Ron Schwartz - The Griffins Heart.txt
Page 12
Wasit Prison Facility
East Central Iraq
Prisoner Barracks
With morning’s arrival, the Marines awoke and began to familiarize themselves with their fellow prisoners. Taylor became more frustrated with them as they continued to withhold information he requested. It was early in the afternoon before the colonel woke up. Taylor was first in line waiting to talk to him.
“Colonel.” Taylor stood at attention. “May I have a word with you.”
“At ease, Captain. We’re all prisoners here.”
“Sir, my name is Captain Taylor. I’m from the First Armor Division, U.S. Army, sir.”
“What’s on your mind, Captain?”
“Sir, your men have refused to give me any information as to their mission or division. I request that you instruct them to give me the courtesy due an officer of my rank.”
Dempsey paused, gazing at Taylor sharply enough to pierce a hole right through him. Then, with his index finger, he motioned Taylor to come closer. Taylor knelt down and drew close to Dempsey. When he was within reaching distance, Dempsey grabbed his shirt and pulled his face up to his own. “That question will be the last question you ask either me or my men. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir!”
”You will address me as Colonel Dempsey and my men by whatever name they choose to give you. You will refrain from questioning their names, missions, or anything else that they choose not to share with you.”
Taylor was visibly embarrassed by his reprimand and wisely chose to remain silent.
Dempsey tossed him back and turned his attention to his men. “You all know the code. You all know the drill. We talked about this day. Now let’s just do what we’re paid to do. Okay?”
Dempsey then turned his attention to Rob. “You’re the captain of this flight?
Rob hesitated, not knowing how to respond.
“It’s not necessary to respond, Captain. I’ve seen the intelligence reports on who killed those terrorists and who flew the plane.”
“And just how did you come across that kind of information?”
“Does it surprise you? That I know?”
“Yes, it does.”
The colonel smiled approvingly. Then, just as quickly, his face became serious again. “Just don’t quit on me now, okay?”
“Well, just let me say that I’ll do everything I’m capable of.”
“How should I address you?”
“Just Captain, please.”
“Well, Captain, do you know how we were able to find you?”
“Yes, sir.”
That was enough for the colonel. Now he knew for sure that these passengers sent the first transmissions. “Could the same events be repeated?”
“Without question.”
“Do you play cards, Captain?”
“Sometimes.”
“Well, to answer the question in your mind, we don’t want to play our Joker until we draw out their trump. Understand?”
Rob nodded. Reusing the transmission of the surveillance camera would be a last resort.
Dempsey decided to change the subject. “Tell me about the arrogant little punk who beat me when I arrived.”
“Oh, him. That’s just his way of introducing himself.”
Dempsey looked Rob over, noting the cuts and bruises on his face. “So you’ve already been properly introduced I see.”
“He’s definitely not Iraqi. Somehow he’s been educated in the West, probably in America. He seems to despise the Iraqis and considers them fools. My guess is that the Iraqis have used his knowledge of American systems and then stuck him out here because they couldn’t stand him or he couldn’t get along with them.”
“You’re probably correct, Captain. He’s most likely Egyptian, because they are the only Arab nation with whom we have an officer exchange program. But go on.”
“Before you, your men, and the Captain over there showed up, I kept his focus on me by making it personal between him and me. I’m concerned because he seems to feel that our very existence is a threat to his... being a whole man in some way.”
Worry shot across Dempsey’s face. “He doesn’t need all of us, does he.”
Rob shook his head. “He’s going to try to break us in some way to prove his superiority over us, and when or if he does, he no longer needs any of us.”
Dempsey looked down, then back at Rob. “It’s you and me, isn’t it? He doesn’t need to destroy everyone, just our best.”
“One of us must hold out no matter what.”
“Son, I’m in no shape for it.”
The door opened. Esfandiari entered, flashing a broad smile. “My, don’t we have a nice little group.”
Dempsey struggled to his feet. “Sir, I must insist that you release these civilians. They’re not soldiers or criminals.”
Esfandiari turned quickly on his heels to face him and smirked. “You? You are in no position to insist on anything, are you?”
“Sir, it isn’t necessary to hold them now that you have us.”
The Arab turned his head slightly to stare deep into the colonel. “Then you do understand. If that is the case, then you must also realize that these people are necessary to witness your repentance.” He turned to look directly at Rob. “And you will repent.”
Rob could no longer stay silent. He leaned nonchalantly against the wall. “You know, most people have to make others pay to be part of the audience, but not you. The only audience you can keep is at gunpoint.”
Esfandiari's face turned to stone.
Rob crossed his arms. “Face it. The only way you can get someone to appreciate you is at gunpoint. Why, I bet you sleep with your door locked and a gun under your pillow, afraid one of your own men would shoot you. I’ll bet you pay these men extra just to watch your... ”
“Enough!” Esfandiari jerked his gun from his holster and pointed it at Rob. His hand was shaking and his teeth were clenched. Then, almost immediately, his face relaxed, and he returned his gun to its holster. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and walked out.
Rob turned to Dempsey just as Dempsey began to laugh. “Do you always get under people’s skin so easily or were you just lucky?”
Rob just smiled.
Wasit Prison Facility
East Central Iraq
Prisoner Barracks
Rob stared out the window, watching the hills in the distance as the sun began to set and studying the quiet sergeant standing beside him. “Do you have a name?”
“Rock. They just call me Sergeant Rock.”
Rob couldn’t help but notice how his name fit him, given the size and build of this impressive African-American. Rock was not the tallest of the Marines, but he certainly appeared to be the strongest. He looked like an NFL running back, huge muscles swelling from his chest and arms. The drab green T-shirt seemed barely able to contain him. His square face and piercing eyes shouted, Don’t mess with me. He was the one everyone wanted on their side. “Do you have a family?” Rob asked.
“Nope. You?”
Rob looked back out the window. “Well, I used to.” He turned to Rock to change the subject. “How did you get a name like Rock?”
“Well, I guess it’s because I've always been big and solid. I once hit a man and killed him. I didn’t think I hit him that hard, but I guess I did.”
“You must have gotten in trouble for that.”
“Well, no, actually it was the kind of fight where you’re supposed to hurt the other guy.”
“I see. So now you go by Rock?”
“Yeah. One of the guys said, ‘What do you have, a rock for a fist?’ It just sorta stuck.”
“All of you seem to go by some kind of nickname rather than your real name. John Boy, Chad, Hawk, Micro, Ducky. Is that just some sort of military thing or is there a reason for it?”
Rock looked uncomfortable with the question and looked around before he answered. “We don’t carry dogtags or other ID. You see, some of us have boun
ties on our heads from different terrorist organizations and hostile governments. Bottom line... most of us don’t even know the real names of our buddies. You get used to it, though.”
Rob nodded in approval. “You seem to be Colonel Dempsey’s main man.”
“Well, I guess you could say that.” Rock smiled. “See, I’ve been with the colonel the longest of anyone in this group. I’ve been with him for almost ten years now. I was with him when he was still a captain.”
Rob liked this man immediately and couldn’t help but feel comfortable with him. “I know you all have your specialties, so what’s yours?”
Rock’s face suddenly turned from smiling and tender to rock solid and cold. He turned to look squarely at Rob. “I kill people.”
Something in the way he said it chilled Rob to the bone. He understood why they called him Rock. It was because he was just as cold.
The dorm’s door opened, and a dozen Iraqi soldiers came in. “You will all come with us.” The passengers and Marines were taken to another large room that resembled a small windowless gymnasium. Everyone was lined up along one wall, giving them the eerie feeling of being in front of a firing squad. The group was facing the other end of the gym where a small hall led to a set of double doors. It was no surprise that Esfandiari walked into the gym through those doors. The surprise came when a seven-and-a-half-foot giant walked in behind him.
The giant, wearing an Iraqi uniform, was an enormous man in both size and strength. He stood at ease with his hands behind his back and studied the group without emotion as Esfandiari moved to the center of the gym.
“I have decided to accept your captain’s challenge,” Esfandiari announced, looking at Rob. He took in the rest of the group, then gestured toward the giant. “May I present Mir Al-Hamradt. He will represent me in battle against your champions. Which one of you will be the first to battle him to the death?”
“That’s enough!” Dempsey stepped forward. “None of us are going to do any fighting. Let me remind you that we are prisoners of your government, and as such, you are responsible for our safety.”
Esfandiari said nothing as he studied Dempsey carefully.
Rob knew that Esfandiari would take any opportunity to kill someone, so he took advantage of Esfandiari’s hesitation to warn Dempsey. “Colonel, he means it.” But even as Rob spoke, Esfandiari drew his pistol and shot one of the Marines in the head. The prisoners near him scattered, screaming as he fell, his blood pooling on the floor. Marie tried to shield her children by staying in front of them, but there was no way to protect all of them at once. Nancy tried to help her, but the children naturally clung to their mother, screaming in terror.
“No!” Rob jumped forward. “I’ll fight him. Just no more!”
“No, you won’t.” Dempsey put up his hand, motioning Rob to back off. “He’s crossed the line now. He’s gone too far.”
Almost immediately, a tall blond Marine known only as “Ducky” stepped forward to take the challenge. Some of the other prisoners were still crying as the guards dragged the bloody dead Marine from the rest of the group. Most believed they had been brought here to be killed.
Dempsey straightened. “Don’t worry. Ducky’s a third degree black belt. He’s the best we’ve got.”
The other Marines seemed to share Dempsey’s confidence.
Esfandiari was not amused. “Just in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’ll explain it to you.” He grinned. “You are my prisoners, not my government’s, and I’ll do with you as I please.”
Ducky’s slender body was conditioned for martial arts fighting. He didn’t possess the bulging muscles many of the other Marines did, but his arm and legs were well-toned. Being muscle bound can sometimes get in the way of a fighter, and his fighting style resembled that of a striking snake.
He was not the largest of the Marines, but now, standing near the giant, his six-foot one-inch height seemed only half that size. The unit was very proud of the trophies and awards Ducky had earned, and their respect for him was quite evident. If Ducky were at all concerned or afraid, he hid it very well.
Ducky approached the giant and attacked him without warning. First, he gave a kick to the stomach, then a solid jab to the chest. The giant grunted slightly at the kick but caught Ducky’s jab effortlessly with his left hand. The giant grabbed Ducky with his other hand and tossed him across the gym.
Rock was muttering under his breath. “It’s okay. He usually has a slow start.”
Ducky was back on his feet almost immediately and attacked with a grueling display of kicks and jabs, most of which seemed inconsequential to the giant. The giant’s lack of concern was disturbing to the other Marines, and they exchanged worried glances. Ducky was in trouble.
Finally, the giant tired of toying with Ducky and grabbed his arm, cracking it like a stick in his hands. The sound echoed across the gym.
Ducky screamed, holding his mangled arm as he dropped to his knees.
Rob couldn’t stand by any longer. “Okay! You won! Now stop this!”
“No... No... No!” Esfandiari insisted. “Your colonel has accepted this challenge. We will continue.” He pointed his gun directly at one of the young girls. “You will all stay where you are.”
Ducky was in terrible pain as he struggled to his feet and stood in a defensive position, waiting. When the giant approached Ducky, he dropped down on his left ankle and swung his right leg around, hooking the giant’s ankle and pulling his feet out from under him. As the giant crashed backward onto the floor, a weak cheer could be heard from the prisoners. Not a word, however, came from the Marines, who understood just how grave the situation really was.
Ducky tried to look confident as he braced himself for another attack. His initial overconfidence had cost him his arm and could end up costing him his life if he made another mistake. The giant got to his feet much more carefully now. Both of these men had found respect for each other.
The giant jabbed carefully at Ducky, knowing that his arm span easily outmatched that of his opponent. Ducky now seemed only able to block. He had to wait for an opportunity to use his speed should the giant make a mistake. He was slowly being maneuvered by the giant down the short hallway but he was helpless to prevent it. It took all his skill to just avoid or block all the kicks and jabs. The pain and the constant onslaught of blows were beginning to take their toll: Ducky was weakening.
With Ducky’s back pressed firmly against the wall, the giant was able to catch his chin with the back of his right hand. Ducky spun to the floor, and the giant was quite ready to take advantage of the situation. He grabbed Ducky around the chest, lifting him into the air. Ducky struggled, kicked, and finally cried out as his ribs and back broke. The giant dropped him to the floor like a limp rag.
Ducky was dead.
Ducky’s easy defeat broke the confidence of the rest of the Marines. He was their best fighter, and no one believed that they could succeed where he failed. So it was predictable that no other volunteers were waiting when he failed.
This fact seemed to surprise and excite Esfandiari. He kept gun trained on the girl. “Who’s next? You will all face this man, or I will shoot you where you stand. So decide, either fight and die like a man or be shot like a dog.”
Rob edged away from the wall with his hands up. “Listen, you’ve made your point. What more do you want from us?”
Esfandiari’s lips curled, feeding on the fear of his prisoners. “You.” Esfandiari pointed at Chad. “I want you next.”
Chad’s mouth dropped open slightly, and he glanced over at his commander. He was taller and stronger than Ducky and skilled in hand-to-hand combat. His considerable strength and skill that would easily outmatch an opponent in normal situations now seemed dreadfully inadequate.
He had no distinguishing physical qualities setting him apart from the other Marines. His well-defined physique was typical of his unit. But his dark hair, dark brown eyes and a face that might grace the cover of GQ magazine, he might easi
ly mistaken for a model.
He set his face into combat mode, controlling his fear as he moved forward and rolled up his sleeves. His fellow Marines offered advice.