“Cut the crap. We need intel here,” Tom barked in a whisper, not appreciating Ron’s lack of professionalism in trying to keep the mood light.
“Switching to infrared,” Ron replied. The SUV was outfitted with the latest in infrared technology. It allowed the user to almost see through walls. If the wall wasn’t too thick, the body heat of anyone hiding behind it would register. “The spider boys are home and they are twenty-four meters directly ahead, approximately ten meters apart. We have two guards on the roof of the farmhouse behind the parapet wall. I caught them on infrared looking over the edge, and now they’ve ducked back down again. I’ve also got five warm bodies in the house. They seem to be either sleeping or watching TV. It’s clear otherwise, except in the orchard. I only show five signatures in the orchard, the rest are hidden by the house,” Ron gave them the sitrep.
“Roger, keep us informed,” Tom replied.
“You’ll need to take out the spiders yourself or back off a hundred meters so Pam can dust,” Ron reminded Tom.
“Yeah, I figured that. Just keep scanning for any other surprises and stay off the line unless there’s something to report,” Tom replied.
“You bet ya,” Ron casually replied. Tom fought back the urge to scream at him.
“Let’s move forward,” Tom whispered to Alex as he started to crawl forward slowly.
Pam had finished her second pass over the Jordanian farmhouse and was amazed at how quickly the EZ2 worked. Many of the targets had fallen as she passed over them, without any time delay. It appeared that everyone in or around the house was down, the gas penetrating anywhere air did. Satisfied the gas was working, she swung the drone around to the northeast and begun a quick sweep for the four-wheelers.
“C, Sandman here. You’ve got four bogies closing on your position, two from the north and two from the east. They’re too close for me to dust. You’ll need to take them out yourselves,” Pam informed Steve and Mike.
“No problem. We’ll handle it,” Steve replied in a whisper.
“Good hunting, and remember, there are four more four-wheelers out there that aren’t showing on the cameras,” Pam reminded them the total number of four-wheelers was eight, not four.
“Roger, good dusting,” Steve flirted. Pam rolled her eyes and bit her tongue.
Mike and Steve opted to move to a natural depression in the sand against a small rock outcropping, providing them with a defendable position about halfway back to the original FOP. Mike set up to take out the men coming from the east, and Steve focused on those from the north. Both of them double-checked making sure their MP10s were set for single fire and not semi-auto, then waited for the enemy to arrive.
Within seconds, the glow from their headlamps announced the four-wheelers’ arrival. Ten seconds later, their sound became audible. Mike and Steve took one last breath, held it until the men came within range, and let it out as they fired. The Brigade men never saw Mike and Steve and were quickly dispatched with four phiffs from the MP10s.
Despite all four guards having fallen lifelessly to the ground, only two of the machines stopped their forward motion. Apparently, two of the machines did not have auto-kill switches that stopped the vehicles should the driver be thrown from it. Those two machines continued traveling forward riderless, passing within five meters of Mike and Steve.
Steve must have thought they needed to shut down the noise and light from the machines as quickly as possible, for he jumped up to chase the four-wheelers. He had only managed to take a few steps before he was driven to the ground by a hail of machine gunfire.
“Shit, where are they?” Mike called out over the echo of gunfire as Steve dropped hard to the ground without responding. “Steve, help me out, man. Did you see what direction the shots came from?” Mike asked again. When Steve didn’t respond, he glanced back and discovered why there had been no response. Steve lay with his back against the rock outcropping, blood soaking the right side of his torso under his arm. He also had blood running down the right side of his face from what looked to be a head wound just above his NV goggles.
“Shit. I want my money back. This Safe Skin shit didn’t stop a damn thing,” Steve lamented, pain evident in his eyes. “I’ve had worse, but I can’t remember when.”
“Hold tight, man. I’ve got to get a fix on them. Then I’ll get us the hell out of here,” Mike told Steve.
He called out to Tom over the comlink. “B, this is C, we are taking fire and we have a man down, man down! Taking evasive action but may need the cavalry,” Mike informed Tom.
“C, B. Hold the fort. I heard the shots. I’ll send help as soon as possible. Hold on,” Tom replied before calling Ron.
“Archangel, we have a man down at or near the old FOP. What is your ETA if you leave now?” Tom asked, his voice filled with urgency.
“B, negative on the ETA. If I move, the mission is over. We have to follow the plan if we’re going to be able to help them. Hold your position, and wait for the dusting,” Ron curtly responded.
“Archangel, move your ass!” Tom almost screamed over the comlink. Alex reached out and touched Tom’s arm. Shrugging it off, he looked to his right where Alex was looking.
The moonlight revealed two black-clad figures creeping slowly down a small sand dune sixty meters away, angling towards the two spider holes. Tom quickly looked to his left and found two more black-clad figures coming over another small sand dune angling towards the two spider holes as well. Tom remained silent as he and Alex watched to see where they would stop. They finally stopped about twenty meters to the side of the spider holes. Both Tom and Alex knew why they were there—to reinforce the ambush.
“B, Archangel. You’ve got company from both the left and the right, looks to be four players. Sandman is incoming,” Tom said nothing in reply to Ron’s day late and dollar short intel, though he made a mental note to knock Ron out if they lived through this.
Mike slipped silently out of the depression in the shadow of the rock outcropping and made his way to the top of it. From there he had a much larger field of view. He immediately found two black-clad figures kneeling behind their four-wheelers, one hundred twenty-five meters to the east. They were using NV scopes on their weapons and scanning the area for targets.
Mike looked back to his left and found yet another black-clad figure slowly crawling towards the rock outcropping from the north. He was only twenty meters out and quickly closing. Mike settled his breathing, taking aim at the man as he continued crawling towards him. When he had closed to within ten meters, Mike calmly squeezed the trigger and quietly whispered the snipers’ motto, ‘One shot, one kill,’ before focusing on the other two men by the four-wheelers.
He set down the MP10 and pulled the .308 NATO sniper rifle off his shoulder. Through the gun’s scope, Mike saw the men who had shot Steve rapidly scanning the area for more combatants. Mike relaxed slightly because he knew they’d have a very difficult time spotting him. They were moving their scopes too quickly across the darkened landscape. The rapid movement causes the eye to lose focus while the brain tries to make sense of the blurred images.
Mike took a full minute to quiet his own breathing before raising his weapon to his shoulder. He took several slow, deep breaths to limit the amount of adrenaline rushing through his system as he prepared to fire. When he felt everything was right, he gently squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession. The two shooters pitched backward and lay dead in the sand.
Mike didn’t need to check the bodies to know they were dead. He had never missed before, and he didn’t miss this time. Jumping down to where Steve was lying, Mike did his best to stop the bleeding with their meager field medical kits and secured field dressings over his wounds. He commandeered one of the four-wheelers and helped Steve onto the machine. He then slipped in front of him. Steve immediately leaned forward on Mike for support.
Mike crossed the river just north of the farmhouse and waited for the signal to meet up. He kept the machine’s headlamp off, since t
here were still Brigade members unaccounted for, having only killed seven of the eight four-wheeler drivers.
Pam, having finished spraying on the Jordanian side of the river, was about to start dusting the orchard when she heard the sound of breaking twigs. At first, it was just a few twigs; then suddenly, there were snapping sounds all around her. She thought she heard someone running nearby and knew she had to move. She quickly locked the drone in a tight circle over the farmhouse and switched the laptop over to the security cameras before starting to climb into the driver’s seat of the SUV from the passenger seat.
Just as she settled in behind the wheel, several black-clad figures appeared on the screen. They were closing in on her position from the far side of the abandoned farmhouse. She didn’t know who they were, and she wasn’t about to hang around to find out.
She tossed the laptop into the passenger seat and flipped the ignition key causing the engine to roar instantly to life. She slapped it into gear, stomped her foot down on the accelerator, and the vehicle lunged forward. One of the intruders, startled by the engine noise, leaped forward past the edge of the house just as Pam gunned the SUV.
The intruder made a feeble attempt to raise his weapon to fire but never had a chance. Pam clipped him with her right front fender as she accelerated, sending him flying back into the dark shadow at the rear of the house.
Twisting the steering wheel hard to the left, Pam circled towards the road as someone stumbled over a trip wire and detonated an antipersonnel mine. It lit up the front of the farmhouse and the three black-clad figures caught in the blast. The flash from the antipersonnel mine also clearly framed the SUV in its light, providing a solid target for the attackers to open fire on. As Pam drove away, several rounds from AK-47s pinged off the SUV’s armor plating.
“What’s that?” Alex asked as the sound of gunfire and the small explosion echoed through the night. He turned his head just in time to see a faint glow in the southern sky before it quickly faded away.
“Pam’s got company,” Tom whispered back.
“Shit, now what?” Alex asked.
“Now we have to shoot to kill!” Tom replied as he turned and lined up his first target.
As expected, the noise to the south caught the attention of the men setting up the ambush. When the next explosion took place, the four men lifted themselves up on their forearms to get a better view. It was their last action on this earth. Both Tom and Alex fired two precise head shots each, eliminating the threats.
Tom spoke to Pam. “Sandman, B here, what’s your status?”
“I had some unexpected company drop in, and I didn’t wait to see who they were. I got out of dodge. I think I can pull over and resume dusting a little further down the road,” Pam explained.
“Negative, Sandman. I want you to keep coming toward the target. We need a little diversion so we can take out a few more hostiles before you dust. Turn your lights on,” Tom instructed as another small explosion echoed in the night, followed by a brief flash that lit up the southern sky.
“Roger, B. I am two minutes out. Looks like the company failed to knock before entering the house,” Pam replied.
“C, B. Status,” Tom called out to Mike and Steve in a hushed whisper.
“We’re north of the target. Steve’s hanging in there, but he needs help. I borrowed a four-wheeler, but we’re still in foreign territory. All is clear for now. There still a four-wheeler out here somewhere,” Mike responded.
“Hold tight. Watch our back door and be ready to move in ten minutes,” Tom ordered.
“Was that gunfire I heard a couple of minutes ago?” Mike inquired. Tom ignored him.
“Archangel, B. Go to plan B and move out in ten,” Tom said, informing Ron of the alteration to the plan.
The satellite phone rang before Ron could ask what plan B was. It was the boss checking in with Ron about the mission.
“Yeah, boss. What can I do for you? I have lots of time right now to chit-chat,” Ron barked into the phone.
“Whoa there, cowboy! I’m just checking your status and updating you to the fact that I need Ashrawl alive,” the boss snapped back.
“Alive? Did I forget to mention that we’re facing two dozen men at the farmhouse and have at least three dozen more building up to ambush us when we try?” Ron continued.
“Yeah, you mentioned all that. Did I mention that I’m sending you some backup?” the boss barked back at Ron.
“No, you forgot to mention that. What is the strength of our backup?” Ron asked.
“I’ve got a helicopter gunship and transport chopper stationed over the border in Iraq awaiting your request for air support. The gunship is poised to swoop in when you need them. The transport will be held in reserve to provide emergency evacuation if needed and additional fuel for the gunship to make its return trip. They’ll need a ten minutes’ heads up to cover the distance between you and them. When you’re ready to start the operation, give them a yell.
“Too late. The show’s already started, and we’ve got a man down,” Ron informed the boss who was now kicking himself for not having gauged the timing properly. It’d been fifteen years since he was actually in the field directing live action, and it showed.
“Who and how bad?”
“Steve. All I know is that he’s hit. Pam’s under fire, and I’m needed on stage. Send our backup now. Tell them it’s hot and make sure they know what frequency our comlinks are on,” Ron barked. He then stopped talking so he could focus on the mission before him.
“Roger, they’re on their way!” the boss confirmed and signed off.
“Huh…B,” Ron called out to Tom as soon as he hung up.
“Go ahead,” Tom responded in a whisper.
“I was just touched by the hand of God. He wants the package brought back to him so he can teach it to sing,” Ron relayed the message from the boss changing their mission from kill or capture to just capture.
“He what? Now’s a fine time to tell us,” Tom spat.
“I’m just the messenger,” Ron snapped, neglecting to mention they had backup on the way.
“We’ll do what we can, but I can’t promise you anything,” Tom replied, the anger clear in his voice over the last minute change in plans.
“Okay, Al, let’s watch for our friends on the roof. They should pop up when Pam roars in, and then we can take ’em out,” Tom gave Alex the next step in the new plan.
Pam’s headlights could be seen reflecting off the sand from over a kilometer out. The sound of the motor didn’t become clear until she was less than a quarter kilometer out. This worked as planned and drew the attention of the two guards on the roof. They slowly peeked their heads up from behind the parapet wall. Tom and Alex had hoped that the distraction would provide them with a clear shot at the two roof guards, and it did. They fired simultaneously, taking out both roof guards at the same time. The two guards in the spider holes were also curious about the sound of Pam’s arrival and stuck their heads up just long enough to confirm that something was headed towards the farmhouse before ducking back down. Their quick recon helped to pinpoint their exact location. As soon as they dropped back down, Tom and Alex sprinted to the spider holes and fired several shots through the wooden lids. Then they swiftly kicked the wooden lids off the holes to confirm the kills before sprinting back into the field and contacting Pam.
“Sandman, B. Stop and dust! Stop and dust!” he called out loudly, no longer concerned that he might be overheard.
Pam didn’t reply. She simply stomped on the brakes and slid to a stop. She killed the lights as the mini duststorm she kicked up shrouded the SUV in a thick, brown haze. She quickly scooped up the laptop and switched back to drone control, swinging it out over the north side of the farmhouse. There she opened the sprayer and bore down on the target. Tom called her, reminding her that she needed to stay tight on the farmhouse and not dust her own team by accident.
Keeping that in mind, after dusting the house, Pam turned tightly to the
north where she dusted the field despite no suggestion of any activity there. The cameras had already missed four targets, and she didn’t want to take the chance of missing any more. In less than three minutes, she had crisscrossed the farmhouse and orchard from two directions, spraying the balance of the EZ2 from the canisters.
“B, Sandman. The dusting is complete. You are safe to go in three minutes,” Pam informed Tom.
While this bit of drama played out, Ron had been slowly creeping across the field from the northwest. He remained a half kilometer out to ensure no one could hear or see the SUV.
Ron stopped his slow roll forward when Pam informed Tom they had three minutes before they could breach the farmhouse. He checked his watch and began counting down. As soon as the three minutes were up, he would gun the SUV and race to the front of the house ensuring he was in position to evacuate the team once they had Ashrawl.
Mike, hearing the same information, looked back to check on Steve, who was leaning hard on Mike’s back. Mike listened closely to Steve’s shallow breathing. Steve was beginning to take on a deathly pallor in the dim moonlight, and Mike doubted Steve could wait the three minutes. With a minute to go, he began rolling slowly towards the target farmhouse.
Pam switched the laptop back to the cameras at the abandoned house and found there were several cars and pickups moving past the farmhouse. Off to the far right side in one of the camera’s view, she saw two large pickup trucks with machine guns mounted in their beds streak past.
“B, Sandman. We’re about to have company. They’re coming at us from the south with dual thirty cal. sisters mounted on pickups. They are just passing the FOB,” Pam informed Tom and the team.
Ron gunned the large SUV forward upon hearing they had company and quickly reached sixty miles an hour. Mike gunned the four-wheeler and raced for the target, getting a few seconds’ jump on the assault. Tom and Alex jumped up and ran all out for the target farmhouse, ignoring the half minute left until it was safe to do so. In the excitement, Tom had forgotten to give the go signal, but it didn’t matter in the grand scheme. Everyone was already rushing the farmhouse.
Reprisal!- The Gauntlet Page 15