Limits of Protection

by Kelly Utt

Now that I remember my past life as a soldier in Ancient Greece, I find it odd how I could live for long stretches of time without tapping into the knowledge which I had stored on a deeper level. My memories from my Greek life as experienced during hypnosis have been powerful. Each time Joe has regressed me, I’ve felt incredibly proud to have been a soldier, both then and now.

  As far as I know, in this lifetime, Dad was never interested in joining the military. He and I never discussed it, so I’m not sure why not. He was a strong, smart, and selfless man. He would have made a great soldier. From what I understand, he decided to throw everything he had into building his business and providing a better life for me and Mom. I guess, when you look at it from that point of view, he simply didn’t have time for anything else. Maybe a part of him knew he wasn’t going to live to be an old man. And in that case, his time to make his mark and get us set up properly was even shorter than the average person might have expected. The fortune he built will provide financial security for generations. That’s a huge accomplishment. I don’t look down on Dad for not joining the military. I believe it’s an important thing for an American to do, but I know it’s not right for everyone. That’s the beauty of having a volunteer military. Those of us who choose to enlist can pull the weight so people like my dad can choose to do other things.

  I remember watching old war movies with Dad. I think he admired soldiers. I think he respected them. We never discussed it, but that’s the impression I got. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I ever heard Dad make a statement about war or the military. But I feel like he was supportive. He certainly never said anything negative about his little brother choosing to devote his life to service in the Air Force. Even though Dad didn’t speak any affirmative words which I can remember at the present moment, I think I can confidently say I know how he felt. Maybe he felt a little guilty for not having gone himself. Maybe that explains his reserved stance on the topic. I wish he were still here so I could ask him myself. I’d like to think he’d be proud of my service. I’d like to think he’d be proud of me and what I’m doing right now.

  The other men in my family were similarly supportive of military service, even if they didn’t serve themselves. Granddad Marks, who raised Dad and Liam, was a big supporter of our armed forces. I didn’t know him, but I feel like I did after hearing so many stories from Dad and Liam. As the stories go, Granddad Marks flew a flag in his yard in Bannersville, Pennsylvania. He, too, was proud of Liam‘s aspirations to go into the military. Liam knew from the time he was a young child that’s what he wanted to do with his life and Granddad and Grandmother Marks encouraged him to make his dream a reality.

  On Mom’s side, her dad, John Wendell, never served in the military either. He was the right age for World War II, but he didn’t volunteer. He and I never talked much about it, but I know he felt some guilt because several guys he had grown up with went to World War II and were killed. From what I understand, John Wendell had some minor health issue that prevented him from going. Maybe a heart murmur. I wish he were still around for me to ask. Regardless of the details surrounding his decision to remain a civilian, I know for a fact he was very proud of me and my service. He told me as much as recently as this past January before he died. I remember little things John Wendell did when I was a kid which let me know he supported our troops. He had flag things here and there, including a flag on his mailbox and a hat he often wore with the red, white, and blue on the front. John Wendell stood tall when the national anthem was played and he placed his hand over his heart.

  Mom, on the other hand, always seemed to have a subtle disdain for the military. I’ve never quite been able to figure out how she came to feel that way. I don’t think she got it from John Wendell or Grandma. She and I never discussed it either, but I’ve heard her voice support for Jane Fonda’s actions back in the Vietnam war. As a kid, I didn’t realize the significance. There was a lot of clamoring that seemed to go on as told by the nightly news. I remember watching Ronald Reagan address the nation during his presidency while I sat on the beige and brown sofa beside Mom. I remember the news of terrorists hijacking planes and taking them to Libya with a cabinet full of freight and passengers on board. I remember news of Chernobyl. I remember when the Challenger space shuttle exploded. And I remember the cheering crowds on TV when the Berlin Wall came down. For all I know, Dad watched the same news programs from his office at work while he wrapped up for the day. But he wasn’t usually home by that time of evening, so my frame of reference was just me and Mom. That’s what stands out in my memory. I realize those events weren’t all related to military or war, but now that I’m an adult who has served in the military for my career, I’ve come to understand that almost every world event is connected in some way to the U.S. military. In some cases, the events were a direct result of actions or stances our military took. Other times, our military was standing by ready to take action. Most of the time, when the latter happened, the general public never knew about it.

  Looking back, it seems like maybe Mom was trying not to let on about how she really felt. But I remember the sighs and the times she shook her head no before she caught herself. Or, at least, before she caught me observing her. I know she bristled at talk of violence and war. As a nurse, I think she was more attuned to the horrors of war than people in other professions might have been. I’m pretty sure Mom still associates the military with those horrors, even to this day. She wishes for a peaceful world where the military isn’t necessary. What Mom doesn’t seem to understand is that we all feel that way. Even back in Greece, I remember hating what we had to do when we were raiding that village. It was horrible. I remember feeling Roddy‘s emotions and knowing that, even though he was the leader who put on a brave face, he felt horrible, too. I’d be willing to bet that everyone involved with tonight‘s raid, including Colonel Becker and Tucker Eriksson, would prefer a world where violence wasn’t necessary.

  At career day in third grade, I told my classmates I planned to be a veterinarian. I had a whole presentation, complete with a stuffed German Shepherd. Maybe I knew I’d have one of those dogs someday. As I spoke to the class, I imagined myself as a grown man, comforting injured animals and performing check-ups on fluffy puppies and kittens. I could see it all clearly. I imagined myself wearing a white lab coat with my name across the breast pocket in blue, cursive writing. I imagined getting up and going to work at my office every day, where I’d go into a back room and wait until the next patient was brought in. And I imagined giving treats to the animals before I examined them to help ease their minds. It all seemed exciting. And manageable.

  If Mom had gotten her way, I’d probably be a vet now. And maybe that would have been fine. I certainly wouldn’t be on a helicopter with a SEAL team flying over Syria right now if Mom had a crystal ball and anything to say about it. To her credit though, she’s been kind enough, or maybe wise enough, to keep her mouth shut. She never tried to stop me from joining the Air Force or from choosing to stay in and make a career out of it. I hope she’s proud of me now. I hope all of my family members are.

  I’m acutely aware that my life is in grave danger during this mission tonight. Any number of things could go wrong which could leave me returning home in a body bag. I don’t want to die tonight. I don’t want to die for a very long time. I want to live to be an old man and to be with Ali as an old woman, just like in my dream of the cottage. But if I should die tonight, at least I will have died doing what I believe is right. And in that event, I sure hope that every single one of my loved ones would be proud of me. I hope they would believe that my sacrifice was worth it. I hope they would agree with my decisions and find the cause I fight for as worthy as I do.

  I sit quietly and contemplate as the helicopter takes us to the covert drop location. The mood of the group is very serious. Hardly a word is spoken. This is partially because it’s difficult to talk over the hum of the blades. Although, special ops helicopters aren’t much louder than a car engine. It’s a huge tac
tical advantage. Even so, the humming sound and the sound of the air whooshing around the body of the copter creates background noise.

  I look around at the faces of everyone on our team and I wonder what they’re thinking about right now. The SEALs appear cool, calm, and collected. I suppose this is just another day’s work for them. The same goes for their dog, Hutch. I’m looking forward to seeing Hutch in action. Lady did such a great job the night of the break-in. She gave me a new appreciation for what German Shepherd‘s can do in a tense situation. Hutch here is probably one of the most highly trained dogs on the planet. I’ll bet he’s amazing in action.

  Finn Reed and Draco Elias look focused. They don’t seem quite as intense as the SEALs, which is to be expected. But I’m confident they’re going to do their part in assessing the terrorists’ chemical weapons expertise. Draco rubbed me the wrong way, but I trust Colonel Becker‘s decision making, so I decide to let that go.

  Frida Price looks the most nervous of all. I don’t know whether or not she’s been embedded with a SEAL team like this before. It’s enough to rattle anybody. Maybe she’s more stressed because she knows all the subtleties of the intelligence that has been gathered over the course of several years. She may feel a lot of pressure being the only one who knows the nitty-gritty details. If things go sideways and we encounter something unexpected tonight, Tucker will look to Frida for additional intel to inform his decisions. She notices me looking at her and she meets my gaze. I give her a quick nod to show my support. She smiles, then looks down at her feet. I consider trying to talk to her, but there isn’t time. We’ve reached the drop-off point and the helicopter is descending down to land on the dusty ground.

  The second the wheels touch Earth, Tucker Eriksson leaps to his feet and motions for us to follow him out of the helicopter and into the black night. We have to move fast. We’ve landed a little ways outside of the village, but our pilot needs to get the helicopter out of here so it doesn’t alert anyone to our presence. My breathing is shallow, so I tell myself to take a big breath as I stand up and step outside, securing my night vision goggles over my eyes hastily as I go. Liam is behind me. I can feel his presence and it gives me tremendous comfort.

  When we’re all out of the copter, the pilot takes off and quickly disappears into the darkness. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so afraid. All of the special ops missions I’ve been a part of before have allowed me to stay at somewhat of a distance. This is different. It’s a whole other level. I can feel that we don’t belong here. We’re in a foreign land. A hostile one. It reminds me of the feeling I had as a kid stepping into a haunted house. I knew I was being watched and I knew scary creatures would be jumping out to try and get me. Here I stand as a grown man, wearing all this high-tech gear and having had relevant training. Yet, I feel like a kid who is afraid an imaginary bogeyman is going to come and get him. Only, our bogeymen tonight are very real. We have to be smart and follow protocol to evade detection and to complete our mission.

  I’m surprised by how fast Tucker Eriksson is moving us from one step to the next. No sooner are we out of the copter then he has us jogging into town. I’m not sure what I expected, but I guess I thought there would be at least a few minutes of downtime between the execution of steps. I follow along and do as I am instructed. I have no choice. I’ve got to keep pace and do my part. The last thing I want is to be a weak link who causes the others trouble. We keep our fingers on the triggers of our guns as we jog. And we watch the vicinity around us. I’ve been told to keep my eyes peeled for enemy combatants who may notice us and try to launch an attack. I’m not supposed to shoot without Tucker’s permission unless I think someone is about to open fire on us or I see an RPG in someone’s hands. As I chug along with the group, I hope I don’t have to make a choice about whether or not to take time and ask permission to shoot. If we are detected and ambushed, every second will count. I don’t want to disobey orders and get myself court-martialed when I get out of here. But the first priority is making it through tonight.

  It’s about three-quarters of a mile to our target location in the village. We arrive in less than ten minutes. We’re all in good physical shape. No one is winded. It’s warm underneath our uniforms and gear and we’re all sweating, but we’re strong and we’re still ready. So far, so good. The streets are quiet and we don’t see any people around. We pass a couple of buildings that look sort of like apartments where people are probably sleeping. We also pass a market area and what looks like a play yard. I’m reminded of Idris and my heartbreak when I watched her from Nellis. She was killed during a drone strike and was considered collateral damage. She was just a little girl who found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her death took such a toll on Cody Hebert that he jumped out a window of Circus Circus Hotel in Las Vegas, ending his own life. I certainly hope no civilians are harmed tonight.

  We reach the building with the bell tower first. Tucker sends one of his guys who is a sniper up to the top to get in position. He breaches the door and makes it up to the top without any interference. Apparently, villagers are asleep and are not guarding all of the buildings. We get the signal that our guy is set up in position and ready to provide cover. This is a huge win. Hopefully, it’s a sign of good things to come. If the entire op goes this smoothly, we’ll all be relieved. Not to mention, we’ll all be alive. Making it through alive and uninjured is top priority, second only to completing the mission of analyzing the terrorist group’s capabilities and destroying their lab.

  The rest of us continue straight ahead to the building which CIA intelligence tells us is the chemical weapons lab. We don’t slow our pace, but rather we continue to jog on approach. Two more of Tucker’s guys race up ahead and plant explosives to breach the front door. It’s all happening so fast that it makes my head spin. I truly thought things would happen more slowly. I know I probably shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. It’s a lot to take in at once. The good news, for me anyway, is that it’s happening so fast, it’s becoming harder and harder to be afraid. There isn’t time to be afraid. It’s just full steam ahead. I assume it will be that way until we’re done.

  The breach happens on the first attempt. The door blows completely off the structure and the SEAL team leads the way as we go inside. We know from the intelligence Frida has collected that we’ll encounter multiple layers of concrete and steel before we get down to the actual lab. We don’t have much to go on in terms of the layout of the building, so we can’t be certain what we’re walking into. But the element of surprise is the best thing we have going for us. Tucker forges ahead confidently, the team following closely behind him. My heart just about leaps out of my chest as we encounter our first enemy combatant. It’s black dark inside the building, so we only see him as a greenish figure in our night vision goggles. I can tell the man is holding an assault rifle. Tucker takes aim and shoots him dead before he can even raise his weapon towards us. A woman who had been standing beside him runs off, screaming. None of us says a word. We keep going. We keep moving forward at what is beginning to feel like a frantic pace.

  We’re all wearing body cams, so Colonel Becker and Senior Airman Puckett are watching from the safety of their bunker at Camp Shorabak. If anything changes about the mission, the Colonel is in touch with Tucker Ericson through coms and will give us new instructions. As we walk past the man Tucker just killed, one of the SEALs takes a camera phone out of his pocket, lights up the flash, and snaps a picture of the dead man’s face. He sends it back to base for the team there to run facial recognition on. It’s all happening fast. I can’t get over just how fast.

  So far, we’ve been skirting the edge of the building in a series of long hallways on the ground level, but we know we need to get down to the lower levels to find the lab. Sadly, Tucker turns around and motions for the group of us to split up. My stomach does a flip inside of me as I realize that Liam and I now have to go different directions. This is why they wanted two of us aerospace engineers and two of the chemical
weapons guys. This is the part where one team may not make it out and so they want a backup plan. But no one told us we’d be split up. Anger surges through my body and every fiber of my being wants to stop this. I want to tell Tucker Eriksson that he can’t split me and my uncle up. I want to tell him that we both have to make it out alive. My family needs us. We need each other. I want to cling to Liam like a boy who doesn’t want his favorite uncle to leave him. I don’t care what the others would think of it. I don’t care if it would make me look juvenile or overly sensitive. I just don’t want to be separated from my uncle right now. Not under these conditions.

  I turn and look at Liam who, up until now, has been right behind me. I can’t see his face, but rather only the profile of him in his soldier uniform and gear. The night vision allows me that much. But I can’t make out his facial expressions. He raises one arm and puts his hand tightly on my shoulder like he’s done so many times before. He gives my shoulder a squeeze and then shakes it a couple of times, letting me know that we have to be brave and that we have to keep going. Tears begin to stream down my cheeks and collect in the bottom of my goggles. They burn hot on my face. I can’t help but expect the worst. My mind reels as I think about the odds of us all making it out of this alive. They can’t be good.

  As Liam drops his hand and begins to walk away with his assigned half of the team, my heart pounds hard in my chest. Tucker Eriksson has assigned me to stay with him, which means that Liam is heading off with the number two SEAL guy in charge of his contingent. I wonder if that was a calculated decision on Tucker’s part. I wonder if Colonel Becker has designated me as more valuable than my uncle. Technically, I have a Ph.D. and Liam has a masters degree, so I may have more aerospace-specific knowledge and research experience. But Liam has been in the Air Force longer and outranks me. I have no idea how Colonel Becker would choose between us if he had to. Or how he did choose, if that’s what has already happened. I don’t want Liam to be on the B-team. If given the chance, I’d take his place and put myself on second string so Liam could be safer on the first. I want to protect my uncle. He is getting older. I’m younger and stronger. I want to keep Liam safe to pay him back for all the years he’s taking such good care of me. Then again, for all we know, Liam is considered a more valuable asset and his division is the one calculated to be safer. It’s all too much.