Two hours later, the Arab officer from the convoy entered the room along with several guards. He looked completely different from Esfandiari. He wore the same uniform as the Iraqi guards and had the same large nose and distinguishing mustache. Each of the guards, without exception, appeared to be a stamped replica of the next.
The officer paused briefly at the door, taking in the room. His eyes fixed on the closed circuit camera in the corner of the room, obviously just what he’d been searching for. He crossed the room to the camera in a few quick steps and stood near it, studying it carefully for any signs of tampering. He must have been satisfied because he stepped away from it and approached the passengers.
He officer studied each of them carefully, one at a time, then stopped in front of Logan.
“I know who you are.”
Rob’s heart sunk, but Logan, as cool as could be, stood up and smiled.
“You’ve been to Cleveland?”
“Cleveland?!”
“Maybe to a Browns game?”
“You talk of America?”
“Yes!” He spoke eagerly, digging a card from his wallet. “I sell farm equipment, and as near as I can tell you folks don’t have that much around here.”
The Arab officer looked totally confused.
“Listen,” Logan said excitedly as he approached the Arab officer. “I know we probably don’t have any kind of international trade agreement for sales, but my company pulls a lot of weight with Congress...”
“Enough! We have no need for inferior American products.” He walked away.
Rob was thoroughly impressed. Logan should get an Oscar for that performance, he thought with a smile. The officer moved over to Taylor and smiled.
“You are a member of the First Armor Division, no?”
Taylor stood silently.
The officer smirked. “The First Armor Division is ready to collapse.”
Taylor didn’t move. “Then that means they’re still holding.”
The officer’s smile disappeared, and he turned to Rob. “Now you are a different sort of problem. You, I believe, must die.”
Rob said nothing, staring back without expression.
The officer, having seen what he needed to see, left.
The Cheetah was near and heard the conversation. The officer had recognized the man called Logan. Could there be more to him than his story about being a simple farm equipment salesman from Cleveland? The Cheetah would have to study this man carefully.
Main Operations Center, USS Roosevelt
Persian Gulf
` Early in the afternoon, Brodie communicated his rescue plan to Washington. Colonel Jason Dempsey listened to the conversation with interest. He was going to lead the Marine team to rescue the hostages once it was approved by the Joint Chiefs. He had voiced concerns about the mission and the safety of the men he would command. As a result, he had submitted a plan of his own.
Dempsey wasn’t cowardly by any measure. In fact, he had volunteered for three tours in Vietnam. His plan called for the return of a recon team to the area twenty-four hours before the main assault force’s arrival to ensure that the area was still free from hostile forces. But apparently the Joint Chiefs had selected Wright’s plan of an immediate extraction with no advanced recon squad.
Though it was true that Dempsey’s plan would require another twenty-four hour delay while the second recon team was sent in, he felt that this added margin of safety would significantly reduce the chance of an ambush. Also, Dempsey’s plan called for the assaulting force to be accompanied by two Apache gun ships and a tanker for refueling. This would have set the plan back several additional days as the Marine helicopters were requisitioned. Given the present battlefield conditions, those gun ships would be hard to come by.
Brodie approached Dempsey. “Colonel, your status is go. You’ll be proceeding according to the Wright plan, leaving at dusk. Captain Wright will be commanding Marine team one and Captain Mike Vinson will be commanding team two. Do you have any questions?”
“No, sir.” Dempsey shook his head confidently. “Marine teams two and three are ready and standing by.”
“Then that will be all.” Brodie stood still as the men drifted out of the room and motioned for Dempsey to come. Brodie was holding a document marked across the top MOST CONFIDENTIAL.
“Colonel, I have some information to share with you. See that it is shared with no one else. I’m not sure how our intelligence services came across this or how accurate it is.” He held up the paper. “It appears we have something of a hero on that flight. According to Interpol, the flight was hijacked by five PLO terrorists. One was posing as a baggage handler from London’s International Airport, and he smuggled weapons aboard. Apparently, the flight crew relayed this information to London shortly before they were all killed. They left their radio on, and the whole thing is on tape.”
“So what about this hero?”
“Intelligence doesn’t know how they landed the aircraft. They know it wasn’t the crew because a little while after the flight crew was killed, an Israeli listening post intercepted a conversation between a passenger who claimed to be flying the aircraft and an Iraqi interceptor. It seems that, based on that conversation, the Israelis believe the passenger killed the terrorists, disarmed a bomb, and then flew the aircraft.”
“That seems a little farfetched, Captain, doesn’t it?”
Brodie shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, but the Israelis are usually pretty good about their information. Look, I don’t know what happened up there. For all I know, that hero is actually one of the terrorists. That will be up to you to decide once you get there. Check him out carefully. I think you’ll know when you meet him if he’s for real or not.”
“I understand, and thanks for the information.”
Code Name: “Red Knight”
Mission: Hostage Rescue Operation
As night approached, four CH-46 Sea Knight helicopters lifted off the Roosevelt’s deck. The Sea Knight was a large dual-rotor helicopter that could easily accommodate two dozen adults. Sea Knight Able contained the detachments of twenty Marine members in all. Sea Knights Baker and Charley were empty helicopters for transporting the hostages back. Sea Knight Dog contained two Hummer land rovers heavily armed for the assault team. It would also be used as a backup helicopter in an emergency.
Dempsey checked his watch. In four hours, they would be landing about a mile from the compound. The two hummers would race ahead and cut off the roads on either side of the compound while the rest of the Marines attacked the compound on foot. Once the compound was secured, the helicopters would fly in and load the hostages, the Marines, and the hummers. Then after the helicopters were airborne, bombs planted by the Marine teams would be detonated, blowing up the compound. He wasn’t altogether comfortable with the plan, but he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to be in on this rescue. He would just have to hope for the best.
Almost four hours later, the green light came on in the helicopter’s cabin, signaling that the Marine teams would be landing in three minutes. They checked their gear a final time when there was a whispering sound above the sound of the turbines. Then came a flash and the concussion of an explosion. Sea Knight Dog was falling in a ball of flames. The swishing sound was not new to Dempsey, who knew immediately the sound of a surface-to-air missile. They were under attack!
Dempsey grabbed his headset. “What’s our altitude?”
Several of the Marines did not wait to find out and leaped from the helicopter to their deaths. Then, suddenly, another explosion shook their helicopter from behind. The explosion showered metal fragments that darted through the tail of the helicopter like small missiles. The distant sound of automatic cannon fire could be heard, and then there was a tremendous explosion above them. Flames burst through the ceiling as the tail turbine assembly shattered and the back section of the helicopter blew apart exposing, the Marine team to a torrent of sucking wind that pulled a couple of men from inside the fusela
ge.
The helicopter tumbled and twisted downward until it impacted on the ground. About a half dozen uninjured men rushed out of the crumpled ship into the night, among them Captain Wright. One remained to help the injured out of the burning helicopter.
Dempsey, though dazed, was still alive. Then another explosion sounded in the distance as the last airborne helicopter, trying to flee, was hit from behind by a missile and exploded. Marine team members were trying to tend each other’s wounds. They were all injured and shaken up by the impact of the crash.
Dempsey assessed the situation quickly: the rescue was a bust! He himself had suffered a broken wrist and several broken ribs. “Set up the satellite comm unit! We’ve only got a few minutes to report!” His voice drifted off because of the pain.
But they had even less time than that. He had barely given the order when the night came alive with Iraqi soldiers. There was no place to run and no fight left in them. The Iraqis were waiting for them, and they walked right into the trap.
Miraculously, no one was seriously hurt, and after being searched, they were loaded onto trucks and brought to the compound. Dempsey looked around at his men. There were twelve of them, and he was the only officer. “Did anyone see what happened to Captain Wright or Captain Vinson?”
“Yeah, Captain Vinson bought it.”
“Captain Wright escaped with Hawk and a few others.”
Dempsey tried to assess what he knew of Wright. He was a careful and sensible man who would do the right thing, and the right thing would be to try and get his men to safety.
When they arrived at the compound, Dempsey was taken from his men and brought to a little room where an Arab officer stood.
“What is your name?” the officer asked.
“Colonel Jason Dempsey.”
“You are a long way from home, are you not?”
Dempsey was covered in blood and dirt, holding his broken wrist close to his broken ribs. He was in obvious pain, and as a result, lacking in patience.
“Why don’t you just get on with it.”
“Yes.” The officer turned sideways and took a few steps. “Why don’t we indeed?”
Without warning, the Arab turned and buried his fist deep into Dempsey’s broken ribs. Dempsey fell to his knees moaning in pain. He grabbed Dempsey’s face with one hand and his hair with the other while the guards pulled his hands away from his body, twisting the broken wrist behind his back.
Dempsey felt hot breath on his face. “Okay, we shall get on with it. But are you sure that is what you want?”
Dempsey was gasping from pain through his tightly gritted teeth and opened his eyes to spit in his tormentor’s face. The beating that followed left Dempsey unconscious and bleeding internally.
Five miles east of Wasit Prison Facility
East Central Iraq
Wright and his squad of five had traveled five miles from the compound to the top of a small ridge. From this position, they could make out soldiers below and behind them. The Iraqis were about a half a mile back, searching carefully through the brush. Apparently, they did not believe the Americans could have gotten as far away as they did.
Wright needed time to evaluate the situation. The most important thing to do now was to second guess their pursuers and elude capture. The pursuing force would soon realize that they had escaped and set up a dragnet around them. He looked at his charts with his pen flashlight. They were southeast of the compound on a predictable course to the Persian Gulf. This is probably exactly the direction the Iraqis would expect them to take. He decided to take a chance and turn north toward Turkey.
Wasit Prison Facility
East Central Iraq
Prisoner Barracks
The dirty, bloody Marines were brought into the dorm. The looks on their faces said it all. They were all enlisted men, so Taylor took charge as some of the passengers tried to help the wounded. Some of the passengers made bandages while others brought water and blankets for them to lie on.
Taylor was trying to get information. “Didn’t any officers survive?”
The Marines remained silent.
“Well? Do I have to repeat myself?”
“Sir, I’m sorry, sir. We’re under orders not to discuss the mission with anyone,” a young sergeant finally answered.
“You can tell me if any officers were taken to another location.”
“That is affirmative. A colonel survived and was taken from us when we arrived here.”
“Were you part of a rescue attempt?”
The question met with more silence.
“What were your casualties? I’m ordering you to answer me!”
“I’m sorry, sir. We are under direct orders from our colonel.”
His meaning was clear. A colonel outranked a Captain, and these men were going to follow their orders.
Rob pulled Taylor back. “That’s okay, Marine. You don’t have to answer any questions. You’ve all been through a lot, so why don’t you just lie down and let us take care of you.”
The sergeant was obviously exhausted and laid down on his blanket. Rob turned back toward Taylor.
Taylor glared at Rob. “I’ve had it with your attitude!”
“And I’ve had it with yours!”
Nancy pushed between them. “What is going on! Who are you two fighting, anyway? Have you forgotten who put you both in here in the first place?”
Before anything else could be said, the doors opened and Colonel Dempsey was dumped onto the floor. All of the Marines quickly ran to his aid. He was unconscious and shaking, having been severely beaten.
The Cheetah sat near the center of the dorm and assessed the situation. The introduction of so many highly trained Marines severely complicated things. The mission still had to be completed. It had been four years now that the Cheetah had operated and never met with defeat. Each mission had its problems, but in each situation, the Cheetah had found success.
As night went on, the Cheetah thought more and more of the Egyptian colonel who held them prisoner. The Cheetah was also Egyptian and understood the hate that he held for the Americans. But under no circumstance could the Cheetah be exposed. It was tempting to give information about what these prisoners were planning, but that would only let the prisoners know that a spy was in their midst. The Israeli officer, whoever he might be, would certainly become suspicious and make the job harder for the Cheetah to discover who he was. For now, the Cheetah must remain quiet, even if it means allowing the prisoners to escape.
Day Six
Main Operations Center, USS Roosevelt
Persian Gulf
The Roosevelt’s Operations Center had been busy all night trying to put together what went wrong. After there had been no communication with Red Knight team for nearly two hours, a single CH-53E Super Stallion had been sent out at 1:30 A.M. with a small recon team to find out what had happened. The recon team had arrived at the target area around 5:30 A.M. but were unable to get within twenty miles of the compound because of the heavy air and ground activity. As a result, they were unable to find or recover any wreckage from any of the helicopters.
“Sir, Red Knight Rescue is heading back.”
“Captain,” another voice announced. “It’s the Secretary of State.”
Captain Brodie thought for a minute about the time difference. It would be early evening in Washington. He flipped the console on in front of him, and the secretary appeared.
“Am I looking at this picture right, Captain? I show twenty-two Marines and twelve Sea Knight crew members dead or missing, along with four choppers and two hummers.” He dropped the paper from which he was reading and took off his glasses. “Am I reading this right, Captain?”
Brodie sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes, sir. You’ve got it all right.”
“I’d fire you, you understand, if we weren’t at war. But we are.” The secretary paused thoughtfully and shook his head. “I don’t even have the luxury of firing you, and you don’t have
the luxury of quitting. We’re in trying times, and I need everyone where they are, doing what they do, including you. Don’t even think of turning in your resignation, not after this. I don’t know where to go from here because I only get what you give me. So I’m putting the ball back in your court. I don’t know if those men are alive or dead, but I’m leaving it up to you. Come up with something, and do it soon. And Captain, I don’t want to see any more dead.”
Brodie thought about asking him to reconsider his resignation, but he knew it was no good. His request would not even be considered until after this war was over. Besides, even if he resigned, it wouldn’t bring his men back. He knew these men were his responsibility, and he didn’t need anyone pointing that out to him. Even though the decisions had been made by other people, he would ultimately be blamed. He had done everything right. He had done it by the book and still his men had died. No one there felt the loss more than he, and he alone would have to pay the consequences for their deaths.
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