by Shane Crosby
We ducked down so we wouldn’t be seen and used the binoculars to see over the protruding wall encompassing the roof of the building we were laying atop of. A pickup truck entered the parking lot. I could see that he was just as suspicious as we were about this meeting. The truck slowed to a crawl as he continued to drive around the parking lot searching, seeking for anything that resembles hope or trouble. Satisfied that it wasn’t a setup, we started making our way towards the ladder to come down from our perch, but before we could make it to the edge of the roof, shots rang out. We all dived to the ground onto our stomachs. There weren’t a lot of shots, just one. When we looked through the binoculars the border patrol agent was slumped over the steering wheel.
“Shit! He’s dead.”
“How do you know?”
“Uh, the brain matter on the windshield would give it away.”
“Damn it!”
“Did you see that?”
“We have to get off this roof.”
After they shot him, they threw a grenade inside, sprayed gasoline over the truck outside and inside and then set it on fire. The explosion almost knocked us off of the building we were currently on. They were talking into walkie talkies and looking around as if they were looking for something or someone in particular.
“Okay guys. I’ll bet they’ll looking for us.”
“I’m not arguing with you. We have to get off this roof.”
We crawled on our stomachs to the ladder. Each one of us giving the other enough clearance before the next started down the ladder. In the middle of Mase and myself getting to the ground the building exploded. We were blown fifty feet back onto the grass. Scott ran over to us to check if we were alright.
“Hey fellas! I’d love to show you some brotherly love right now, but we don’t have time for that. If you can walk get up let’s go!”
He gave us each a hand to help us up. Once we got to our feet we ran to the nearest group of buildings. It was so dark in that area they couldn’t see that well. Which worked out well for us.
Mase
Out of breath and filled with adrenaline, when we got into the building we took a second to see if anyone was injured and how badly.
“We don’t have long. They’ll be here soon. Is anyone hurt?”
“I’m good.”
“Good. Dub?”
“I’m okay.”
“What does that mean?”
“Are you hurt?”
“A little.”
“A little? What the hell does that mean?” Scott lifted his shirt to reveal a piece of the building lodged in his rib cage.
“Oh shoot! This isn’t good.”
I joined Scott in looking at our brother’s wound.
“Oh man! Dub, this is more than just a little hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. I can make it.”
One thing you learned by having a dad, uncle and brother as SEALS, is to be prepared.
“Get it out. Come on Scott. Shine your light over here.”
“We need some water.”
“We have to do without that for now.”
“You ready?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Well...”
Scott pulled it out with one jerk. To prevent the loud yelling from giving away our position, we had to put the leather case for Dub’s knife in his mouth. The pain was so bad he bit down with such force his teeth pierced through the leather. Scott took a rag out of his pocket packed it inside of Dub’s wound. I found some twine and tied some around his upper body to keep the make shift bandage in place.
“You alright bro?”
“With you two as doctors I’m skeptical.”
“You’ll be fine. You’re a soldier. Now suck it up and let’s get out of here alive.”
Time was running out. They were going to find us sooner than later. With Dub’s injury, we were at a disadvantage. We couldn’t take a chance on having to physically fight our way out of here. He’s not at full strength. He could be captured. We’d be forced to negotiate and that would mean surrender, which would equal death.
As it stands, we all know the longer we’re pinned down the weaker he’ll become. We don’t have time to think. It’s act and now.
“Hey guys. I found some gasoline.”
“Lucky us. There’s some ammonia nitrate over here.”
“This must have been some sort of manufacturing facility.”
“Who cares, as long as we can develop a way to get out of here.”
“With these bottles, we can make a homemade bomb.”
“Good eye, bro! I’ll find some more bottles. Dub, keep watch on the door.”
“Got it.”
Dub
I know I’m a liability. But, whether you’re brothers by blood or brothers in arms the protocol is the same. You watch each other’s backs and you’re prepared to give your life to do so. In saying that, if saving me means killing them, I’m prepared to give my life for theirs.
Mase and Scott were busy preparing the bombs. I kept a vigilant eye on any opening our enemy could enter through.
“Hey, fellas put a rush on it.”
“Going as fast as we can.”
“Faster! That’s not a request.”
They’re approaching the last building, ours. I saw five men coming towards our location, which seemed light. What I’ve learned from these boys is they always come with more than enough backup, fire power and determination to accomplish their goal and that was to make sure we weren’t breathing when all of this was over.
With my injury and rapid blood loss, the only way we can get out of here walking on our own legs is to out think them. Between the three of us, we had enough training, strategic planning and will to survive to pull it off. We hoped.
From the window, I can see they’re comfortable. They have us cornered. One looks down and sees something. He bends down to take a closer look, puts his fingers in it, lifts them up to inspect the substance and knows it’s blood. He looks down further, starts to walk the trail of red substance he’s found. He stops, smiles and walks back toward the others. From the amount of blood, he knows it’s a bad injury. He’s confident and shares his discovery with the group. In return, they exude the same arrogance sure of our demise this time. With blood constantly dripping from my body, I had to admit, I was concerned about our chances of walking out of here. The leader puts his rifle over his shoulder and directs two men to cover the back. He’s making sure there’s no other way out. I would and have done the same.
“Guys! Tell me you’re ready.”
“Out of time?”
“Like two days ago.”
“We’re ready.”
“Two coming around the back.”
“I see ‘em.”
“Three coming through the front door. What’s the play here?”
If we let them in they will be shooting and so will we. However, I’m not in any condition to play defense. They have another guy somewhere with a rocket launcher. Since we aren’t in a million pieces all over Arizona it’s obvious they haven’t told him which building we’re in yet. If we shoot them together we can only shoot three. That will leave two. There’s two in a half of us. I like those odds. Chances are the rocket launcher guy is too far to get here in time to shoot at us. Scott and Mase can take care of the other two.
In a hushed voice. “Dub, how’s your shooting finger?”
I smiled. “Nothing wrong with my shooting finger, bro.”
“Okay, get ready, on three.”
Once again, I can feel that rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. The pain is gone for now. One thing I know I can do is hit my target. “Ready.”
“Ready.”
“Now.”
We hit the trigger of our weapons in unison. I always love to see the light go out of my target’s eyes. When she performs like this, it makes me want to kiss my Nina. I released my shots in succinct bursts. I hit the first one perfectly. The other two tried to take cover, but before the
y could I lined them up with my site and fired. As they were falling and running on top of each other, they were trying to return fire. I could’ve told them it wasn’t going to do any good. I’m fighting for my life, literally, blood is steadily running out of my wound. If I don’t get help and soon I’m going to lose consciousness. They had to die or I was and I wasn’t ready to make my mom put on her black dress any time soon. I took out two. The other one was choking on his blood. He was no longer a factor.
“Good shooting fellas. Now, let’s get out of here.”
Scott and Mase took the lead and I followed. We’d parked our car two streets over in someone’s driveway. I hoped they didn’t come home early or look out of the window and call the police. I was weak and getting weaker. I didn’t want to alarm my brothers, but I didn’t have any other choice.
“Hey fellas, I think I’m going to need some help.” That was about all I remembered. When I woke up I was in the emergency room.
“You decided to wake up?”
“Just like him, taking naps on the job.”
“Funny. What happened after we left the building.”
“No worries.”
“But, I just want you to know, you’re so damn big it took me and Mase both to give your big ass enough blood to revive you.”
“I was almost sitting with Jesus and you guys are upset about a little blood.”
“Oh, you were never going to be seeing Jesus. We saved you from conversations with the devil.”
“Oh, yeah. We gave you another opportunity to live right.”
“Maybe the next time your number is up, you’ll have changed and Jesus will think about letting you up there.”
“I doubt it though Mase. He’s done too much.”
“Always hold out hope.”
“Stop it. Don’t make me laugh. Who stitched me up?”
“I did.”
“Looks amateurish.”
“Hey, you can’t complain.”
“You could’ve made them in a straight line. They’re all zigzagged. Don’t ever stitch me up again.”
“No problem. Next time you wake up, you’ll be asking Jesus to send someone down to hell to bring you a drink of water.”
As usual with us brothers we can always find the humor in anything. The injury was pretty nasty, but the blood loss is what almost got me. Mase and Scott stitched me up, but at some point, they came to the realization that I was going to need professional help. I’m glad they were there to give me the aid I needed. With people out there with a desire to end our lives, I know that was a difficult decision to make. I have to heal quickly before our enemies get a clue.
CHAPTER THIRTY – SIX
TWO DAYS LATER
ANXIOUS
LOS ANGELES
Dub, Mase, Scott
Dub
I was released from the hospital the next day. Don and Trevor hadn’t made it back from Sand Diego so our exit from this potential burial ground has been delayed. However, if I were to be completely honest, due to my injury, I’ required rest. The problem is, with what’s looming over us, if we didn’t leave and soon, the only rest in my future would be permanent.
“When is Don and Trevor getting back?”
“Tonight.”
“We leave in the morning, then?”
“That’s right.”
“What about Dub?”
“He can here you.”
“You’re not in good shape. You need additional bed rest.”
“Either way it goes, he can’t get it here. We’ll have to change hotels again and again that’s not rest.”
“I know it.”
“When Don and Trevor return, Trevor’s leg is still healing but he can run and fight. It’ll be four of us in fighting condition.”
“I can hold a weapon.”
“Let’s just hope we don’t need you to.”
“We dealt them a nice blow the other night. They haven’t found us so hopefully we can get out of here tomorrow without incident.”
“In other time, I’d shoot that down, but you’re right. I am hurting. I need to get back to Berlin and rest. Any kind of confrontation before my body heals isn’t going to be good.”
“Let’s pack up and plan for tomorrow.”
THE NEXT DAY
PICK UP DAY
Dub
It’s the worst situation to be in. Danger is right around the corner and you’re physical incapable of defending yourself. The concern for our safety is enough weight to carry. It has the potential to make you lie awake all night. On top of this, I’ve refused to take pain medication because I need to remain alert until we’re back at the bunker. All of that rolled together has kept me awake and in a cold sweat since we got back here yesterday.
God must have a purpose for us because He keeps saving us. I don’t want to keep pushing it that grace, though so today is departure day, no delays acceptable.
This morning, everyone was on edge. We’ve all been in battle, but that’s with an entire army behind you. In this situation, we’re a band of brothers against an entire army. I never wanted to be a martyr and neither have my brothers. Continuing to pursue this case, makes me wonder if we’re sure of what we want.
“Does everyone have everything?”
“You made sure of that.”
“Hey bro, did you sleep at all last night?”
“From the looks of things, I’d say, no.”
“You okay, Dub?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“We’re brothers, don’t lie.”
“I can make it to the chopper.”
“Everybody ready?”
“Since we arrived.”
All packed up and ready to go, we shut the door of our hotel room walked down the hall, got into the elevator and waited. I don’t know about the others, but each time that bell goes off, I’m giving that door my full attention. When we stop and those doors open, I’m wondering what’s on the other side. For every stop we made without having to engage in an armed confrontation, I breathed, as much as possible, a sigh of relief. Headed out the front door, we jumped in an awaiting taxi and onto our pick-up point.
I checked out every car that passed or stopped beside us. I didn’t want my brothers to know how paranoid I was. But, to say I was on edge would be an understatement. My anxiety was higher than a long tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The closer we got to our destination, the better I felt. When I saw the helicopters from the windshield, I started to breath. Something foreign started to come across my face; it resembled a smile. Click, click, click, went the turn signal when the cabbie was preparing to turn right into the landing strip area. The cab made the right turn and continued down the strip to the chopper and then stopped so we could exit the vehicle. With jubilation, we grabbed our bags, opened the door, I put one foot on the ground and the cab exploded. I was thrown out of the taxi against the hub where the airplanes are kept.
Luckily Scott and Mase had already gotten out of the car. My eyes were stinging from blood running into them. The more I tried free my eyes of the blood, the more they burned. I was dazed, incoherent and everything was blurry. I couldn’t remember where I was or what was happening. My surroundings, what I could see of them, looked unfamiliar. The ringing in my ears, the noise and the pain of the sledge hammer like pounding in my head was radiating down my entire body. My head felt like a weight; the more I tried to lift it, the more pain I felt in my body. I think I can hear voices all around me. But, it sounds like I’m under water. I can’t understand any of the words. Pop, pop, pop that sound is muffled, but I know what that sound is, gunfire. I was already on my stomach so I stayed there. My compromised hearing and confusion made it almost impossible to know what to do. Since I wasn’t being hit with bullets, I scooted down toward the flickering. I associated that with fire. If the flames didn’t burn me and the smoke didn’t kill me maybe my brothers would be able to find me.
“Scott, get Dub! Can you get him?”
“No, I�
�m pinned down! I can see him but can’t get to him.”
“I’m hit! I’m hit! Damn it!”
Mase
To be confronted by the enemy, hear ammunition leave their gun faster than you can return fire or reload yours is frightening. Even more so when you feel a mack truck hit you, look down and see a hole in your body where a .223 grain bullet has ripped through your side. And, you see your skin literally smoking from the heat of the bullet. I don’t know of any words that could accurately describe it so the average human sitting in their cubicle could understand. It’s an experience that bonds soldiers together over generations and decades. It’s also a bond I’d be content to do without.
I lay down behind a burning vehicle and prayed I could load my weapon fast enough before they were standing over me ready to blow my brains out. Not to mention, Scott, he was still in this fight and practically alone. I got my weapon loaded took my mind to another place raised up got into position to continue to fight. From my peripheral, I could see the bird getting up in the air. It took a 180 degree turn, then I heard that whistle, explosion and flames shooting up into the air. Man, I was thinking, this must be how it was in Vietnam when those Black hawks dropped bombs on the enemy from the air. I know it sounds strange but it was a beautiful sight. Pieces of the ground flying up close enough to touch the sky, bodies disintegrating before your eyes, cars and trucks suddenly performing acrobatics they weren’t designed to do. It sounds like a horrific scene but when you’re sitting home rocking your grandchildren on your knee, you’ll remember it fondly because you lived through it.
Scott ran over to help me, but I couldn’t see Dub.
“No, Scott. Get Dub first.”
Scott
I started looking for Dub and I was getting worried that we wouldn’t be able to find him, and truth be told, we wouldn’t have, but Dub is relentless.
Long ago, we made a pact, no matter what, we’d fight to the end to make it back home. That’s exactly what I saw. A lesser person wouldn’t have been able to do anything, they would’ve died there. But, not Dub, he couldn’t even crawl. He drug his body through bombs, bullets, cars flying in the air, fire and smoke hoping someone would see him. He always had my respect, but his actions today reminded me why.