by Jack Leavers
Greg outlined the mission. First, he used the map to describe the target area, which was less than three kilometres from where we were sitting. The main Mosul Museum building was rectangular-shaped, with the two shorter sides facing east and west. Its entrance on the eastern side faced a complex mess of a traffic junction. The western side had a car park leading to an access road which marked the edge of the museum property. On the north side was Al-Jamhuriya Street, a main thoroughfare with a central reservation and shops lining the opposite side. To the south was a square with park space containing unknown levels of trees and foliage. The Hurriya Bridge leading to East Mosul was only 400 metres east along Al-Jamhuriya Street. The immediate area was spacious when compared to the tight-knotted streets of the Old City, which began just a few hundred metres to the north and west.
Three four-man TF145 teams were already inserting in proximity to the target.
Team VIPER 1 would be in buildings fifty metres west of the museum across the access road, giving them eyes on the car park, the western side of the buildings, and down Al-Jamhuriya Street running along the northern side.
VIPER 2 would be in the rear of specially modified vehicles parked up between 100 and 200 metres to the east, with eyes on the entrance and the open ground in the square to the south.
The third team, VIPER 3, including me and Dexter, would be positioned in an apartment above a grocery shop across the road to the north, with eyes on the east-facing entrance less than seventy metres away.
Four further teams, designated BLUE 1 through 4, would cover four junctions which made up a square encompassing the target area, with each side of the square approximately 350 metres. These teams provided an outer cordon to ensure any insurgent movement in or out of the target area was monitored and curtailed if necessary. Any indications of compromise or an unfavourable tactical situation and the abort code could be issued. That code was ‘FUMBLE’.
Finally, the assault force stood by, ready to pounce from the air in Black Hawk helicopters once they received the confirmation code Abu Saif and/or other High Value Targets were in the target building. The GO code word was ‘TOUCHDOWN.’ Once the TOC transmitted the code, it would be a matter of minutes before the assault teams would be landing outside the main entrance and abseiling onto the roof of the museum, dealing with any resistance and securing prisoners.
In support of all this activity were surveillance planes and drones, fast air (fighter bombers), green army units on standby, and an as yet unconfirmed level of Peshmerga support, ready if needed in the eastern half of the city, across the River Tigris.
Greg and his team would not be part of our OP team though. That team, VIPER 3, was already inserting into the apartment overlooking the museum entrance. Instead, Greg’s BLUE 5 team were tasked with escorting me and Dexter to the OP, before they would take up position as a support team within the square cordon area.
Roper and our Kurds were at a Peshmerga command post on the other side of the river, deployed as a liaison team. Their TF145 escort team on the way back to take up a role as the second support team in the cordon area, call sign BLUE 6.
The Commander’s intent was for everyone to be in position by 1800 hours, before the daily Islamic prayers of Maghrib due at that time and those of Isha just over an hour later. A hypnotic call to prayer would resonate at slightly different times from every mosque, summoning thousands of worshippers who would pour through the streets. The resulting noise and movement were expected to help conceal the presence of the TF145 forces.
It was vital the motley crew of TF145 operators blended into the city, monitoring for suspicious activity and ready to react if things went off kilter. But it was intended the assault teams would have extracted the prisoners and we’d all be returning to base before the insurgents knew what had hit them.
Chapter 40
Our two taxis moved smoothly in concert in the late afternoon traffic as we headed north into the heart of Mosul. They were being driven by the two Middle Eastern-born American SF soldiers, mine by Ricky (Tariq) and the other taxi with Dexter on board by Jordanian-born Moose (Mustafa). Greg sat in the commander’s seat in front of me and another of his men, Neil, alongside me in the back. Dexter had a similar arrangement in the vehicle behind us, commanded by Greg’s 2IC, Russ, otherwise known as ‘Wolfman’ on account of the thick hair covering his forearms and sprouting from under his shirt. The grey cloak of the late afternoon was drawing in and the Tigris over on our right flowed alongside with a murky malevolence.
Plenty of other taxis were in amongst the blaring horns and shouting drivers jostling their way into the city centre. Dexter’s taxi overtook us at times and dropped back at others, our elastic connection hopefully invisible to those around us. My HK MK23 was made ready with the safety catch on. This was a completely different scenario to my recent trips to Iraq. Despite the exceptional professionalism of the TF145 guys, they operated in a dangerous world where many factors of risk and chance were outside their control, the potential for compromise a fact of life. How it was dealt with when it happened marked out the best guys from the rest.
Greg broke the silence in the vehicle. ‘Target building entrance will come into sight one hundred metres to our left in… one hundred… fifty… target building left.’
We moved through the junction with the museum entrance visible over to our left. As we continued north to circle round to the drop-off point, I glanced over to the shop buildings on the opposite side of Al-Jamhuriya Street where VIPER 3 was already deployed. Soon after, we needed to force a left turn through the river of opposing traffic; our driver Ricky traded angry gestures and shouts with the other drivers as we edged our way through. After both vehicles had made the turn and closed up again, Greg gave the warning order.
‘Drop-off three hundred and fifty metres, prepare to deploy.’
The city bus depot was a mass of people, buses, and interloping vehicles, somehow all managing to avoid colliding with each other.
‘This junction is the Emergency RV,’ Greg said before we turned left to head south down a narrow road towards the target area.
One hundred and fifty metres later we turned left at a crossroads and the taxi pulled over. ‘This is the RV,’ said Greg, opening the door and letting the initial swell of the call to prayer flood in, first from our left, then from distance ahead of us. I joined Greg and Neil on the broken pavement.
The streets were narrow with two and three-storey buildings left and right, although there was a main road just over a hundred metres immediately ahead – the same road we’d been driving north along three minutes ago before cutting left through the traffic and past the ERV. However, the three of us turned right down an empty side street after only forty metres, with Dexter and his two escorts spaced out and following. Ricky and Moose in the modified taxis had taken off to position themselves as rear cover and prepare to pick up the team and move to their support position once we were handed over to VIPER 3.
The soporific crescendo of the call to prayer from multiple mosques began to recede as a figure emerged from the shadows on the left. Adrenaline shot through my body as I anticipated more figures to emerge or flashes of gunfire to erupt, but Greg and the figure exchanged Arabic greetings before Greg urged me over.
‘This is Shaun from VIPER 3. He’ll take you into the OP. Good luck and see you at the RV once we’re done.’
I nodded, and Shaun swept me through a small gate, with Dexter following quickly in my wake. We carefully navigated a rubbish-strewn yard where I spotted a broken bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label whisky. Not their most expensive label, but a surprise to see it here in Central Mosul. I didn’t imagine drink-fuelled get-togethers were encouraged. As we entered through a doorway into the building, we passed a figure with an M4 in his shoulder – another member of the team. Then up a flight of stairs and into a dark hallway. Shaun motioned for us to get down low as he opened a door and moved inside.
Considering the team only had minimal notice, the set-up and location was impressive. The front entrance of the museum visible right in front of us across the road about seventy metres away, with the building itself stretching away to the right, down Al-Jamhuriya Street.
Dexter checked the left-hand optic before moving aside so I could take a look. Fixed to a tripod, it was trained on the large museum entrance and gave an incredible close-up view of the door and the immediate surrounding area. As I lifted my head away from the scope, Dexter passed me a set of binoculars which I used to check the target area again. Not magnified to the same level, but still very good. Dexter tested the second optic on the right and gave a thumbs up. A high-resolution camera was also fixed on the same view, beaming pictures back by satellite uplink to the TOC although it appeared the link had a technical issue.
‘Fucking piece of shit isn’t connecting,’ the soldier muttered to Dexter, who didn’t seem to get much joy out of it either.
The gravity of the situation bore down on me heavily. Until then, I’d been concentrating on getting to the OP. Now the success of the mission relied to a large extent on the ability of me or Dexter to correctly identify one or more of Abu Saif and other High Value Targets. The two other VIPER teams in the vicinity of the target had digital photofit prints from the description of Abu Saif I’d provided in London and images of other key targets, but they’d been poor quality and I doubted anyone would find it easy to make a positive ID from them. I hoped their satellite feeds were transmitting images back to Katie at the TOC more successfully than ours.
In the fading light, my biggest fear was the illumination wouldn’t be sufficient to make an identification. A large sodium light shone above the museum door, but the fragility of the electricity supply meant no guarantees it would stay on. All that assumed the intelligence was accurate and we weren’t on another wild goose chase or, even worse, being lured into a trap.
*
I checked my watch: 20:43. Both the prayers of Maghrib and Isha had come and gone and we’d spent most of the last three hours straining to detect movement towards and around the museum entrance, with nothing seen so far. The VIPER 3 commander, Shaun, had kept us updated as he received various tactical messages from the other teams, and the 18E SF communications sergeant, Danny, received longer range encrypted traffic from the TOC.
Roper, Nabil, Dara and Hamza seemed to be doing a useful liaison job over on the other side of the river. I assumed that was how we obtained information apparently originating from Kurdish intelligence. The first message, not long after 18:00, had confirmed a high-level meeting was taking place in Mosul tonight, along with a cryptic warning the insurgents were discussing ‘American spies’ in the city. There was no clarification whether it meant our presence had been compromised in any way, or it should be construed as a more general warning. However, it prompted instructions from the TOC to be on high alert for signs of insurgent surveillance efforts or gatherings of armed men in potential attack positions.
Shortly afterwards, a further message excited Dexter, who whispered across to me, ‘The Kurds are reporting Zarqawi is in the city for the meeting. This could be the jackpot.’
By 20:43 it had been two-and-a-half hours since the message about Zarqawi. Units from the 25th Infantry had been moved into blocking positions, ready to cut off escape routes out of the city, so now hundreds of men watched and waited, knowing each minute that passed could be a minute closer to a trap being sprung which could deal a serious blow to AQI and the Iraq insurgency.
I caught the sound of distant gunfire to the right and turned my ear towards it. It was faint, probably a kilometre or more away, but sustained and growing in intensity. We all exchanged glances as the gunfire was augmented by explosions. It sounded a long way outside our target area and cordon, but then a second, louder firefight erupted much nearer.
I heard Shaun transmit, ‘VIPER 3, roger, out,’ before he gave us an update. ‘Blue 1 on the north-west corner of the cordon is reporting heavy presence of armed men north of their position and down Al-Jamhuriya Street to the south-west.’
As sporadic shooting joined in behind us to the north, Danny cut in. ‘TOC reports insurgents have attacked two police stations west of the Old City. Could be a diversionary tactic to cover key movements. All teams stand by for instructions. Be prepared for immediate exfil if required.’
I caught Dexter’s eye and we both shook our heads. Surely the insurgents knew these attacks would stir up the security forces, so it seemed unlikely they would initiate an operation immediately prior to a meeting of their highest-level commanders. A diversion perhaps, but that too struck me as doubtful. The thought grew in my head – we might be watching the wrong location.
Although it wasn’t impossible the AQI leaders were already in the museum at that moment, it was improbable. The three VIPER teams had monitored all the approaches since late afternoon. We needed to remain on standby in case Zarqawi, Abu Saif, and their gang suddenly appeared, but deep down I think everyone suspected this was a bust.
We’d finished packing away all the kit except one of the optics, when four pickup trucks sped through the junction fifty metres to our left and swung towards the museum entrance.
‘VIPER 3, hostile vehicles on the goal line. Stand by, Stand by.’
I had my eye to the scope watching a dozen armed men spill out of the trucks as Shaun gave a quick update.
‘Guys, BLUE 2 reports no additional hostiles in view. Dexter, John, you got PID on any of our targets?’
It might be unlikely, but none of us had given up on the possibility the meeting could still happen here.
There was a pause as Dexter scanned with the binos and I concentrated hard on the armed figures in front of me. They had jumped out with intent, but after a cursory check of the door and a glimpse down the sides of the building, half of the men seemed to relax. The other half jumped into two of the pickups and drove out of sight past the far southern corner of the museum.
‘Negative PID,’ reported Dexter.
Much as I willed it, Abu Saif wasn’t one of them. ‘Negative PID.’
‘Roger,’ acknowledged Shaun. ‘Could be an advance party,’ he said to us before speaking into his mike. ‘VIPER 3, negative PID.’
These guys might be an advance party, but with the sound of gunfire reverberating across the city, surely the AQI leaders wouldn’t be settling down for a cosy chat now.
‘VIPER 3, roger, out,’ said Shaun into his radio in answer to a message I hadn’t heard.
‘VIPER 1 has the two trucks at the rear of the building on the western side. Looks like they’re checking it’s secure but making no attempt to enter.’ Shaun paused then added, ‘I don’t think this is going to be our night.’
Danny’s voice broke in: ‘VIPER 3 acknowledged.’ Then to us: ‘TOC reports from Kurdish intel that the meeting has already taken place at the Hunchback. 25th Infantry has engaged a large force heading north on Tampa. Possibly AQI command elements. Codeword: FUMBLE. All teams are ordered to extract immediately.’
Danny had already moved to the last remaining scope as he spoke and began packing it away.
The Hunchback was the name of the leaning minaret of the Al Nuri Mosque in the Old City. Setting up this operation around that target would have been very difficult if not impossible. A check of the map showed it was less than one and a half kilometres away, but it may as well have been in a different country.
Everything wasn’t lost though. If 25th Infantry had intercepted a leadership convoy, then maybe the night could still end on a high. My concern was our current location. Where did the bad intel come from about the museum as the meeting location? Compromise? Disinformation? A decoy? A trap? Judging by the posture of the armed guys currently lounging outside the museum, it didn’t appear we’d been compromised or it was much of a trap. They weren’t acting as though they knew teams of speci
al forces were watching their every move.
‘What do you reckon, Dex?’ I asked.
‘I reckon we need to be very careful getting the hell out of here,’ replied Dexter.
‘Roger that gentlemen. Come on, let’s haul ass,’ said Shaun, moving low towards the doorway.
Chapter 41
Now an intricate dance was required to extract all the TF145 personnel from the city and back to the airbase without compromise. The three VIPER teams would move first and, once they were all mobile, the remaining four BLUE teams at the corners of the cordon would melt away.
VIPER 2, who had been deployed in scruffy local vans to the east of the museum all night, were already on their way towards us to pick up Shaun and VIPER 3.
VIPER 1 in the buildings to the west were being extracted by the BLUE 6 support team which had earlier escorted Roper and the Kurds to the Peshmerga Command Centre in the battered pickup trucks.
Greg and the BLUE 5 team were manoeuvring their taxis to the RV location by the crossroads where they’d dropped us off.
As we left the OP building, the night felt alive with an electric energy stirred by the crackle of small arms in the distance. The tension of the situation alone would have been enough to keep me on edge, but the snarling clamour of the city amplified the foreboding.
But there was no time to worry about it as we moved out onto the street and away from the OP. Engine noises and lights drew closer and turned into the road ahead of us. I waited for a steer from Shaun and the team and a thumbs-up allowed me to release the breath I’d been holding. This was VIPER 2, here to extract Shaun and the guys. While the other two team members climbed into the vans with the kit, Shaun and Danny took me and Dexter up to the road junction and went firm. Forty metres to my left I could see two taxis parked near the crossroads facing towards us, with two figures heading our way.