by Lea Hart
Rolling her eyes, Asli then gave her a “get real” look. “I doubt Carrick and Andrew are going to let us get very far when this thing breaks up.”
“I heard that,” Andrew responded as he briefly glanced over his shoulder.
“Me too,” Carrick responded. “We’ll assess the situation and let you know once the speeches are done.”
Looking at Asli, she made a face and then looked out over the crowd and saw nothing but people enjoying the victory.
Symbolically, ISIS had lost the jewel in their empire that allowed them to claim in their propaganda that it had created a pure haven of Islam, and how they were going to spin the loss was anyone’s guess. “Where are they headed next?” she asked herself quietly.
“They’re still active along the Euphrates and just because they ceded ground doesn’t mean their ability to rally will diminish,” Asli commented. “They’ve always seemed to use the same propaganda and say that they put up a strong defense on behalf of the Sunni Muslim population.”
“So, who will be the next victim of their defense?” she responded as she leaned against Carrick.
“Their ability to lie in wait for an opportunity to capitalize on regional instability just proves they’re looking at the long game. All they need are places to hide and a competent network of cyber operatives through which they can recruit, raise money, plan attacks, and stoke anger at the Shiite Muslim-led governments,” Andrew said as he racked his gun.
“Don’t think they can’t rise once again and take territory,” Carrick added as he lifted his high-power scope and scanned the buildings that surrounded the square. “The last several years have shown us they don’t give up and are resilient. We’ve seen them come back from worse in a relatively short timeframe.” Moving the scope, he said, “Clear.”
“Anything you want to tell me?” Andrew asked as he looked over his shoulder.
“No. I just don’t like being in a crowd of unknowns.” He tipped his head and spoke into the mic on his kit, “Clear.”
“Who were you talking to?” Audrey asked.
“Ace. They’re on the other side with the men they trained from the SDF and we’ve all got eyes out.”
Audrey looked at the next group of speakers and noticed there were no more women from the YPG and decided she’d seen enough. “I’m ready to head out when you guys are.”
“Thank fuck,” Carrick mumbled. “Let’s hook up with Ace and Caid and see when they’re heading back. It probably makes sense to convoy since we’re at the edge of the area the Kurds control. No need to make ourselves sitting ducks by traveling alone.”
“Roger that,” Andrew replied as he led the group away from the gathered crowd.
Standing in the shade of a demolished building, Audrey looked down a road that was littered with rubble and wondered what the last days were like in the city. When she saw Caid and Ace off in the distance, she wondered if they were ready to head back to the base.
It looked like they were accompanied by two men and three women from the YPG, and she hoped they might have a chance to speak to them. “Asli, get ready because we may have some people to talk to.”
Turning to Carrick, she was about to ask him a question when she felt a flat pressure, followed by a deep heavy boom. Looking up, she saw a rolling gray smoke mushroom fill a street corner.
“Fuckers,” Carrick ground out as he pulled Audrey inside the building. “Weapons red,” he instructed Andrew as he pushed Asli inside the doorway. He racked back his weapon and slid the safety off and guided Audrey to the staircase. “Stay there and don’t move until I say.”
“Yes,” she said as put her arm around Asli and sat quietly. “I guess there’s no peace in Raqqa yet.”
“Might not be for a long time to come,” Asli responded.
Watching Carrick stand against the doorway with his weapon poised and speaking into his mic let her know that getting out unharmed was going to be damn near impossible.
***
Carrick stood inside the crumbling building and heard the familiar noises of war. The sound of rounds whistling unobstructed through the air as they crashed either into concrete or dirt was a soundtrack he was all too familiar with. Checking Andrew’s position across the room, he saw him scanning the area through his scope. “Tangos?”
“Negative,” he replied as he continued to quarter the area. “Same shit, different country,” he added.
“Wonder if it’s a lone martyr or they’re playing the old game of chicken and blowing up cars to obscure their position from aerial surveillance.”
“We should have an answer either way in a couple of minutes when they make their next move.”
“Roger that.” Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Audrey sitting quietly with Asli as they held hands. “We’re going to sit tight until we get an updated sitrep from Caid and Ace.”
“Roger that,” Audrey replied as she gave him a small smile.
Knowing she was scared out of her mind, but not panicking, made him fall just a little harder for her. Clearing his throat, he turned back to the window and scanned the long street to the right and saw no movement. The sun threaded through the black smoke from the car fire and he remembered the early days in Mosul when he’d been there with his platoon. No matter how often ISIS had set cars ablaze, coalition jets still dove in to drop a bomb or heavy artillery, finding their targets with ease as the skies filled with a consuming shriek as bombs created crater-sized imprints. It was like some sick cartoon on repeat, where one side kept doing the same stupid shit expecting different results, and the other side kept laying down the hammer.
Above the sounds of people scattering in the square a quarter of a mile away, Carrick heard the reliable chatter of rifles and guessed the YPG and YPJ were going after the recalcitrant jihadists. Hearing his earbud crackle, he waited to see if someone was going to give him an update.
“Confirm location,” Ace said.
“A half click east of the square, inside the corner building.”
“We’re coming to you, fighting has broken out one click west of your position.”
“Permission to engage?” Carrick asked.
“If necessary as a defensive maneuver.”
“Roger that,” Carrick replied. He knew that the position of the American forces inside of Syria was strictly as advisors and understood they were not to engage the enemy unless absolutely necessary. But that wasn’t going to stop him from doing what he had to do to keep Audrey and Asli safe.
“There’s not enough of them to come out and face the YPG, so they’re relying on harassing fire, just like they did in Mosul,” Andrew bit out as he grew still.
Seeing his buddy who he’d been in hundreds of firefights with grow quiet let him know he had someone in the crosshairs of his scope. “Number and location.”
“One red-charlie, two white-bravo.”
“Call it,” Carrick responded as he looked into his scope, spotted the target, and positioned his weapon.
“White-bravo.”
Without another second passing, Andrew opened fire at the same moment he did. They took out the jihadists in less than twenty seconds and wondered who else was out there, waiting for them. Seeing five men skitter away from the building as they blindly returned fire, Carrick took out two and Andrew took care of the other three.
Close enough to observe their bodies twitch with each impact of the bullet, Carrick prayed Audrey couldn’t see a thing from her vantage point. It was one thing to think of war in some far-off theoretical way, but it was something else when you saw the life leave a person’s body.
The first time he killed someone was as fresh in his memory as if it had happened yesterday. He didn’t regret it, but he didn’t relish it either. It was simply a fact of his life. When he’d been called upon to defend his men and his country, he hadn’t hesitated and would do it again and again if that’s what was required.
The conflicts that were happening all over the world were mobile and unpredictabl
e and he guessed they were going to continue to pop up as frequently as they had in the past. He was going to be ready whenever and wherever to protect those who couldn’t do it for themselves.
It was what he’d been built for, trained for, and he didn’t shy away from it, and prayed that when Audrey realized he was the real deal and not some romantic, fictionalized version of a warrior, she’d accept him and not find him repulsive.
Thinking of warriors in an abstract way was a lot different than seeing one up close and personal and he didn’t know how she was going deal with him. He’d been baptized in the water of conflict over the last decade and he’d seen more than his fair share of pugnacious countries with fighters armed and itchy, impervious to calm and diplomacy.
War was no longer just nation against nation; it was tribal warlords crazed with ancient hatreds and thugs in the Horn of Africa grabbing Westerners for profit and fun. The front was no longer some definitive line, it was a hundred small skirmishes taking place all over the world. There were no clear winners anymore; simply people who survived the battle.
Hearing footsteps from above, Carrick immediately moved the women to the hall and slowly ascended the stairs. Not knowing who or what he was going to encounter, he was surprised when he heard Ace’s voice. “I almost shot your ass.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he responded as he came down the stairs with Caid. “We came across the balconies after you cleaned up the trash that was lurking outside.”
“Exfil?”
“We’ve got some tangos between us and our vehicles, so we’ve got to come up with a plan to get on the other side of them.”
“Another day in paradise,” Carrick responded.
“Done it a hundred times, all we have to do is pick how we want to do it today,” Caid responded as he walked passed Carrick. “The guys from the PMG are out there mixing it up, and we’re instructed not to engage unless we’ve got a gun shoved in our faces. Considering the paperwork something like that involves, I’d rather avoid it.”
“Andrew and I have at least eight men on the ground, so what does that mean for us?”
“Uncle Sam doesn’t sign your paycheck anymore, so I’m going to say very little.”
Carrick turned back around and headed back down the stairs. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Roger that,” Ace responded.
When Carrick saw Audrey sitting on the floor with her arm around Asli, and her head down, he went over and crouched down. “Hey, how are you two doing?”
Audrey looked up and shrugged. “Can’t tell.”
“We’re going to exfil pretty quick here.”
“Okay.”
When he saw that her pupils were dilated, he knew the sooner he could make it happen, the better. She didn’t need to know that the men out there, for the most part, were decent fighters. Whatever else they might be—lunatics, half-wits, junkies, fake Muslims, or pawns of foreign powers, they were not cowards.
Having spent most of the last decade in combat, he understood the value of someone who was willing to die for their cause. Loyalty should never be underestimated, and most of the jihadists had it in spades. It didn’t matter if he thought it was incorrectly placed, going against a man who was ready to blow himself up and fight until he was dead was a worthy adversary.
Not that he or any of his brothers from the Teams couldn’t succeed against it, but it was important to appreciate your opponent. “Hang tight and we’ll have a plan before you know it.”
When she nodded and didn’t say anything, he figured it was the most she could manage, and that meant he needed to get the women out as soon as possible.
For him, the skirmish wasn’t a big deal, but he knew that wasn’t the case for them. He had no illusions about the deadly business that was happening all over the country and, more often than not, encounters were a question of kill or be killed, and he didn’t think they felt the same way.
When he was in-country, no matter where in the world, he felt like it was his duty to change the battle space around him. Whether it was to defend someone or something or to move the battle line forward, and that wasn’t how most people saw the world.
But he did and probably always would.
***
Carrick looked at Ace, Caid, and Andrew and nodded. “I think it’s a good plan.”
“Unless we want to call in a helo to pick us up, it’s the only plan,” Andrew responded.
Ace rested his hands on his gun and rolled his shoulders. “We don’t want to have that much American firepower this close to Indian country. Assad’s got forces less than twenty-five clicks away and we don’t need to shove our presence in their faces. Right now, we’re ignoring each other, and our orders are to keep it that way.”
“Roger that,” Carrick responded.
“Throwing frags as cover will allow us to cross the street and get down the alley so we can make it to the vehicles,” Caid confirmed.
“Let’s go get some,” Andrew said.
“I’ll let Audrey and Asli know,” Carrick said as he moved away from the group. He stepped into the hall and bent down in front of the women. “We’re ready to exfil. You two are going to be the peanut butter to our sandwich and stay in the middle of our formation. We’re going to throw some frags to cover our position and then hustle our way to the trucks.”
“Okay,” Audrey responded quietly.
“The frags are loud and you’ll probably feel momentarily stunned, but keep hold of us and keep moving.”
“Ready,” Andrew called out.
Carrick stood and watched the women follow. “Heads down, keep moving.”
Seeing their frightened expressions told him talking wasn’t going to make them less concerned and getting out of there was the only answer.
Andrew moved up to be on point as Caid and Ace flanked the women and he took up the rear. Maintaining a tight tactical formation, the group stood at the door of the bombed out building and waited for Andrew to call the signal. “Frag out.”
Throwing one to the left and then one to the right, they waited twenty-five seconds before the smoke and deafening blast filled the street.
Moving quietly, like predators on the hunt, they proceeded slowly to reduce their noise signature until they cleared the corner and moved beyond the insurgents. Wild shots pinged off the buildings over their heads as the smoke from the frags concealed their movement. Increasing their pace, knees bent, weapons at the ready, the formation shifted as they began the final surge toward their vehicles.
As they ran, Carrick and the men picked up and rotated overlapping fields of fire, which allowed them to cover every inch of the surrounding area.
Audrey and Asli followed orders and moved as the men did inside the circle.
Moving the last click toward safety, Carrick thought of the mantra he learned in the early days of training. Cover high, cover low. Left high, left low. Scan right building, scan left building. Cover down the alley. Check rooftops. Check windows. Weapons always at the ready.
The four men had the choreography of the combat ballet down cold and, though they hadn’t worked together in years, they still had the ability to move as one. SEALs trained thoroughly together, so time and space apart did little to diminish their unique ability to read one another’s movements.
The sounds of another gunfight, another battle surrounded them as they moved closer and closer to their target. Random bursts of gunfire flew around them and Carrick felt the tell-tale graze of a bullet across his shoulder.
Sliding his eyes to the right, he saw the man responsible and eliminated him instantly. A jolt of adrenaline shot through his body as he thought about how close that bullet had come to hitting Audrey or Asli.
They moved past the last set of buildings and the gunfire ceased. Seeing a group of YPG soldiers, Carrick knew the jihadists didn’t like the numbers and had decided to melt away, probably seeking cover in one of the hundreds of crumbling structures.
They maintaine
d the formation until they moved past the group and were on the other side. The group jogged the last few feet to the vehicles and Andrew threw the doors open and got Audrey and Asli inside quickly.
Carrick saluted Caid and Ace as they jumped into their vehicle directly across from them and then climbed in, slid his gun off, and started the car. “I think we’re done in Raqqa for the day.”
Audrey leaned forward and gasped. “Carrick, your shoulder is bloody.”
“Just a scratch, no big deal.”