by JL Curtis
Pacing the stage, Tony looked out at the audience, and waved at Sergi. “Sergi was brought in through Interpol and was instrumental in getting us assistance from the Baltic nations. This allowed us to get a focal intel follow on the ship of interest to its final rendezvous with small boats off Hanku, Finland and the final port of Helsinki. Since then, Sergi and I have cooperated through Interpol on six other cases. The cowboy and I picked up the trucks and small boats used to deliver the product and slaves into Albania, Yugoslavia, and finally ending in Skopje, Macedonia. I would like to now turn the floor over to the cowboy. John, please take over.”
The old man got up and gave a précis of the article, delving into the similarities observed in the way the smugglers set up their vehicles and/or ships. He also talked to the apparent international spread of very similar plans for adding concealment and spaces, which they believed were probably based on the cartels’ reach into international crime. He saw a lot of heads in the audience nodding and mentioned they would be doing a breakout session in the afternoon on just that.
Sergi and Tony both discussed specific cases they had each worked on. Finally, they opened the floor to questions, most of which revolved around key points for determining whether there were cues that could be centralized and passed via Interpol in a more timely fashion. The German and French representatives both wanted to go into more detail, and Tony agreed to sidebar them after lunch.
***
After lunch in the cafeteria, Tony took the old man and Sergi around the training center, the old man perked up when he heard gunshots, and Tony said, “Oh, yes, we do firearms training here in the training center. Would you like to see it? Never mind, that needs no answer. Come on.”
Taking them into the indoor range, they stood behind the bulletproof glass and watched as various shooters fired on the line. An instructor came out and a short conversation ensued in Italian with Tony; who turned to Sergi and the old man. “Anybody want to shoot? We have time to kill.”
Sergi shrugged, and the old man answered, “Well, I don’t have anything but self-defense ammo loaded. I didn’t bring any training ammo.”
“Your 1911?” Tony asked.
The old man nodded, prompting another spate of Italian between Tony and the instructor. The instructor disappeared back into the office spaces and came back a few minutes later with a box of Winchester Cartridge Company .45 ammo. He handed it to the old man with a smile, as the old man looked at it in amazement. “Grazi Senor. Tony, this is a piece of history! This stuff has to be forty-fifty years old, if it’s a day.” Pulling a FMJ round out he shook it and heard the powder rattle, so he assumed it would probably still shoot. “Ah, hell, I’ll shoot it, if I get to keep the rest of the box,” he said with a smile.
Tony laughed. “Sure. Let’s go in.” He led them into the outer room and everyone put on ear and eye protection, then at a nod from the instructor, continued through the sound trap onto the actual range. The instructor pointed them down to the three lanes on the left and stood behind them as the old man cleared his 1911 and dumped the mag to reload with the old ammo. Sergio had brought his service weapon, a Sig Sauer, so he was perusing the duty locker for training ammunition for the same reason. Sergi dumped his mag also and reloaded with training ammo, then stepped to the line next to the old man.
The old man looked around. “Confirm hot range?” Tony spoke to the instructor and gave the old man a thumb’s up. The old man looked around, ensured the range was clear and nodded to Sergi, who started shooting at a silhouette at about seven meters. The old man stepped slightly to the side and proceeded to put eight rounds down range then safed the 1911 and placed it on the bench. He looked at the controls but couldn’t figure out how to bring the target in, so he waved Tony over.
Tony stepped in and started the next seven-meter target in, when the old man pointed to the twenty-five meter target. Tony just shook his head and started that one back also, as the instructor assisted Sergi in getting his target back. Sergi smiled as he looked at his target, having put all the rounds in the black and the instructor nodded, giving him a thumbs up. The old man’s twenty-five yard target finally made it back to the line, and the old man pulled it down without any fanfare. Tony reached over and took it, then whistled as he saw all eight rounds in about a five-inch spread in the head of the target.
The instructor looked at the target and he and Tony began a long exchange in Italian, leaving the old man and Sergi mystified. Finally, the instructor threw up his hands and stomped off, and Tony laughingly said, “Well, John, you have once again upset the applecart as you say. You have done better than he can do, and he’s supposed to be the best shot here. He did everything but accuse you of cheating, but I defended your honor and now I think we should leave if you don’t mind.”
Three More Days
Aaron walked into the Marine’s day room at FOB Apache. “All right, you guys knock off the horseplay,” Aaron said. “We’re not home yet. We’ve still got to complete the turnover. McKenzie, Parker, Doc Wells gear up. McKenzie, you’re in the GMV with me and your relief. Make sure you bring your GRG and get him up to speed on the area. Parker, you and Doc in the MRAP with your reliefs,”
“We going out with the full team?” McKenzie asked.
“Nah, this is a split team patrol, key team and reliefs,” Aaron replied. “Standard formation, ANA up front, ANP following them then the MRAP with the special people-”
The team laughed at that as Doc and Parker shot everybody the bird in response. “And we’ll be tail end charlie in the GMV. The rest of you boneheads will be QRF, along with the 82nd guys,” Aaron continued.
After a quick briefing in the TOC, Aaron and Gunny Wendeloski stood chatting about procedures. Wendeloski asked, “Aaron you want to stay back since you’ve gotten the call from Jesse on the pregnancy?”
Aaron thought about it for a beat. “Why don’t you take over watch for this patrol from the TOC? I’ll take Staff Sergeant Johnson and Sergeant Bevins, so Bevins can get a driver familiarization on the area, and we can swap off on the next ones.” Staff Sergeant Sands came out with an updated brief for Aaron and callsigns for air units that would be in the area and available during their mission for McKenzie.
Mounting up, the MRAP and GMV pulled into the main part of the FOB and waited for the ANA technical to come around. A couple of minutes later, they pulled up to the gate, and Aaron marveled yet again at how hardy the guys were. He only saw one jacket among the eight of them crammed in the back of the Toyota, and that was the lieutenant sitting in the front seat. After the gate was opened, the three vehicles pulled through and met the ANP technical at the ring road.
As the patrol rolled down the ring road, Aaron pointed out points of interest, roads and tracks and locations of previous interactions with the locals. Staff Sergeant Johnson took notes and his questions made it obvious he’d taken the time to study the turnover documents. As they turned off onto the track leading to the village, Aaron initiated a comm check with the TOC and each vehicle in the patrol. Confirming he had good comms, he told the ANP technical to continue and reminded everyone to be alert. Turning to McKenzie he asked, “You ready?”
McKenzie nodded as he and his relief huddled over the communications and laptop mounted in the corner of the GMV. Sergeant Adkins nodded from his position on the .50 caliber Ma Deuce in what was jokingly called “the tub.” It was the armored turret the gunner rode in that had 360 degrees of visibility and protected the gunners from most fire. Aaron continued, “This village runs hot and cold, we’ve never been really hit hard here, but we’ve taken sniping about every other trip. There’s only one street, if you want to call it that, that you can actually get an MRAP down. There is a little bazaar at the far end of the village where we set up MEDCAPs. That kinda limits us to a known route, but the other streets are too small for anything more than a technical, if that. The Taliban are gearing up and starting to move out according to intel, so the bigger worry is up on the ring road at the juncti
on going into Turkmenistan, but we still have to get out into these little villages to present a show of force and cooperation with the ANA and ANP.”
“How many incidents have y’all had?” Johnson asked. “Any major ones?”
Aaron replied, “Probably one a patrol on the average. The only time they seem to not hit us is when we’re doing a MEDCAP. The worst one was the village down south of here, where Gunny Mayhew got hit in both legs while he was guiding a GMV out of a little ambush. ”
“What about the MRAPs?”
Aaron shrugged. “They can pretty much bull their way out, but they’re going to tear the hell out of the village. Not happy making. And some of the villages they can’t even get into, that’s something y’all need to know. Most of these places you’re not going to be able to depend on the driver to back out of a situation, it’s too damn tight. You’re going to have to dismount somebody to guide ‘em out.”
As they topped the small rise, Aaron called to the ANP technical and asked them to stop for a few minutes. He then pointed out the salient issues with the village. Pointing out the specific compounds, he cross referenced them to the GRG, especially ones where they had searched and found either weapons or possible Taliban soldiers. McKenzie had his relief get a radio check and establish comms with the A-10s that were coming on station.
Confirming they were ten minutes out, Aaron decided to wait five more minutes before starting down into the village proper. Johnson commented on how poor the village appeared, and Aaron told him this was one of the better and more prosperous ones. Giving him descriptions of this one compared to the others took a few minutes. Glancing at his watch, he called the ANP technical and told them to advance.
Adkins positioned the Ma Deuce straight ahead and started scanning as they approached the first compounds, using his higher position to let Aaron and Johnson know what he was seeing. Aaron reminded him that the average income over here was less than two thousand dollars a year and a beat up old truck was a luxury. Paint was almost a non-existent on the exteriors, and what little they saw was chipping or rusting through. The smell of burning wood was heavy and most of the places had no electricity or running water, relying on wells and if they were lucky, power an hour or two a day. As usual, the entry gates were closed and probably locked, especially on the outlying compounds. Many of them appeared abandoned, but Aaron reminded Johnson they were all occupied. Aaron also observed the remote mini-gun on the MRAP start cycling left and right.
Looking back at McKenzie, he got a thumb’s up from him, and turned to Johnson. “Okay, you take right, I’ll take left. Make sure the SAW is loose and the pintle isn’t binding. That’s a huge problem if your guys don’t clean them after every patrol. And if we start taking fire from the left, don’t get distracted. Maintain your sector.”
Johnson replied, “Will do, Gunny.”
As they eased into the village, the tension went up markedly. McKenzie said, “Gunny, I’m not seeing a lot of folks out. Usually a few kids start chasing us by now.”
Aaron keyed the radio. “Everybody head’s up. It’s too quiet.”
All the vehicles responded, and the ANP technical slowed down. They came over the radio, saying they could see something in the street in front of them, and they were checking it out. The hair on the back of Aaron’s neck started standing up and he said, “McKenzie, get the QRF mounted up. Something isn’t right.”
McKenzie got on the radio to the TOC and the TOC immediately came back wanting to know what was going on. At the same time the ANP technical came on the radio saying it looked like kids had been digging in the street and they were proceeding since there was no way to back the convoy out of the village.
Johnson asked, “Gunny, how much further?”
“Maybe a hundred meters to the far end of the village,” Aaron said. There’s an alley coming up on your right, keep an eye on it.”
“Roger.”
They passed the alley and Aaron snuck a look, confirming it was empty. As he turned back, he heard McKenzie say, “Video up from the A-10s-”
The rest was drowned out by gunfire erupting at the front of the patrol, followed by either an RPG or an IED exploding with a thump. Screams sounded over the radio, and the mini-gun started its chain saw whine as the MRAP opened up to the left. Johnson yelled to Aaron, “What do we do?”
“Watch your sector!” Aaron shouted. Keying the radio he yelled at the MRAP to move, they replied that they couldn’t. Both the ANP and ANA technicals were in front of them and the drivers were apparently dead. Aaron shook his head in frustration, and said, “Okay, unass the guys in back. We’ll try to circle them.”
As he watched the aft hatch on the MRAP open he yelled to McKenzie, “Can the A-10 shoot?”
McKenzie shook his head. “No, too tight. Can’t spot targets in the smoke and I can’t see which compound to tell them to hit. I called in where I think they are to the TOC.”
“Fuck it,” Aaron replied. “Grab your M-4 and a radio. We’re gonna have to do this the hard way.” Slapping Adkins on the leg, he yelled, “Adkins, see if you can get him backed up out of the zone, then get the MRAP back. Don’t dismount. Do it from the tub!”
Grabbing the GRG from McKenzie, he looked at options. Aaron decided rather than try backtracking for seventy-five meters to try to come in behind the shooters, and possibly face booby traps and a probable ambush, they’d try the alley they’d just passed. Hitting them in the face just might put them off balance long enough for the QRF to get behind them in armor.
Adkins gave Aaron a thumb’s up, and as soon as Aaron and the others climbed out and stepped into the alley they’d just passed, he started talking the driver back. Aaron realized he only had five people until the rest of the team from the MRAP got into the alley, but he decided not to wait, knowing time was of the essence. Keying his radio on the TOC channel, he asked for the status on the QRF force, and was told they had just cleared the gate. ETA was fifteen minutes. Suddenly he heard the slow thumping of the Ma Deuce firing. Aaron stopped but there was nothing he could do now. If Adkins couldn’t handle it, he’d call for help. Aaron rogered the TOC call, then looked at the four Marines with him. “Okay, guys, we need to move. Spread out, standard maneuver here. The rest of the team can catch up with us. McKenzie, you’re tail end Charlie. Wait at the end of the alley until the others catch up then follow us west down the next street.”
Aaron turned and led them down the alley to the next street. Peeking around the corner, he saw that the narrow street was clear, and he started moving slowly up the street as the other three Marines took interval on him. After he’d gone about fifty feet, he looked back to see the rest of the Marines from the MRAP had joined the rear of the interval. Picking up the pace, he moved more quickly as the firing into the patrol continued. Just as he was about to cross another alley that branched deeper into the village, ten or twelve Taliban fighters spilled out of it directly into his path.
Momentarily startled, Aaron held his fire until he saw the AKs they were carrying, and then he started firing into them. It was up close and personal at less than fifteen feet, and Aaron had been just a tick quicker on the trigger. As he fired bursts at them, he saw their expressions as they died. As he continued servicing targets, his scan picked up an RPG, and he saw it being pointed at him. He shifted to the RPG shooter and put three rounds into his chest as he felt impacts on his vest. The RPG shooter started to fall, but he’d triggered the RPG and it jumped out of the tube, headed toward the ground. Aaron figured it was all over, and looked at the other Taliban as they started to fall, then he heard someone scream, “RPG!”
Aaron felt impacts on his left arm and left leg and started falling. Figuring he’d been shot in the leg or hit by the exploding RPG, he did a tucked roll and landed on his belly, continuing to fire into the massed Taliban. The remaining Marines got into the fight and in seconds the last two Taliban were down. He rolled over and propped himself up against the wall of a compound, but that exhausted him. He f
elt somebody over him, and squinted up to see McKenzie, panic on his face. He heard somebody calling for doc, but he couldn’t figure out who else had been hit. The smell of fresh blood almost overpowered the smell of gunpowder and voided bowels. He couldn’t figure out why he could still hear. The last time he’d been near an RPG blast, his ears had rung for an hour.
Aaron looked down and his left foot was pointing in the wrong direction, but he ignored it as Doc Wells put a tourniquet on his left leg and frantically looked to see if he had any other injuries. Finding one bullet hole through the sleeve of his MARPAT, Doc cut away the sleeve and breathed a sigh of relief that it was a through and through on the outside of the arm. Doc Wells yelled at McKenzie and the others that they needed to move Aaron back to the FOB.
Aaron stopped them, saying, “Fight’s still on. Doc and one stay here. Johnson, you’re in charge. Get McKenzie up there where he can see and call in the A-10. Mac, get up as high as you can, get a view and if they can do it, have the A-10 hit whatever GRG they can. The rest of you, stay low and hit your targets in the face. Maximum firepower, blow them out of the ambush if you can. And Mac, use the gun on the MRAP to keep their heads down until you’re ready.”
In a momentary lull, Aaron heard the roar of the MRAP apparently backing down the street trying to clear the ambush, and the mini-gun firing in shorter bursts. He could still hear screams so he assumed at least some of the ANP and ANA were still alive. Keying his radio on the team channel, he directed Johnson to break through one of the compounds, and try to drag any survivors into that compound. He flipped back to the TOC and heard the QRF calling they were five minutes out and wanting a status. As he started to say there was a lull, heavy AK fire could be heard again, with thumps he thought were probably RPGs.