by Jack Terral
"That's a good idea up to a point," Carey opined. "But don't you think when the Iranians catch sight of three parachutes descending into the area they'll figure something special is happening?"
"The jump will be made at five hundred feet," Cruiser explained. "I'm hoping the chutes will not be spotted from the enemy positions, since a mountain range is between them and the LZ. Or the DZ in this case."
"I don't know," Carey said. "Exiting the aircraft at five hundred feet can be extremely risky."
Brannigan interrupted. "During our operation against the al-Mimkhalif fortress in the Yemen-Oman desert, that is exactly what we did. A jump altitude of five hundred feet will afford the jumpers a minimum time between the aircraft and the ground."
"Alright, Lieutenant," Carey said. "If you're not concerned, then I'm not concerned."
Puglisi spoke up with a silly grin on his face. "Hell! If you want minimum time between the aircraft and the ground, don't use parachutes."
"Shut up, Puglisi!" Brannigan snapped.
"Aye, sir!"
Cruiser continued, "When we receive the all clear from the recon team, the Air Force chopper will go in. We'll disembark bag and baggage and move into our fighting positions to get the show on the road."
"I'm glad you came up with the recon idea," Carey said. "That hadn't occurred to me. It sounds like you guys should be able to make a smooth infiltration."
"Right," Berringer agreed. "Our intel says the place is empty, but it's wise to check it out before committing a deployment."
Cruiser sat down, and Brannigan stood to give the organizational portion of the briefback. "We have three officers, two chief petty officers, and thirty-six petty officers for a total of forty-one guys. I've set up a headquarters for command, commo, medical, and special tasks. My Headquarters will be Gomez as RTO and Bradley as corpsman. Puglisi and Miskoski make up the Sniper Team, with each toting his own A-fifty sniper rifle. We will assign them spotters when possible. A special Patrol Team for recon and combat patrolling will be utilized, with Petty Officer Concord as the leader. His personnel will be Assad, Matsuno, Redhawk, and Leibowitz."
Carey was curious. "Were there special qualifications for assignment to the Patrol Team?"
"Yes, sir," Brannigan answered. "Assad, Leibowitz, and Redhawk have already demonstrated their skills in this area during past operations. Lieutenant Cruiser personally recommended Matsuno."
"I agree, sir," Senior Chief Dawkins said. "I've been on operations with him before, and he is from a Japanese-American background, where he did some serious study of ninja techniques. He's damn good at sneakin' and peekin'."
"Seem excellent choices then," Carey said.
"The rest of the detachment is going to be broken down into three assault sections. These will be commanded by the two officers and a senior chief. Each of them will have a SAW gunner tagging along with him. The rest of the section consists of two fire teams of a team leader, rifleman, and grenadier."
"What about the guys that are left over?" Berringer inquired.
"That's the Fire Support Section, sir," Brannigan replied. "Chief Gunnarson will honcho three M-sixty machine guns. Each will have a gunner and a rifleman who will also be the ammo bearer."
The next speaker was PO2C Frank Gomez, who gave the commo portion of the briefback. "All the gear will remain the same as on Operation Rolling Thunder, sir. I will use my Shadowfire for long-range commo, while everyone will tote AN/PRC-one-twenty-six radios with LASH headsets. Call signs are Brigand Boss for Headquarters, Hit Man for the Sniper Team, and Sneaky Pete for the Patrol Team. Brigand One will be for the First Assault Section, with the others being Brigand Two and Three, respectively. The fire support will be Brigand Four. All the fire teams will use their designations. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and so on."
Hospital Corpsman Doc Bradley came forward for the medical side of the operation. "We're in good shape with personal medical kits that have the usual battle dressing, Ace bandages, et cetera. This also includes codeine, morphine, and the array of sedatives, stimulants, and pills for normal sickness that occurs in the field. I'm planning on setting up a treatment station in one of the bunkers. And I'll have my field surgical kit for the big hurts. I've checked everyone's shot records, and they're up to date. The LZ will be used for medevac. So, medically speaking, we're ready to go."
"Sounds good," Carey remarked. "Next!"
PO2C Bruno Puglisi represented the weapons and ammo side of the operation. "All the guys is gonna be packing issue Beretta nine-millimeter auto pistols in drop holsters. "The headquarters weenies--"
Mike Assad interrupted, saying, "Who're you calling headquarters weenies?"
"The headquarters section," Puglisi replied. "Who else? And remember I'm in headquarters too. Being called a weenie just goes with the territory."
"Stick to the briefback!" Senior Chief Dawkins snarled.
"Right, Chief," Puglisi said. "So, as I was saying before that rude interruption, the elite personnel of headquarters, along with the section commanders, fire team leaders, riflemen, and machine gun crews will tote M-sixteens. The grenadiers is gonna have the same along with M-two-oh-three grenade launchers. And, as the Skipper said in his organization spiel, we'll have three M-sixty machine gun crews. The SAW gunners will be packing their M-two-forty-nines, as can be expected. We can have all the ammo we want, so I laid in for plenty.
Also, the load will include a couple of flare guns and a crate of smoke grenades for signaling on the LZ, since we'll be depending on aerial resupply."
"You've nailed it, Petty Officer Puglisi," Carey said. "Also keep in mind that because of the static situation, you'll have no trouble obtaining additional weaponry and ammunition."
That pleased Brannigan. "Great, sir! I'm thinking there's a possibility we'll be needing some mortars to soften up enemy positions for any big pushes."
"I'll see that some are available for immediate use," Carey promised. "Okay. Who's next?"
SCPO Buford Dawkins stepped forward. "Our organizational and personal supply situation is excellent, sir. I ran an inventory on every swinging dick and they were standing tall. We have everything we need, including additional night vision apparatus. Enough night vision binoculars have arrived that each section commander and team leader will be issued one. That also includes the Skipper, Patrol Team, and Sniper Team."
"Now, there's a pleasant surprise," Berringer said. "I wasn't aware of that."
"What about creature comforts at your base camp?" Carey asked. "I'm talking about ergonomics."
"Well, sir," Dawkins said, "the guys will be well off with plenty of room. We're starting out with MREs, but if circumstances permit, Randy Tooley said he could arrange for some cookpots, pans, and hot chow from the mess hall from time to time."
"Randy Tooley?" Carey said. "Isn't he that weird little guy who drives around in the DPV?" He looked at Brannigan. "That reminds me. You were supposed to submit a report about that DPV that was lost in action. The Army S-four at Station Bravo has been bugging the hell out of me about it."
"Right, sir," Brannigan said. "I've got the first draft done. I just need to tweak it a bit."
"Get it to me PDQ!"
"Aye, sir!"
Carey glanced at Berringer. "Do you have anything to add, Ernie?"
"Negative, sir," Berringer replied. "It sounds complete to me."
"I agree," Carey said, standing. He gestured to Brannigan. "Turn it into an OPORD. You'll depart Shelor Field tomorrow morning."
.
ZAHEYA POSITIONS
1330 HOURS
MAJOR Arsalaan Sikes--known as Sikes Pasha by his men-finished off the last of the Iranian field ration. The food was canned in this case, and he had grown weary of the various soups the menus offered. The canned bread wasn't too bad, but the cheese spread that came with it was more than an Englishman's palate could stand. He longed for the varieties offered in the dehydrated chow available in Western armies.
He sat outside in front of his b
unker, gazing down at the maze of trenches that made up the defenses of the base. He could see his second-in-command, Warrant Officer Shafaqat Hashiri, walking slowly down the line, inspecting the men on duty. Sikes grinned when he saw the veteran soldier give a dressing down to one of the Storm Troopers. The Brit had sharpened the men up from the time he commanded the armored car company at the Chehaar Garrison near the salt swamps farther south. Now, thanks to a fearful drubbing by Americans, they were an infantry unit. But they still demonstrated a marked fighting spirit, and responded well to discipline.
"Sikes Pasha!"
He looked up the path at the sound of his name, and saw Captain Naser Khadid of the Iranian Special Forces approaching. Sikes lifted a hand in a gesture of greeting. "Out for a stroll?"
Khadid shook his head as he walked up and took a seat on the ground. "Brigadier Khohollah wanted me to drop by to see how your Arabs are doing."
Sikes gestured downward. "They're 'standing to,' as is said in the British Army."
"The Brigadier is extremely pleased to note how well you have trained them,"
Khadid said. "He is particularly pleased that their morale has remained high in spite of the previous setbacks. I thought you might be interested in the fact he speaks highly of you to others."
"That's always nice to know, ain't it?" Sikes remarked, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. He offered one to Khadid and took one himself. "Them lads o' mine are damn good, no doubt. Good thing for them they're here, ain't it? If they was back in Iraq, they'd prob'ly all been sent to blow themselves up as suicide bombers by now."
"Indeed," Khadid said, lighting a match to serve both of them. "That is the one thing my government wanted to stop. That was the driving force behind the concept of Iranian control over all Shiite insurgencies."
"Here now, Naser," Sikes said. "I ain't completely stupid, y'know, hey? You Iranians want to own the whole bluddy Middle East. Even I figgered that out though nobody sat me down and actually said it."
Khadid looked at him carefully. "How do you feel about that, Sikes Pasha?"
"I got no problems with it," Sikes said. "I'm a major in the bluddy Iranian Army, ain't I? So when this all happens, I'll be sitting pretty." He took a drag off the cigarette and slowly exhaled. "But I'm a bit confused about this here operation, know what I mean then?"
"What is bothering you?"
"Aw, there ain't nothing bothering me, but I can't quite figger out what we'll be accomplishing here, hey?" Sikes said. "What if we win? What if we lose?"
"Although there are not many troops here, this is an important operation," Khadid said. "For both sides. Our objective, of course, is to get a good foothold in Afghanistan, then have large units of the Iranian Army follow up to occupy our conquered area. A victory on our part will bring Yama Orakzai and his band back to us. When that happens, more Pashtuns will rally to our cause. Afghanistan will be completely dominated by Iran within six months."
"Then what in the bluddy hell are we waiting for, hey?" Sikes asked. "There ain't a single, solitary Yank across that valley sitting in Orakzai's old stronghold. All we got to do is make our way over there and it's ours."
Khadid shook his head. "The Americans would simply contain us there, then push us back here. What we must do is defeat them here as they attack us, understand? In the meantime, do not forget that more and more Shiite Arabs are joining our ranks. If we can keep the infidels occupied long enough, we shall have a strong force."
"Alright," Sikes relented. "I'll take yer word for it. Tell the Brigadier that me Arab Storm Troopers are ready to fight."
Khadid stood up. "He will be glad to know he can depend on you, Sikes Pasha."
"Tell me, something, Naser," Sikes said. "Do you miss your Pashtun wife?" They had both entered temporary Muslim marriages with teenage Pashtun girls during the time they were stationed with Orakzai's people. When the leader pulled out to submit to the authority of the Afghanistan government, the marriages were ended. "I sure miss Banafsha."
"And I long for Mahzala's charms," Khadid said. "But we will be without women for a long time." He got to his feet. "I must go, Sikes Pasha. Good day."
"Ruz bekheyr,"Sikes said. "And tell the Brigadier that I'm working hard at learning me Farsi."
"You learned a lot of Arabic quite rapidly," Khadid said. "I am sure you will have an excellent working knowledge of Farsi within a few more weeks." He nodded a good-bye, then went back down the path.
Sikes settled back and lit another cigarette off the first. In truth, he didn't have that much faith in his Islamic brothers-inarms, but he had no choice but to stay with them. He would face years in a military prison if he returned to Blighty. He had cut himself off from his native land the moment he deserted and joined the enemy. But if the Iranians succeeded in their plans and really controlled the Middle East, he had much to gain.
His twenty-man Arab Storm Trooper detachment would eventually be expanded to division or perhaps even corps size as the Persian Empire began spreading outward. Brigadier Khohollah had once told him they would branch out to the east and south after conquering Afghanistan and Pakistan, swallowing up Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and Syria. After that came the destruction of Israel before continuing to scoop up other nations until the Great Army of the Empire of Persia was in Turkey, ready to invade Europe itself.
Sikes glanced down at his soldiers on duty in the trenches. They wore Iranian camouflage uniforms and keffiyeh headdresses, giving them an exotic yet fierce appearance. While he and Warrant Officer Hashiri wore Iranian insignia of rank, their noncommissioned officers wore British chevrons. Somehow, the sight of the familiar badges made Sikes feel more confident.
He finished the cigarette and flipped it over into a stand of rocks. God! How he would love to go down to his favorite pub in Manchester for a few pints with his old mates.
CHAPTER 3
SEAL OA
9 JUNE 0625 HOURS
THE Afghan pilot who flew the Huey chopper was good at his job. He had made countless insertions of U. S. Army Special Forces teams into combat situations all over Afghanistan, and instinctively reacted to every aspect of the parachute insertion.
Now, as he swung his aircraft along the proper azimuth over the DZ/LZ, he made note of the wind by studying the directions of the dust clouds being kicked up at ground level. He swung farther away from the western edge of the area to give the three jumpers in his troop compartment more space. However, he knew at that low altitude it probably didn't make much difference. They were headed for a very short trip between aircraft and terra firma. The pilot sincerely hoped it wouldn't be too quick.
Mike Assad, Dave Leibowitz, and Garth Redhawk sat on the deck, their legs dangling out of the aircraft. Mike was the jumpmaster, and he waited until he was certain they were in the middle of the flat area designated for the DZ and LZ. When he was satisfied, he pushed himself out. The down-blast from the rotors pressed him hard, and he turned to his side slightly as he rushed earthward. He could see Dave and Garth at slightly different altitudes above him. Suddenly his canopy opened and two beats later he hit the ground hard, unable to make a decent PLF. Pain shot through his legs up into his lower back, but when he got to his feet he was sore but obviously had suffered no serious injury.
After hitting the quick-release box, his harness dropped to the ground and he retrieved his M-16 rifle. A moment later Mike and Garth walked up to him, both limping slightly.
"Shit!" Garth said. "I don't know why they bothered to give us parachutes."
"I think we ought to have a rule in the SEALs," Mike said. "From now on, low-altitude jumps from choppers will be performed by officers only."
"Good idea," Dave said. "Be sure and mention that suggestion to the Secretary of the Navy."
"That'll be the first thing I'll do the next time he calls me up for some advice," Mike said. "Alright! Dave will take the point, and Garth, you're the Tail-End Charlie. Let's go check this place out."
The three trekked westward for som
e fifty meters before finding a trail. It led downward toward the area they were to occupy, and the patrol moved gingerly, keeping on the alert. The photoreconnaissance that showed it unoccupied was forty-eight hours old, and a lot could have happened during the passing of two days.
It was a short fifteen-minute walk down to the area that was obviously the site where the Pashtuns had lived when they inhabited the locale. The SEALs went into the nearest cave, pausing for a moment. "These'll make great bunkers," Mike remarked. "I'll check out this first one." As soon as Garth and Dave were ready to cover him, Mike rushed in with his M-16 ready. The place was empty and also very clean and swept out. Further investigation along the mountainside revealed the same in all the grottoes.
"Them Pashtuns are neat freaks, ain't they?" Mike remarked.
"Y'know," Dave said, "I think this place could pass inspection from the senior chief."
"Are you shitting me?" Garth said. "Dawkins would gig an operating room."
"There's another path," Mike said. "Let's check it out."
The lower level had more caves and some small stone houses. Three mountain springs in the near vicinity produced streams of cold, clear water that gave more favorable indication of the livability of the place. When the SEALs turned their attention to the dwellings, they found clay baking ovens. Countless fires had turned them brick hard, while scorching the interiors to a deep charcoal black. Dave was thoughtful for a moment. "All this orderliness means only one thing. Those people were planning on coming back here someday."
"I think you're right," Mike said. "Well, let's check out the defensive features of our new neighborhood. Then we better hotfoot it back to the LZ."
A short but efficient walk-around brought the discovery of several well-maintained fighting positions. The trio of SEALs gave each location a professional study. Garth stepped into one and looked around. "This place is solid as if it were carved out of rock. The camouflage is all dried out now, but it's easy to tell it was effective when fresh. Everything blends perfect with the surroundings."