Halsted stepped outside the CSH and watched as four step vans pulled up to one exit in an area obstructed from view from the rest of the base. He watched as the vans were backed up close to the building and the rear doors were opened. He re-entered the CSH and walked over to another exit and looked out a window to see two ambulances being backed into position. Several stretchers were set up on the floor of the hallway and medics were making it look like patients were lying on the stretchers. Back in the recovery ward, other medics were transferring Roman, Templeton, and the other injured soldiers to stretchers and strapping them down.
LT COL Hawkins and the medics in the hallway made quite a show of transferring the dummy laden stretchers to the ambulances. The drivers and "medics" in the ambulances were not medical personnel, but security forces personnel who understood they would probably be driving into an ambush. Once the "patients" were loaded, the ambulances pulled away from the CSH and headed for the base's main gate. Three up-armored HUMVEEs and four Mine Resistant Ambush Protected (MRAP) vehicles took up positions ahead and behind the ambulances to escort them to Bagram Airfield.
Halsted watched as Roman and his personnel were loaded into the step vans. He climbed into the van carrying Roman, Cortez, and a couple of other personnel. Once everyone was loaded into the vans, Halsted gave the go ahead to drive to a well-guarded helipad on the other side of the base. The vans took different routes and were clandestinely shadowed by security personnel in up-armored HUMVEEs. Ten minutes later, each van pulled up next to a waiting Black Hawk helicopter and the patients, LT Cortez, and COL Halsted were quickly transferred into the choppers.
The vans pulled away and the rotors of the four helicopters began turning. Once up to speed, the Black Hawks lifted into the air! In the distance, six AH-64 Apache attack helicopters rose into the air to assume a loose perimeter around the Black Hawks. The helicopters turned and began their short journey to Bagram Airfield and the C-17 medevac flight waiting there.
Thirty minutes later, the three Black Hawks landed on Bagram Airfield just a short distance from the C-17. Once the rotors stopped, medics from Bagram's hospital and the C-17 raced forward to transfer the injured into the C-17. Each patient's stretcher was anchored inside the cargo bay of the large aircraft and a medic checked each patient carefully.
COL Halsted walked with MAJ Roman as he was he was carried into the C-17. As Roman's stretcher was being anchored, Halsted's radio beeped for his attention. He listened carefully, acknowledged the transmission, and put his radio back in its holster. Halsted turned to Roman and said, "That was the decoy convoy. They were attacked about 7 klicks out. Our team killed 6 of the enemy, captured 4, and only had 2 casualties with minor injuries. Two the captured combatants are known officers in General Hataki's command. That should provide me the evidence with HQ to nail him and his people to the wall and get the 'powers-that-be' off your back."
As the last injured soldier was secured, Halsted placed his right hand on Roman's shoulder. "Look, Marcus...you get your head clear. Imperator and I will smooth things over. We'll be in touch." Halsted snapped to attention, saluted his friend, then turned and walked down the ramp. The cargo master and her crew began the process of closing the ramp and personnel doors. Moments later, the aircraft was sealed and ready for flight.
LT Teresa Cortez took a seat near MAJ Roman, reached over, and took one of his hands in hers. As they held hands and spoke to each other of the future, the C-17 engines began to turn. Soon, it taxied out to the runway and, once clearance was given, began to accelerate. The nose rotated and the C-17 leaped into the air on its journey to Germany.
Chapter 3
Major Marcus Roman spent very little time in the Landstuhl RMC. In a matter of a few days, his eyesight and hearing were back to normal and he was put on light duty pending the investigation into his actions in Afghanistan. Roman's injured personnel were not as lucky. Each required more extensive surgery and care, first in Landstuhl RMC and then later at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. Roman and Cortez took the opportunity to take some leave and travel around the countryside for a few days.
The time off helped Marcus make his decision about whether or not to stay in the Army. Teresa made the same decision for herself and they arranged to be rotated home for discharge at Fort Huachuca in Sierra Vista, Arizona, not far from the Roman Family Ranch. For once, the Army processed their transfers quickly and, soon, Marcus and Teresa were saying goodbye to the members of Roman's Legion who were still in Landstuhl. Scant hours later, the couple was in the air and winging their way back to the States.
The Roman Family met Marcus and Teresa at Tucson International Airport. Marcus introduced Teresa to his parents, Titus Augustus (Major General, U.S. Army, retired) and Marion Roman. The elder Romans took an immediate liking to the young lady and told Marcus so when Teresa left to visit the restroom.
After stopping for dinner at one of the family's favorite restaurants in South Tucson, Titus and Marion drove Marcus and Teresa out to Fort Huachuca. The gate guards snapped to attention and saluted as they saw two-star retiree sticker on the window of Titus' SUV. Titus stopped and returned the salute and chatted with the guards for a moment. After sharing a laugh with the guards, Titus pointed out that he and Marion frequently came to "Fort Watch" to visit old friends and visit the Officers Club. Thus, they were familiar with most of the gate guards.
They drove onto the base and over to the Personnel Center. While Marcus and Teresa checked in, the elder Romans drove over to the Post Exchange to make some purchases. They returned to the PC a couple of hours later to pick up the younger couple.
"Where to?" Titus asked.
"Bachelor Officers Quarters, sir! We've got about a week of out processing to do and they've set us up with quarters there for now," said Teresa. At the BOQ, the two couples carried Marcus' and Teresa's baggage to their rooms. Afterward, they drove over to the club for a snack and a drink. Later, Titus and Marion dropped Marcus and Teresa back at the BOQ and began their 30 mile drive home to the Roman Ranch.
The following morning, Marcus and Teresa reported to the PC to begin their out processing. Some appointments they could make together, others they couldn't. The days ticked by and the young couple spent their meal times planning their immediate futures. Teresa wanted to spend some time in her hometown of Sedona in Arizona's Verde Valley after her discharge. She wanted to visit her grandparents, who had raised her after her parents were killed in a car accident. Ernesto and Isabel Cortez were in their late 70s and not in the best of health and thus had not been able to come see her in Tucson.
Finally, their last day arrived. They signed their last piece of paperwork, turned in their active duty ID cards, and received their Reserve ID cards. As they left the PC, Titus and Marion were waiting for them in the parking lot. Their bags were already packed and in the SUV. With no fanfare, they all climbed into the SUV and drove from the fort.
Titus and Marion had convinced Teresa to come to the ranch for the evening and even offered her one of the family's vehicles for her trip to Sedona. Later, at the Roman Ranch, Marcus and Teresa changed into some comfortable civilian clothes. Marcus gave his young lady a tour around the main part of the ranch to include the main ranch house, the patio area, ranch staff quarters, barns, and corrals. Teresa was duly impressed!
That evening, Titus, Marion, and the ranch staff threw a big barbeque to welcome Marcus home. Teresa was further impressed by the number of staff and the sense of family they shared with one another. When Marcus described how Teresa had saved his life and the lives of his teammates in Afghanistan, she received a rousing, standing ovation from everyone. Throughout the evening, people would step up to her and thank her personally for bringing Marcus home to his family. Later that night, she snuck down the hallway to Marcus' room and slid into bed with her man.
The following morning, Marcus loaded some of Teresa's bags into his well-maintained, classic '69 Mustang Fastback. They shared an intense kiss and embrace, then she climbed behind
the wheel and drove off. Marcus watched until she was out of sight, then joined his parents by the pool.
"I suppose you want to know what happened?" he asked them dejectedly.
Titus knew his son wasn't really ready to talk about it yet. He smiled and held up a hand. "Son, if you are ready to talk, then do so. If not, then your mother and I can wait until you are. My suggestion is to take some time to relax and get used to being home again. When you're ready, we'll talk." Marcus smiled at his parents, patted his father's shoulder and kissed his mother's cheek.
"Well, then...I think I'm going to go for a ride," he told them then turned to walk towards the corral. As he approached the corral, Hank Eberle, the ranch foreman, was just finishing the job of saddling Marcus' favorite horse, Brutus. "Ah, Hank, did Dad call you?"
"Nah, Marcus," the old wrangler said, "I know you as well as I'd know any kid of my own...if I had any that is. I figured as soon as your young lady got on the road, you'd want to take ol' Brutus here out for a ride."
Marcus shared a laugh with the older man who had been a part of his life for so many years. Then he carefully checked his horse and tack for any problems. Not that Hank would miss anything but because that is what Hank had taught him to do. Climbing into the saddle, he saw the look of approval on Hank's face.
"Hank, what's with the rifle and pistol?" Marcus asked.
Hank nodded before answering. "Things have gotten pretty bad around here lately, kid. We've got coyotes running illegals through here and all up and down the border. And there've been a few incidents between the illegals and local folk. In fact, Chico and I plan to ride along with you...at a discreet distance if you'd like. But it ain't safe to ride out there by yourself, even if it is your ranch!"
Marcus leaned against the saddle horn to look more closely at Hank. "That bad?"
"Worse!" Hank said with some anger in his voice. "Your father has lodged complaint after complaint; rounded up those he's found on the ranch and turned 'em over to the sheriff or Border Patrol. All he gets is lip service from His Excellency Quill the Quisling's Administration. The only reason they haven't moved against your father is his high level of influence in Arizona and in the military."
"Have they found the cabin?" Marcus asked, referring to a very special place he shared with his father and friends over the years.
"No...not yet. After crossing the Mexican desert, they don't seem to want to spend much time in the mountains," said Hank. "They head towards meeting places with the coyotes in the low lands on this side of the border to get them into the cities."
"Good!" said Marcus. "Maybe Dad and I can take a trip up to the cabin for a few days."
Hank nodded, "It'd do ya both good!" He finished checking his horse and tack then mounted the animal. "Come on, boy! Race ya to the gate. That's where Chico's waitin' for us!" Hank turned his horse with the reins and dug some spur, bolting forward...Marcus and Brutus following a split second behind.
Meeting up with Chico Ramirez, the trio turned south at the main gate to the ranch house complex and road out into the desert. The hooves of the three horses pounded the ground and miles melted away behind them. An hour later they reined up at what had once been an adobe-walled settler's house. Now the roof was collapsed, its windows no longer held glass, and the front door lay on the floor inside.
The men dismounted and walked their horses to a small watering hole east of the house. Chico took Brutus' reins to allow Marcus to walk to the old house. Chico and Hank shared a look. Many years before, a much younger Marcus had run away from home. He'd carefully packed his saddlebags with supplies and wound up here. Hank had found him asleep in the old house, safe for the time being and followed Titus' orders to let the boy be, so long as he was safe. The Roman Ranch hands took turns watching over young Marcus and three days later, the boy rode home and apologized to his parents.
Hank knew that this place, like the cabin in the mountains was one of Marcus' touchstones to his boyhood and home. The young man had plenty to think about and the sooner he felt at home, the sooner he would come to terms with his problems. The boy was like his father that way.
They waited until the horses had had their fill and cooled down then looped westward before turning back to the ranch house. As they rode past the house, Titus called his wife's attention to the smile on their boy's face. Bit by bit, Marcus Aurelius Roman, former Major, U.S. Special Forces was coming home. That evening at dinner Marcus asked his father if they might go up to the cabin soon. Titus smiled and replied, "That sounds great, son! Give me a couple of days to clear my desk and we'll do that. How about you and Hank get our gear together?"
**********
Two mornings later, Titus was sitting out on the patio when his Marcus rode up on Brutus, leading three of the ranch's large, thoroughbred horses. Without saying a word, Marcus handed Titus the reins to one of the horses. "C'mon, Dad...let's ride!"
Titus rose to his feet and moved into position to mount the saddle. He got his left foot into the stirrup and swung himself up onto the horse. Titus turned his horse around and urged it forward. Marcus swung his horse around to follow.
They rode westward out upon their range, toward the high mountains. They rode for some time, not talking just enjoying their time together. As the sun rose high in the sky, Marcus suddenly realized he'd forgotten to bring a hat. He sensed his father pull up alongside and hold one of Marcus' old baseball caps out to him. Marcus chuckled as he realized his father was, as always, on top of things. They round on into the low mountains that butted up against their property.
At noon, they stopped in the shade of some trees along a small stream to rest their horses. Marcus and his father dismounted and walked around a bit to shake off any stiffness. Titus Roman passed a bag of homemade jerky and a canteen of water over to his son. They ate quietly enjoying the bubbling of the stream and the cool breeze through the trees. About 30 minutes later, Titus walked over to the horses and Marcus followed. Back in their saddles, they rode quietly along the stream as it wound its way up into the mountains.
A couple of hours later, they reached the spring and pool that fed the stream. There the walls of the canyon formed a wide bowl with few trees. Over the years, Marcus and his father had spent parts of many of his father's leaves building a small cabin in the clearing just above the pool. They had deepened the pool by building a low dam at the eastern end of bowl.
The mountains around them were covered with fallen or dead trees, dried by years in the Arizona desert. With their horses, they had pulled many of these trees to the clearing. With axes, hand saws, and chain saws, they had cut and trimmed the trees into thick, squared timbers. They laid beams across sandstone piers, then laid the floor of the cabin. A hand drill prepared the holes for large nails, spikes really, to anchor the timbers. They laid and anchored the timbers to form the four walls then used the chain saws to cut doors and windows were they wanted them.
The front wall was taller than the sides and rear allowing them to build a sloped roof. Initially, it was covered by a tarp, but over the years, Titus and Marcus had cut and planed sufficient planking to cover the roof. Later, they installed glass windows and sheets of roofing tin, delivered by a friend who was a helicopter pilot. With each visit, they had improved the cabin, even building a small corral for their horses to replace the crude brush boma they had used previously. The summer before leaving for West Point, Marcus had ridden his horse to the cabin and spent a week there by himself.
Once inside the corral, Titus and Marcus dismounted, removed their horses' saddles, bridles, and blankets then brushed and combed the animals. While Marcus finished caring for the horses, Titus carried their saddle bags and horse blankets into the cabin then opened the cabin's shutters and windows to air the place out. After finishing with the horses, Marcus picked up two buckets and walked over to the pool. It took several trips to fill the trough in the corral with fresh water for the horses. When Marcus entered the single room of the cabin, he saw that someone had recently bro
ught up a variety of camping equipment and supplies.
"MREs or fresh fish?" asked Titus, holding up two MRE packages in one hand and two fishing rods in the other. Marcus had to smile again, Dad knows me pretty well! Marcus reached into a cubby hole and pulled out a small tackle box and jerked his head towards the pool outside. Titus set the MREs on the cabin's sole table and followed his son back outside.
Over the years, Titus and Marcus had worked with the Arizona Fish and Game Department to stock and maintain the pool and stream with trout and other water life suitable for the environment. The pool could provide sufficient fresh fish for a short visit by two people or a longer visit by one.
Titus stepped over to an fallen and rotten tree trunk and drew his old combat knife from it scabbard. He used it to chip away some of the remaining bark. In the exposed wood pulp beneath, he found several grub worms. Titus brought them back to where Marcus had sat upon a boulder overlooking the pool.
Father and son baited their hooks and cast them out into the pool. They sat quietly occasionally reeling in their hooks and bobbers, only to cast them out again. After several minutes, Titus saw his bobber sink. With an expert snap of his wrist, he set his hook in the fish's mouth then let the fish swim back and forth a few times before reeling it in. He carefully removed his hook from the fish's mouth and flipped the fish well up on the bank. Titus rebaited his hook and cast out again. He looked over to his son, grinned, and held up one finger. Marcus returned the smile...the challenge had been made.
Marcus reeled in then cast his hook and bobber to a point near where the spring flowed from the broken rock face and into the pool. From past trips, Marcus knew the fish liked the underwater hiding places that location provided. A couple of minutes later and Marcus' bobber dipped in the water. A snap of his wrist and the hook was set. Marcus reeled the fish in smoothly, removed the hook, and flipped the fish over his shoulder. He placed a fresh grub on his hook and cast his line into almost the same spot as last time. Titus whistled in appreciation of his son's casting skill. Suddenly, Marcus' bobber dipped again. Marcus repeated the process and landed another fish. After putting it with the others, Marcus flashed two fingers to his father.
The Arizona State Guard Trilogy Page 3