersection. We’ve got a couple Hogs making a strafing run and we’ll be right behind them.”
“Roger that, let me know if you’ll need any help.”
No sooner had Viking replied to Chaos than the sound of an enormous zipper once again erupted directly overhead of the American team. Not five seconds later, a second stream of tracers erupted from the second Warthog just a few hundred feet above them. The first couple floors of every building on each side of the street had been completely decimated. Absolutely no one could survive the onslaught of the thirty millimeter cannon fire. However, in the dark, no one could tell that several buildings along the route had five and six stories.
“Okay, let’s go!” Chaos ordered the driver.
“Viking, we just passed the first intersection. Sixty seconds out.”
“Roger that. I’ll start loading up!”
“Okay, here’s the second inter—AH! SHIT!!!” Stonewall howled out as an ISIS team suddenly sprayed the truck down with a barrage of automatic weapons fire from the fifth and sixth floors of the apartment building directly above them. Most took rounds in the body armor including Arielle, Marshall, Falcon, and Nightwatch. The front of the truck received the greatest concentration of fire, killing the driver and, since Stonewall had positioned himself directly behind the driver, he got hit as well. The truck quickly veered off the street and came to an abrupt stop after striking the front of an apartment complex.
Arielle heard Stonewall’s cry first; the sudden stop quickly threw her on top of Secretary Johnson. “Moose, get us out of here,” she ordered. Moose immediately jumped out of the back of the truck and pushed the driver out of the way to get the truck back on the street.
“Ghostrider, Arielle. Chaos is down. We need an immediate strafing run on the building directly above us. Take out the upper floors, both sides of the street. Danger Close, my initials are D Y—Delta Yankee—HOSE IT DOWN!!!” she ordered as she quickly tended to Stonewall. She already had his pant leg completely torn open at the knee revealing a lower leg that had just been shredded. The bullet, coming down from the sixth floor of the apartment above them, struck the back of the knee, hit and broke the large calf bone, traveled down the calf and exited at the ankle, breaking the ankle as it exited.
“Roger that, Arielle. Keep your heads down.”
“Ahh! Jeez, that hurts!” Stonewall howled.
“Hold still! I need to get a tourniquet on you. Your leg’s a bloody mess! It looks like you’ve either taken several rounds to the calf or one nasty one that completely shredded your leg. This is going to hurt like hell but I need to try and bandage it,” she added as she gave him a dose of ketamine.
“Moose, we’ve got more strafing runs coming just above us,” Arielle hollered as the SEAL began backing the truck away from the building.
“Roger that. I’ll try to dodge anything that falls our way!”
“Viking, Arielle. Chaos is down. We ran into a buzz saw. We’ve got more people hurt than people to tend to them. Have your medic ready when we get there—we’re going to need some help. We’re back on the street,” she continued as Ghostrider’s thirty millimeter Gatling gun unleashed a steady barrage interrupting her transmission, “and should be there in a minute or two. Be prepared for a hot evac.”
“Roger that, Arielle. We’ll be standing by.�
��
“How ya doin’?” Arielle asked Stonewall, her concern very obvious.
“Hurts like hell. This really hurts. How’s everyone else?”
“We’ve got multiple wounded. I think half a dozen of us got hit with that last barrage but we’re almost out of here.”
“The Secretary?”
“She’s fine. Looks like that round you took might have hit her had you not been covering her. Hold still. Your leg’s been shattered so we need to splint it,” Arielle added as she prepared the SAM splint.
“Falcon, I’m going to need some help here,” Arielle ordered. “When I lift his leg, I need you to set the splints.”
“Okay, Stonewall, ready on three, two . . . now!”
“Ahh!!!!” Stonewall hollered.
“Moose, how we doing?” Arielle asked.
“The plane’s in sight and looks ready to go.”
“Viking, we have you in sight,” Arielle radioed. “We’re going to need some help with our wounded and casualties.”
“I see you. We’re ready when you get here.”
“Archangel, Arielle.”
“Arielle, Archangel here, go ahead.”
“Archangel, we’re at the evac site and have several wounded needing immediate medical attention. Requesting immediate divergence to Al-Asad air base.”
“Understood, Arielle. What’s the status of Secretary Johnson and Colonel Marshall? Any idea as to the number of wounded?”
“The Secretary’s got a broken leg. Colonel Marshall’s relatively fine, though she took a beating before we got to her. She’s got a broken nose and probably some broken ribs but nothing too severe. We have about a dozen others needing attention with a couple critical.”
“Understood . . . and Chaos?
“He’s taken at least one round in the knee, possibly a couple more in the lower leg. It’s hard to tell. His leg is pretty mangled and he’s lost a lot of blood.”
“Roger that. Proceed to Al-Asad. We’ll have medical standing by.”
Al Udeid Air Force Base, Qatar
8:22 PM Local Time