by David Wilson
Captain Ardashir was growing more impatient by the minute. Closely examining a map of the area, he was thrown forward hard but jerked to a stop by his seat belt, because the driver of the utility van stomped hard on the brakes. The driver cursed under his breath and turned to the young IRGC officer speaking in Farsi, “Sir, there is a roadblock just ahead.” Looking down the road, the Captain observed that vehicles were indeed blocking not just the road, but had also been pushed into the ditches on both sides of the narrow road to keep anyone from trying to go around the roadblock.
Why now, thought Captain Ardashir. They had finally figured out where the ferry crossing was and now this. According to the map, they were less than two miles from the ferry crossing. Glancing at his watch the Captain saw that it was getting close to 5:45 PM. “Stop here,” stated Captain Ardashir, “Let me look for a way around this. Driver walk down to the roadblock, do not take any weapons, and ask them what is going on. Tell them we are going down to the ferry to cross the river and that we will not stop in their neighborhood.”
The driver hesitated and looked at the Captain for several seconds. The senior NCO reached up and cuffed the private on the back of the head, telling him to go do what the Captain had ordered. The private glanced back at the senior NCO before reaching down and unbuckling his pistol belt. Laying the pistol belt on the center console, the driver opened the van door and climbed out. The Captain watched the driver walk to within about twenty feet of the roadblock before he suddenly stopped and raised his hands above his head. The Captain rolled down his window to see if he could hear what was going on as two men came out from behind the roadblock vehicles and approached the driver. The Captain could vaguely hear the two men giving commands for the driver to lay down on the ground and spread out his arms.
Turning to his senior NCO, the Captain said, “Abbas, hand me your binoculars.” Taking the binoculars, the officer focused on the men searching his driver. He could see they were well armed with some type of AR, more than likely the AR-15 that Americans so loved and seemed to be owned by every male over the age of 18 in the United States. He cursed America in general, what were they thinking of allowing anyone and everyone to have guns. He watched as one of the men kept his driver covered with his rifle as the second man carefully searched him. The Captain noted the second man was careful not to block the view of the man on the ground as he searched him. This made the Captain wonder if they were policemen. They appeared to be trained, and the casual way both men handled their weapons indicated they were familiar with them. Taking a few moments, the Captain examined the group of houses clustered together on the south side of the road. There appeared to be 12 to 15 houses in this small sub-division, which should mean no more than 15 to 20 adult males in the area to defend the roadblock. He grimaced, that still wasn’t good odds considering he needed to get past this roadblock to carry out his real mission.
Turning his binoculars back to the roadblock, he was disappointed to see at least three other men at the roadblock. One of the men at the roadblock was staring directly at the van with his own set of binoculars. Lowering his set of binoculars, the Captain ordered his senior NCO to have the team get ready to assault the roadblock and for the team to make ready a rocket-powered grenade (RPG) launcher in case it was needed to take out the roadblock. Turning his attention back to his man being held by the roadblock, he observed the two men remove the restraints from his driver and the driver turning to come back to the van.
It only took about 30 seconds for the driver to return and climb back behind the wheel of the vehicle. Turning to his Captain, the young man said, “Sir, these men have closed the road and are not allowing anyone that does not live there to enter. They said there was a lot of gunfire, explosions, and smoke clouds coming from the direction of the ferry about two hours ago and then some more rifle fire about an hour ago. They are very suspicious of anyone wanting to go there now. They said we would have to submit to having our vehicle and persons searched before they would allow us to cross into their neighborhood. I told them we were contract workers for the water department and had sensitive equipment with us, and the search would not be possible and that we had an appointment for a 6:00 PM crossing. Still, they said we would have to go back the way we had come from if they were not allowed to search everyone and the van. They refused to allow us to pass through their neighborhoods. I then tried to offer them money, and they just laughed at me, saying money was worthless. I told them I would have to come back and talk to my supervisor.”
Captain Ardashir sat and thought about the situation for several seconds before turning to the senior NCO. “Get two RPG teams ready; I will tell them where to fire after I confirm where most of the guards are. After they fire, they are to jump onto the back bumper, and the van will pull up to the roadblock. You will lead half the men to the left around the roadblock, and I will lead the other half around the right end. Kill all the guards and anyone firing on us. We have to get to the ferry crossing. That is our mission we have been ordered to accomplish. Any questions?” Seeing no one had any questions, the Captain directed his binoculars back at the roadblock. From what he could see, all of the guards were clustered together at the center of the roadblock.
“When I give the order, both RPG teams will exit the back doors and, both will fire at the two cars that make up the center of the roadblock. It appears all the guards have gathered there. Senior Sergeant, you will take your team around to the left, and I will take the remainder of the men around to the right. Keep a sharp eye out for more guards; it seems every American has a gun of some type, and we might be fired on from the closest houses. If we receive fire from any of the houses, do not allow yourself to be pinned down. Go to that house and kill anyone that is there. I do not want this to take over 10 minutes; does everyone understand? RPG teams let me know when you are ready,” stated the Captain.
When his RPG teams indicated they were ready, the Captain gave the order to attack. The rear van doors flew open, and two 2-man teams jumped down and went around both sides of the van. Each team ran out about 30 feet from each side of the van, and the gunner of the RPG team dropped to his knee and aimed his rocket launcher towards the middle of the roadblock. Both teams fired within a second of each other with the rockets going off so close it seemed as if there was one explosion. The two RPG teams sprinted back to the van and jumped up on the back bumper as the van started forward toward the now shattered roadblock.
The Captain smiled as the two rocket-propelled grenades blew the two center vehicles of the roadblock into shattered pieces of metal that the van should have no problem pushing out of the way. Thank Khoda, thought the Captain, congratulating himself on how smoothly his men had performed their task. The Captain’s smile was ripped from his face as something punched into the engine compartment slamming his vehicle to a dead stop. Whatever had hit the van did not stop inside the engine compartment but continued through the engine firewall and into the van. Men screamed and cried out for help. The Captain, his hearing ringing from the passage of the projectile and by the noise of screaming men, turned to look into the back of the van. Just as he turned, two more projectiles punched into the van. He had glanced at the driver of the van as he turned and witnessed a sight that he would carry with him for the rest of his life. The driver had his mouth open to say something when he literally blew apart into a spray of blood and small unidentifiable pieces of organic materials spattering the Captain. The Captain froze in shock as yet another round punch through the windshield and passed his face by just a few inches. The small fragments of the windshield struck the Captain’s right side of his face and neck, jolting him from his state of shock. Without thinking, he screamed, “OUT, GET OUT,” as he grabbed for the door latch and rolled out to lie flat on the pavement. “GET OUT OF VAN,” he screamed at his men. It took what seemed like minutes before the sliding panel slid open, and men poured out to join him on the pavement. As the men tumbled out of the side door, the Captain saw that one man was clutching h
is left leg or what remained of it as it ended in a bloody stump just above the knee. Another man rolled out of the door and collapsed to the ground, blood pouring out of a massive wound in his side. The Captain's first thought was how anyone could still be alive losing that much blood.
Finally, regaining some control of his mind, the young Captain began directing the remaining unhurt men to get up to the roadblock and return fire at whoever was shooting at them. Grabbing two of the men, he directed them back to the van to try and assist the wounded. Of his original nine men, not including himself, he could only see eight that were not wounded or dead. One of the younger NCO’s rose up from behind a roadblock vehicle to fire at one of the house’s upstairs’ window. As soon as he fired off a few rounds, he ducked back down behind what he thought was cover. A second later, those around him found out whatever was shooting at them could and would punch through a car body with ease. Two rounds punched into the vehicle, the young NCO had taken cover behind. The second round found the young man and almost blew him in half when it entered his back and out his front just above where his belly button used to be.
On the other side of the van, the senior NCO forcibly dragged the RPG gunner forward to the roadblock. Taking the reloaded RPG from the frightened young man, the grizzled older NCO checked the launcher to make sure a HE (high explosive) warhead was loaded and then cautiously peeked around the left end of one of the roadblock vehicles. The senior NCO could not spot where the firing was coming from but ordered the frightened young soldier at his feet to move over to the next vehicle and stand up and fire at the closest house. After the young man refused, the senior NCO drew his pistol and aiming at the young man’s face ordered him again to stand up and fire. Shaking almost beyond control, the young man got to his knees and then to his feet. Carefully not looking at the older soldier, the young man pulled his AK around to the front of his body. Once he had it in his hands he looked over at the older NCO and nodded. Knowing the older man would shoot him if he did not obey, the soldier steeled himself and then rapidly raised his weapon, stood up, and without aiming, began pulling the trigger of his AK. After about ten rounds, he threw himself to the ground and rapidly crawled for several feet before collapsing to lay flat on the ground.
The response was immediate from the massive weapon, and the senior NCO smiled as he located the window the weapon was firing from. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the returning rounds had, in fact, missed the young soldier, but only because he had crawled away from his firing point. The two returning rounds had once again punched through the barricade with ease but had hit no one this time. Making sure the RPG was ready to fire, the senior NCO automatically checked behind him to make sure none of his troops was in the backblast area, before slowly raising the RPG into the firing position. Taking careful aim, he squeezed the firing trigger and closed his eyes. The rocket-propelled grenade was kicked out of the launcher by its booster charge until the sustainer motor kicked in, and the rocket quickly accelerated the projectile to its top speed of 660 miles an hour. The projectile knifed across the short distance and struck the dead center of the window where the heavy fire had come from. There was a satisfying explosion from the second story of the house. The senior NCO casually dropped the launcher and turned to his remaining men and screamed at them to advance upon the closest house. He rose and sprinted around the end of the roadblock toward the nearest house, spraying 7.62 x 39mm rounds toward the targeted house as he ran.
Chapter Four
Talon glanced at his watch, noting that it was almost 6:00 PM. Retracing their earlier trek down to the river, Talon slowed his pace as he passed the area where Ben and he had set the YoYo fishing reels. Once the river was visible, Talon stopped and took a knee. Digging around in his vest pouch, he finally found his camo paint compact. Popping it open, he dipped two fingers into the makeup, one with dark green and one with medium green. He quickly applied the face paint, making sure he covered his neck and ears. Upon finishing this task in about 30 seconds, he snapped the compact closed and stuffed it back into his pouch. Slipping his gloves back on, Talon stood and slowly moved down to the tree-covered river bank. Finding a concealed spot to sit against a large oak tree, he sat down and pulled out his binoculars.
Talon rested his elbows on his knees and slowly ran the lenses of the binoculars over the smoldering ferry building that was in view from his observation point. From this point, he could not see the entire ferry building, nor could he see the parking lot directly in front of the main building. Talon again rummaged around in his vest pouch until he found his Hunter’s Ear Pro. Stripping off his gloves, he carefully wiped his hands on his pants before attempting to load a fresh battery into the battery compartment and positioned the device in his left ear. Sitting as still as he could, he adjusted the volume as high as he could without going so high that it began picking up his breathing. Slipping his gloves back on, Talon sat back against the tree and listened. It had been several minutes since Ben and he had heard the explosions and gunfire. Talon was quite sure it had not come from the ferry location, but on the other hand, it had not been very far away. The threat from the Iranian on the Sat phone might not have been a bluff after all, but if it had been one of their teams attempting to get to the ferry site, then they had run into something they had not counted on.
Talon’s mind drifted a little while he sat, watched, and listened. He had hoped he would be able to attempt to contact his family when he had first seen the Sat phone. But now knowing who it belonged to, he knew he could not use it for that purpose. He knew that whatever number was dialed on the phone would be immediately flagged by the Iranians. If he did use it, they would know within minutes who he was calling, and more importantly, they would see where the handset was. That reminded Talon that he should put the handset and battery into his Silent Pocket Faraday pouch. He would have to pull out his short wave radio, but if he was going to keep the Sat phone, then it needed to go into the bag. Talon had first gotten the Silent Pocket Faraday sleeves to protect his laptop and solar panels against the possibility of an EMP attack. After testing them to make sure they worked, Talon had ordered three more of the tablet-sized bags to store his old cell phone (his library of survival books and music), his IPad mini, and his Short Wave Emergency radio in his go-bag. Each of the bags blocked all signals from coming in or out of the bag, including Wireless Signal, cellular, GPS, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, RFID, and NGC.
Talon had been sitting silently for about ten minutes when the sound of gunfire once again floated across the river. Talon thought to himself that he had been correct in that the gunfire had not come from the ferry crossing, but it was close, within a mile or two of the ferry crossing. From his position on the river bank and with the help of his Game Ear, he could tell there were several different weapons being used. He could identify the higher-pitched cracks of the 5.56 and the deeper slower cracks of the AK-47, punctuated by the occasional deeper boom of higher caliber weapons, more than likely deer rifles. The first exchange of gunfire began with two explosions that lasted only a few seconds, followed by silence.
The next exchange of gunfire came about two or three minutes later, again being made up of all three categories ending with an explosion, which to Talon sounded like a hand grenade. Talon sat in place for the next 30 minutes, hearing a couple of rounds followed by a heavy flurry of AK fire. He was just about to call it quits when he heard a vehicle engine in the distance. Judging from the sound of the engine, whoever it was, was in a hurry and getting closer. Talon slowly stood and moved back into the trees to mask anyone from seeing his movement. Once he was back from the riverbank, Talon paralleled the river and moved toward the ferry crossing. Stopping at the edge of the trees that led to the open field and parking lot Talon had a clear view of the former ferry building.
The ferry building was almost down to ashes with just a few timbers still standing on the north end. Talon nodded to himself when he spotted the vehicle as it turned south off the main road onto the road leadin
g to the parking lot. The older model truck came to an abrupt stop at the far end of the property, very close to the spot where Jeff had been killed. Two men armed with AK-47 assault rifles jumped out of the back of the pickup, and two men climbed out of the cab. Only one of the men getting out of the truck cab was armed with an AK. The man getting out of the passenger side had a set of binoculars in his hands. All the men were dressed the same as the terrorists Talon’s group had killed earlier that day. So this is the cavalry thought Talon, looks like they must have lost a few troops somewhere on the way. Hopefully they didn’t do much damage on the way here, but it sure sounded like they might have.
Two of the men armed with AK’s moved away from the truck and towards the burned outbuilding. Splitting up, they carried their weapons at the high ready, like they knew what they were doing as they closed with the pile of dead Iranians. Focusing in on the older of the pair, Talon observed that this guy was not squeamish as when he reached the pile of bodies he paused briefly to say something to the second terrorist, then let his rifle hang from its sling and pulled out his phone and began taking pictures of each of the dead men’s face. As he finished with one, he would roll that body off the pile and do the next one. After he was finished photographing all the bodies, he again spoke to the younger man and then turned and headed back towards the truck. The younger man continued to exam the area and looked as if he was going to circle the burned outbuilding.
Talon thought that if the younger man continued to circle the building that he would also find the body of the last terrorist that Mat had shot. Turning his binoculars back to the older terrorist as he arrived back at the truck and began showing the other man the photographs. After examining the older man’s phone for a couple minutes, the limping man returned to the cab of the truck and pulled out a satellite phone.