Tess Awakening

by Andres Mann

  Amir was almost speechless on learning about this colossal ineptitude. “And what did you do about it, you idiot?”

  “We shot back at the helicopters, General, but they had more firepower.” Realizing that Amir was about to shoot him between the eyes, he added, “The woman, Kejal, helped them escape, but I think we killed her!”

  Amir brought his arm to the hip were he usually strapped his gun, and remembered that he was not dressed for the occasion. He would have shot the hapless soldier, but he settled for a punch to the face that sent the man rolling down the stairs.

  “Where is the woman?!” he demanded.

  “They took her with them in the helicopter, General.” Kemal, still on his back, raised his arm to protect himself from another blow. The General kicked him.

  “Why am I cursed with eunuchs like you?” Then he kicked him again.

  Amir turned on his heels and went up the stairs and back to his suite to get dressed. He would not admit it to himself, but he had cared for Kejal. She was cold as ice, stubborn and resentful. He broke her spirit and forced her to serve him and to come to his bed whenever he fancied it. He actually enjoyed her hostile and contemptuous passivity. It reinforced his sense of domination — to impose on her body at will, without a pretense of affection and foreplay. He was conscious of her silence and stillness when he possessed her, relishing in the thought and feeling that he was merely using the defeated to bring himself pleasure without the need to reciprocate. Yet, he became used to her presence and started to enjoy her beauty and elegance. He eventually had hoped to reach an understanding, where she would accept that what happened to her family was not such a clear-cut situation. Now she was gone because of some illiterate incompetents and — that treacherous American whore. It’s my fault, he reflected. I should have ravished the bitch on the spot, without the superficial pretense of seduction.

  He swabbed the head wound, put on his uniform, donned his leather belt with the holstered weapon, and proceeded to clean up the mess outside. In quick strides, he surveyed the damage, ordered the dead buried, and sent the wounded to the nearby hospital, hoping it was still standing.

  After reordering the compound, he called a staff meeting in his office.

  In short order, his top commanders, in from the front lines, assembled around a long table, along with Abdul Tek, the Fedayeen group leader assigned to Amir’s unit.

  Amir sat at the head of the table and demanded a tactical update. A Colonel summarized the situation. The British had taken Basra. The Americans were racing through the desert with incredible momentum, destroying anything that stood in the path. It was obvious that they were headed for Baghdad, and that there was not much that the Iraqis could do about it.

  The rest of the officers agreed with the assessment and turned to Amir for guidance, orders or any insight that would give them hope.

  Amir remained silent. ‘This is a replay of the first Gulf War in 1991, only worse,’ he thought. At the time, Amir had commanded a tank unit. He felt proud to be a member of the world’s fourth largest Army and proud of his battalion of Russian-made T-55s. They were effective weapons — a fact proven by several victories over the Iranians in 1980.

  However, during the Gulf War, the Iraqis had severely underestimated the effectiveness of the Coalition field forces led by the Americans.

  In a very short period, 100 hours, the enemy pressed the ground attack with surprising speed, unleashed enormous firepower and pursued the Iraqi forces against disintegrating resistance. Most Iraqi Army units surrendered, were destroyed or retreated. Many of the retreating units abandoned their equipment as they fled toward Basra.

  In a desperate attempt to slow down the enemy, some elements of the Republican Guard engaged in several battles with the Coalition forces. However, without a central command, these remaining elements had to operate independently and could no longer conduct cohesive operations.

  Amir’s unit made a valiant attempt to buy some time for other units to retreat. He and his men tried to fight the Americans, but the guns of his tanks did not have the range of the enemy’s Abrams tanks and weapons. All of the rounds fired from Amir’s aging T-55 tanks fell short. The attacking American units rained hell on the Iraqi positions, destroying 61 tanks and 34 armored personnel carriers of the Medina Division in less than one hour. At the end of the battle, Amir lay wounded outside his burning tank. The Iraqis has just been outgunned and overwhelmed by the most formidably capable armed forces the world had ever seen. His entire unit was in flames. Shattered tanks lay everywhere, some of them still burning and exploding as the intense flames engulfed them. Most horrifying of all, the smell of burnt flesh and the cries of the few crew members that survived by bailing out of their burning tanks created a surreal nightmare.

  Amir had no delusions of victory this time around. Abdul, the Fedayeen commander, proposed a fight to the death. “What better glory than to die for Islam and the Great Leader Saddam?”

  Amir did not respond. He loathed Abdul, the repulsive fanatic. He and his band of barbarians had been assigned to Amir’s and others’ units not to fight, but to make sure that the field commanders and soldiers fought. Any doubt at all, and they were authorized to shoot the reluctant ones through the head. Abdul’s men had already indulged in a few such executions just to make a point. When Amir found out, he had grabbed Abdul by the throat and promised to tear him apart if he dared do such a thing again without his permission, Saddam’s orders be damned.

  Abdul made a suggestion. “General, I feel that we need to motivate the troops to fight the Americans. They have heard stories of what happens if they resist the enemy, and the morale is low. I heard talk of defections. We can’t have that happen here.”

  “What would you propose?” Amir felt it coming.

  Abdul stood up and started to walk around the room, forcing the officers to follow him with their eyes. “The ancient Romans understood what it took to make motivated soldiers and fierce warriors. Sometimes, when the Legions did not perform well, the generals employed the military practice of decimation. Legions that performed poorly in the field were punished by having each squad of ten soldiers draw lots and beat one of them to death with staves.”

  One of the officers blanched, and almost fell off the chair. “You must be mad! Are you proposing such a thing with our troops — now?”

  Abdul shrugged his shoulders. “We don’t need to be barbaric. A shot in the head would do.”

  The room fell into a deep silence. Amir finally stood up and declared: “It makes sense. We must fight hard to slow down the enemy advance. We will do as Abdul suggests. Let’s assemble the men in one hour. Dismissed!” The officers stood up and started to file out, looking like zombies.

  Abdul remained behind. When they were alone, he added “General, to obtain the best effect, perhaps you might want to execute a couple of your less enthusiastic officers. I have recommendations if you wish to hear them.”

  Amir looked at the fanatic with a murderous stare. “Not yet!” He stormed out.

  He went back to his office and summoned Colonel Najaf. When the officer arrived, he closed the door.

  Within an hour, the troops assembled in formation. Amir and his top officers stood in front of them. Abdul was at Amir’s side. His troop of murderers stood apart of the soldiers.

  The Fedayeen commander was smiling in anticipation of the upcoming execution of cowards. So were his men, looking conspicuously relaxed when compared to the rest of the troops. He looked at Amir, waiting for the go-ahead to initiate his sadistic massacre.

  Amir took his revolver out of the holster. He looked at his troops, and without any preambles shot Abdul in the face. The Fedayeen fell back as if hit by a vehicle, his head almost blown off. That was the signal. The first rank of Amir’s troops raised their weapons and sprayed automatic fire on the squad of Fedayeen. They all fell instantly. There was a moment of silence. The rest of the soldiers stood still, shocked, not comprehending what had happened. The squad that
executed the murderers dropped their weapons, unsheathed their knives, and fell on the corpses like wolves. With screams of fury, they started to stab and mutilate the bodies.

  Amir’s second in command moved as if to intervene, but the General grabbed his arm. “Leave them alone. Let them have their revenge for their comrades murdered by these pigs” A minute later, the avengers stopped the mutilation, their faces, hands and uniforms covered in blood.

  Amir now spoke to the troops.

  “Soldiers of Iraq! The enemy is fast approaching. Our courage is fierce, but our weapons are no match for theirs. If we fight them now, we will almost certainly die.” He paused for effect.

  He recalled something that Tess had said to him and decided to use the phrase.

  “There is no honor in fighting a lost battle. You may fight, if you wish, but I now authorize you to shed your weapons and uniforms and to go back home to your families. If you meet Americans, do not resist. Stay alive to safeguard your families and live to become a part of the new Iraq! The last task you must perform is to position your tanks and vehicles in battle formation. Don’t stay with the equipment, because its destruction by the enemy is assured.” As soon as you are done, your officers will dismiss you. Good luck and Allah preserve you!” Amir saluted the troops, turned around, and walked toward the palace.

  As he walked, he motioned to Kemal to follow him.

  “I will leave in one hour. I have made arrangements to leave the country until things settle down. I want you and a dozen men to stay here to protect my house. When the Americans arrive, don’t fight. Tell them you are servants awaiting the master’s return. You have seen nothing and know nothing. Explain that you have weapons only to ward off looters. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, General!” Kemal’s knees were shaking.

  “Don’t be afraid. The Americans will ask you a lot of questions. Once they realize you are not a threat, they will let you go. Stay here, take care of things, and I will reward you handsomely.”

  “General, where are you going?” Kemal asked.

  “I will try to make it to my house in Istanbul. I will return in a few months after the war is over. Things will eventually return to normal. They always do. Now go and prepare your men.”

  Amir went inside to pack a few things, destroy some documents, and bring out a suitcase full of American dollars. He changed into civilian clothes, went to the carport and slipped behind the wheel of his Mercedes SUV. On the way out, he picked up two of his bodyguards and proceeded toward Turkey. The Americans would not be in this part of the country for days, and he had his escape route carefully planned. With enough bribes, you can buy just about anything. I will be back! Eventually, Allah willing, I will deal with the American Major again.

  Chapter 10

  The Quest

  Jake woke up groping the bed, hoping for his hand to land on Tess’s breast. No luck. He managed to open his eyes and heard the shower running. ‘I can’t believe she is up and about,’ he thought. His body was a mass of aches and bruises; it felt sore and battered, and still tired beyond exhaustion. He just wanted to go back to sleep, with Tess in his arms.

  Tess came into the room, still toweling off, carelessly if lusciously naked.

  “Good morning sleepy head,” she teased him while rummaging through her bag for underwear.

  “Where are you going?” Jake responded, quite annoyed at what he saw. The last thing he wanted was to see Tess dressed. “You don’t have to get up. We can send for room service.”

  “I’ll grab something to eat on the way back.”

  Jake repeated his question: “Where are we going?”

  “I am going back to the base. I called ahead to have my men ready to go back to that Iraqi General’s compound.”

  “Are you nuts? We went through hell to get us out of there, and now you want to go back?”

  “Yes I do,” Tess responded. I want to go back to find out where in the world the General has stashed Kejal’s little girl, and then I am going to get her away from him.” She finished putting on her fatigues.

  “Tess, think about it. You were taken prisoner. According to protocol, the Army will not let you go back in combat until they have completed your debriefing and psychological assessment. You are even entitled to repatriation!” His voice now had a tinge of desperation. He was disappointed to the core. He wanted her back in bed, not back to the desert chasing ghosts.

  “I don’t care about protocol. I’m going to find the girl before the bastard kills her; period!” She left no room for argument.

  Jake reluctantly got out of bed, still naked. He approached Tess and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Are you always so relentless?”

  Tess freed herself violently, suddenly recalling the manhandling she received by Amir. “You are hurting me! Let me go!”

  Jake dropped his hands and pleaded: “Tess, we both have been through hell. We deserve to rest and heal our bruises. Besides, I want more time with you!”

  Tess put her hat on. “Don’t get any ideas, buddy! That was a comfort fuck. Let’s not make it more than it was.”

  Jake most definitely did not agree. “Do you really think that’s all it was?”

  “They all say that when they want more. Let’s not make a big thing about it. Come on, get dressed. If you want to spend more time with me, it will be on a chopper, not in bed!”

  Jake was furious. He would have loved to tear off the ugly military clothes, expose that flesh that he craved to touch, throw her in bed and smother her with his body which ached with a need to possess her once more. Last night, it was gentle and brief. Now, he wanted her with lust that he had not felt for a long time.

  “Tess, get real! The chances of finding that girl are practically nil. Even if you do, that bastard will probably have killed her.”

  “If you don’t come with me, I’ll go by myself. As they say, it’s not over until it’s over.”

  Jake wanted to scream and walk away, but he wanted her even more. He also realized it was not going to happen just now. It had to be her way. Once she made up her mind, no power on earth could stop her.

  “All right, Tess, fine. Let me take a quick shower and we are on our way,” he said resignedly.

  “Excellent; I will go downstairs a get two lunch bags. I will be in front waiting in the Humvee.” That’s it; end of discussion.

  Jake quickly checked out, jumped into the vehicle Tess had running on the hotel driveway, and set off for the base camp. While munching their sandwiches, they both marveled at the ironies of a relatively modern city going about its business in the middle of a major war in its backyard. There seemed to be little out of the ordinary, men and women walking through town, businessmen driving to work, people in the modern shopping malls. The only sign of something amiss was the presence of several military vehicles at major intersections.

  After passing through the base checkpoint, they stopped at the command building. Tess jumped off the Humvee with the ease of a dancer, in the process further impressing Jake, who was still feeling the deep-seated soreness in his muscles. This woman is something else, he thought. Behind her beauty, she is a tough cookie with a determination and drive that few people possess.

  Tess knocked on Colonel Reynolds’ door. The CO hailed her in.

  “Tess, where the hell have you been? I have people all over looking for you!”

  “Not to worry, Sir. I just went to get some rest in Kuwait City.”

  “You shouldn’t be out. As a matter of fact, you should still be in the hospital.”

  “No time for that, Sir. I would like to join with the units headed for General al-Saadi’s positions. I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

  “Yes, I heard what’s happened to you, and I can’t blame you for wanting to get even, but I can’t allow it. Let the Third Infantry take care of him. You have been through hell. I would like you to have some rest.”

  “Colonel, if I don’t go back, Alkan will kill a little girl. Her mother saved m
y life. I must do what I can to find her before the General gets to her.”

  Colonel Gardner was getting used to arguing with Tess; in fact, he did not remember a single instance where she followed orders without a fuss.

  Time to use official language. “Major, the answer is no. You have been a prisoner of war; you have not completed your physical exam or a debriefing. You should apply to be sent home to the States. You have done your duty. Give it up!”

  “Colonel, not only did I make a promise to a dying woman, but the bastards I am going after killed Major Gardner. I know who they are, and the layout of the palace. I can get in and do what I need to do in a few hours.”

  “How do you want me to explain this to your father? That you are lunatic?”

  “Thanks for the compliment, Colonel, but my father will understand.”

  ***

  Tess and Jake boarded a chopper with a pilot and two crew members. They took off and made for Amir al-Saadi’s compound. When they arrived, they saw a lot of smoke but no activity. The landed at the periphery and a gunner manned his weapon, looking for threats.

  Tess and Jake walked rapidly toward the mansion and came upon the bodies of the Fedayeen that al-Saadi had executed.

  The mansion’s doors were locked, and a servant told them through them that he was to protect his master’s house. Jake spoke in Arabic and assured him that the Americans would most assuredly blow up the place if they were not allowed in. The servant was persuaded and opened the door.

  Jake grabbed him by the throat and asked “Where are your master and the little girl?” The terrified servant divulged that the General had left with the child and several troops, but he did not know where. Jake tried to get more out of him until it became evident that he really didn’t know.

  “Jake, he might not know where Saadi went, but he might tell us a little bit about his activities.”

  Encouraged by an occasional slap and kick, the servant finally provided some useful information. The general had an apartment in Istanbul, one in Paris, and an estate not far from London. He could be in any one of these places.