Ron Schwartz - The Griffins Heart.txt

by The Griffin's Heart(Lit)

  “Stay low, man.”

  “Ducky’s swing kick worked good.”

  “Keep away from his arms.”

  “Get behind him.”

  The suggestions were obvious, and Chad already knew them, but he also understood that his friends were just understandably worried. He approached the giant slowly, and this time, it was the giant who attacked first, jabbing his right fist at Chad's face.

  Chad ducked down and stepped forward, then swung upward quickly, landing a powerful fist under the giant’s chin. The giant stepped backward slightly, giving Chad another opportunity. He kicked the giant’s knee, sending him to the floor. He kicked again to the chest, knocking the giant completely down.

  Encouraged by Chad’s success, the prisoners became hopeful but not for long. The giant quickly returned to his feet and kicked forward, catching Chad in the stomach and sending him into the air. He impacted on a wall and slid down to a kneeling position, badly hurt by just one kick.

  Chad struggled to his feet and began to circle the gym as if trying to maneuver around him. The giant watched his circle in amusement. “Come a little closer, “ he teased. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

  Esfandiari laughed as he watched, thoroughly enjoying every minute. He savored the respect and fear he was finally getting from these spoiled, arrogant Americans.

  Chad was becoming desperate. Every time he approached the giant to kick or strike, he was met by a powerful stroke that sent him tumbling to the floor. He struggled to remain conscious and out of the giant’s reach. If those huge hands captured him, it would be his end.

  By now, Chad was bleeding from the mouth and nose, holding his chest where several powerful kicks had broken ribs on both sides. But even with his injuries, he was proving to be a tougher competitor than even he believed. But another grueling kick sent him into a corner from which there was no escape. He tried to crawl free but was caught in the grasp of the giant. The giant grabbed the back of his neck with his right hand and forced his head to the floor. Then, with a mighty stomp, it was over.

  Every head turned away from the gruesome sight. Most of the women and children were crying, and the men were begging not to be next. Rob stepped out again, facing Esfandiari directly. “It’s my turn.”

  Marie turned at the sound of Rob’s voice, horrified, but she held her tongue as her heart felt crushed within her chest. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to herself and her children. But, she thought, how could Rob possibly be so willing to force his family watch him be slaughtered?

  “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  Rob’s despised the Arab and bristled at his sarcasm. “No, I want you... next.”

  As Rob approached the giant, memories of the old rabbi filled his mind, especially his last words to him: “You have the heart of David.” He struggled not to cry or shake from fear. He knew he dared not look back at the others, especially Marie and his children. He could not afford to partake in their fear, so he continued his careful advance.

  “What is this?” bellowed the giant. “Have you sent me a squirrel to butcher? Come close, and I’ll be quick with you.”

  Rob could feel his body shaking and knew that terror must be emanating from his face. He looked at Esfandiari, knowing that his smugness would give him strength, strength enough to kill. He let the image of the Arab’s face sear into his mind until he went mad with rage, and then, with a howl, he tore into the giant.

  The attack took the giant totally by surprise as Rob struck the giant with useless kicks and jabs. But the giant easily picked him up with one hand and threw him against the wall, knocking his breath from him and causing momentary disorientation. The giant laughed as Rob stumbled from side to side.

  Rob’s anger continued to mount. There had been enough useless death, enough punishment for unknown crimes. Into his mind flashed the memories: the Israeli soldiers being shot in front of him while he hid in the closet, the flight crew being executed for no reason at all, Chad’s life being squeezed out of him as he struggled for his life. He charged forward again and again, taking the giant by surprise with his voracity. This time a well-placed kick to the groin put the giant on his knees. He kicked his knee upward, breaking the giant’s nose and splattering blood over both of them. The blow sent them both backward to the floor in opposite directions.

  When Rob opened his eyes, he saw only boots in front of him, Esfandiari’s boots. His strength was instantly renewed, and he stood up to strike Esfandiari down with his fist as hard as he could. He turned around just in time to see the giant charging him. As he stepped backward to avoid the collision, he tripped backward over Esfandiari. The giant tried to stop to avoid stepping on Esfandiari also. The giant came to a halt directly over Rob, who kicked upward into the giant’s groin as hard as he could.

  Pain shot through the giant, and his knees began to shake. Rob stood, doubled up both fists, and struck the giant in the neck. He had lost his fear, and now he watched the giant fall to the ground.

  Dazed but aware that someone was yelling for him, Rob turned around just in time to see a club swinging toward his side. It was Esfandiari, Rob realized as the club impacted on his abdomen. He had just enough strength left to grab the club and counter with a fist to Esfandiari’s chin.

  But now the giant had returned! A fist almost the size of a basketball collided with Rob’s face. He fell to the floor bleeding from all parts of his face. Only his uncontrollable rage kept him conscious and pulled him to his feet. As Rob turn around and saw the giant charging him again, he tightened his fist. But something solid prevented it. The club! It was still in his hands! He backed up and swung the club at the giant as hard as he could. The giant shifted slightly, sending the blow over his right shoulder.

  The giant had him in his grasp and began to squeeze his chest. He struggled vainly to free himself from the giant’s vise-like grip so he could breathe. He was desperate as he felt the life draining from his body. With one last effort, he managed to swing the club over the giant’s shoulder, striking the middle of the giant’s back with a solid blow. The giant’s body jerked, and his grip momentarily eased enough for Rob to draw another breath. The giant was shaking in anger and tossed Rob backward over his shoulder.

  Rob reached up to grab the giant’s left ear. As he went over, his left elbow hooked under the giant’s chin just as his hand gripped the ear firmly. Feeling the momentum, he dropped the club and gripped both fists together as he swung his body over the giant’s left shoulder.

  The momentum of his body pulled the giant’s head up and to his left at a higher and higher angle that a head was never meant to go. For a moment, both he and the giant seemed to freeze in motion as he struggled to maintain his grip around the giant’s powerful neck. It was the irresistible force against the immovable object, and the object moved.

  Then, as if a miracle took place in the most hopeless of circumstances, the giant’s head twisted almost completely around. Then with a quiet snap that seemed to echo across the gym, the giant dropped to the floor with Rob on top of him. It was over, and just like that time thousands of years before in this very part of the earth, once again David slew Goliath!

  Marie was still kneeling on the floor, the children’s faces tucked into her chest, their backs to the fight. Her body was trembling slightly as she resisted crying. She tried not to listen to the battle before her, but she couldn’t help noticing the sudden shouts of joy. Was it over?

  There was only one way to know for sure. She lifted her head slowly to look. As her unbelieving eyes fell on the bloodied and beaten Rob standing over his beaten opponent, everything seemed to stand motionless in time. He stood alone on his field of valor, as a knight who had just taken his kingdom. He stood alone and defied the odds. She couldn’t help remembering the rabbi’s last words to her about him: he has the heart of David.

  Rob looked from face to face, feeling as if he should say something. But what words could possibly express his feelings at that m
oment? How could he possibly verbalize his joyless victory without lessening the humility he felt? Was it victory or just dumb luck? Was it skill or simply fate? What could he possibly say that wouldn’t belittle the situation? His wandering gaze stopped, focusing on Esfandiari’s bewildered face.

  He tried to smile through his swollen face without success. He wiped the dripping blood from his nose. “Sometimes the battle isn’t given to the strong and the swift.” He paused for dramatic affect. “Sometimes battles are won by the desperate determination... of fools like me.” His expression hardened as he returned Esfandiari’s stare. “You’re next.”

  Esfandiari swallowed hard, and for a moment, he showed the slightest bit of real fear before he pulled himself out of the room.

  Rock rushed to Rob and hugged him. “Man, I been in some hot spots, but what you did... Man, that’s gotta be the bravest thing I ever saw.”

  Day Seven

  Wasit Prison Facility

  East Central Iraq

  Prisoner Barracks

  Rob was sitting talking with Marie, Nancy, and Terry as Logan approached him. He braced himself, uncertain about what Logan might have to say.

  Logan positioned himself behind Rob so he could speak to him privately. “You know that it’s going to get worse. Much worse. Esfandiari has no regard for human life. He has but one objective: to beat you.”

  “What do you suggest I do? Lose?”

  “Absolutely not! It’s most important that you keep on winning!”

  From his position nearby, Dempsey couldn’t help but overhear and grinned sardonically. “With all due respect, mister, I think it is always our objective to win. None of us want to lose, but we sometimes do. I think that it would be better for us to plan a course of action in case he doesn’t always win. Look at this man.” Dempsey indicated Rob. “Look at the shape he’s in. No one can expect him to keep on going like this.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “I think we need to seriously consider a plan of escape.”

  “We’re in the middle of Iraq!”

  “Yes, we are.” Dempsey shook his head. “Look, it’s true that we’re in the middle of Iraq, but that still has not stopped you from beating these Arabs at every turn, and that’s while you’re basically in prison. The way I see it, if we can get out of this compound, we’ll have at least evened the playing field and more than likely improved our chances of surviving. Look around you, at the rate this madman is killing us off, we’ll all be dead in a week or two.”

  “You’ve got a good point, but these people are not Marines. They’re not going to be able to live in that desert for long.”

  “I understand that, but I believe we could get help from some of the remote northern tribes that hate the current Iraqi government. We’ve just got to make contact.”

  “Well, I guess it’s my turn to speak candidly,” Logan interrupted. “Israel has maintained contact with several factions of the Iraqi Kurds for over a decade now.”

  “Even so,” Dempsey countered, “how is that going to help us, and just how do you know?”

  “You’ll find that he knows a lot of things,” Rob added.

  Logan smiled. “If you can get us just north of Samarra, I can make contact with the Kurds.”

  Dempsey stared at Logan for a long time, wondering how he could do what he said and whether he could even be trusted. “I guess there are some things I’m better off not knowing.”

  It was Taylor’s turn to speak. “From a tactical standpoint, I can tell you that we have two primary options. The first is a night escape, requiring us to escape on foot and try to maneuver through the ambush waiting out there. I think this option gives us a high degree of success if we were all military. The problem is the large number of women and children. We could not hope to get very far on foot, nor could we expect it to be quiet.”

  “The second option is to attempt a daylight escape and take advantage of the Armor vehicles parked here in the daytime. The problem is we would be escaping at a time when the compound is reinforced with the most guards, and we would be exposed to air attacks.”

  Dempsey’s face was expressionless. “Neither option possesses very much promise.”

  “My point, exactly.”

  “Well, then, just what can we do?” Dempsey turned to Rob. “Do you think you can pull another rabbit out of that hat of yours?”

  Rob shifted uneasily in his chair. “What about help? Do you think it’s possible that the military will attempt another rescue?”

  “After what happened the first time? Even if they did, it wouldn’t be for weeks. Maybe not at all.”

  “Listen, let’s just all think about it and get together tomorrow to talk again. Okay?”

  Marine Tactical Unit

  Diyala Territory, Twenty-Five Miles west of Mandali

  East Iraq

  Wright and his men had followed the road for almost fifty miles. It looked like a seldom-used military road that headed north in the direction of Samarra. As morning approached, they parked their jeep about a hundred yards off the road and covered it with shrubs. They had seen no military activity at all since stumbling onto the missile truck the night before. It was mid-morning now and Wright’s turn at watch. It was a beautiful day, and now and then, high up in the sky, he could see the vapor trails of jet fighters tracing across the sky.

  Wright noticed a sergeant approaching him. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  “No, it’s going to be my watch in a half hour, so I thought I’d come and relieve you a little early.”

  The sergeant was a recent transfer and, as such, Wright had not gotten to know him very well. He decided to change that. “You go by the name of Hawk?”

  “That’s right, sir.”

  “Is it because you’re Native American?”

  “Yes, and straight from a reservation, sir.”

  “No more sirs, Marine. We’re all in this together.”

  “I understand, s...”

  “Your record says you’ve had special training in nuclear counteraction. What was that all about?”

  “Well, it was a six month course in which I was trained in the handling and arming of nuclear weapons. The Navy believes it’s only a matter of time before the spread of nuclear weapons makes it necessary for their counterinsurgent teams to have their own nuclear weapons specialist along.”

  Wright didn’t respond, waiting for more detail.

  “I was given broad exposure to the actual facilities the U.S. uses to manufacture plutonium and construct nuclear weapons. They taught me about the different arming mechanisms and how to defeat them. It was really quite interesting. Do you think any of that might help us?”

  Wright leaned back and glanced around from his perch on a tall rock. “Well, no one knows just how far along the Iraqis are on their nuclear development.” Then he looked back at the sergeant. “Well, it’s not going to hurt us to be ready for anything we might come across. You just never know for sure.”

  The sergeant moved to his left, having spotted some movement in the bushes several hundred yards from them. “Captain.”

  “I see it. Go get the others and spread out.” Wright kept watch through his binoculars. He could see that the group approaching their position was not Iraqi soldiers but desert tribesmen. Rather than fleeing in the daylight, he made the hard decision to stay put and make contact.

  When the tribesmen were about a hundred feet from where he sat, they saw him. They were immediately startled and began to look around for other soldiers. Wright’s dark fatigues were not typical of the Iraqi soldier, making the situation even more complicated for the tribesmen.

  Wright mustered his best Arabic. “With what tribe are you?”

  The group of men snickered and whispered to each other. One of the older men stepped forward. “You asked us, ‘where walks the tribe,’” the old man answered in English. “I don’t think that is what you meant.”

  Wright was surprised. “Then you speak English? How did you know?
”

  The old man kept walking until he stood just below Wright. “It is not polite for a stranger to greet another sitting down.”

  “Well, for right now, you will have just have to put up with my bad manners.”

  “So typical of Americans. I should not be surprised. But isn’t it good enough to have your men scattered about us with their weapons ready?”

  Wright slid down off the rock to face the old man on the ground. “How do you know that I am American, and what makes you think there are men around us?”

  “Your eyes. Your skin. Your accent. Your bad manners. You are not an Iraqi soldier, and you would certainly not be sitting in this desert alone.”

  Wright tried to size up this old man. He was hoping to make contact with a northern tribe, but now that the opportunity had come, he didn’t know if he could trust them.