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Second That EmotionChapter 11 free porn video
Lt. Bakr talked for over an hour, explaining where our Intel people figured would be the best place to make the SnG, what time would be best to take him, how many and what kinds of Iraqi units would be in the area, how we were going to get there and get back out, what we should pack, our radio call signs and frequencies, and the emergency pick up points if we were forced to deviate from the schedule.
I listened and made suggestions if I had any, took an occasional note, but otherwise let him do all the talking. He was a very knowledgeable and well prepared guy, for someone who'd never done this sort of thing before. I think one of the primary reasons he'd been chosen for this mission, apart from his intimate knowledge of the language and area, was that he could physically pass for a native.
I, on the other hand, was going to stand out like a cat at a dog show.
Isabeau,I wish you nothing but joy and a long and happy life.
Remember me fondly, if you can.
Ike
I folded up the note and tucked it into the envelope, addressed it care of my father and took it with me to our meeting with the Colonel.
"We've got the weapons you requested," he began "and there has been no change in the schedule. You two will be picked up here by a Blackhawk gunship at 0330 this morning and inserted ten miles from your destination. A retrieval chopper will be on standby from then on waiting for your pickup call. Any questions?"
We didn't have any. Lt. Bakr left to get his gear in order and get something to eat. I stayed behind.
"Colonel, a moment please?"
"Of course. Is there a problem?"
"No sir. I have a favor to ask." I took out my letter and handed it to him. "If I don't make it back, would you send this on for me?"
"Don't start thinking like that, Sergeant. That's a damn good way to get yourself killed."
I smiled at him. He looked shocked. I guess he'd never seen me smile in all the time I'd been with his unit.
"Colonel, I'm gonna let you in on a little family secret. The reason I'm such a good killer is because I know everything there is to know about dying except for the lying down and staying put part. Pain, and fear, terror and hopelessness ... death doesn't faze me even a little. Death and I are tight. My grandfather told me, when I was young, that I could be a great hunter, but that I probably wouldn't have a very long or happy life. He was certainly right about the happy part. As for the long life, well ... we'll have to wait and see."
I linked with the man. He was worried. His guilt was also growing.
"Colonel, there is nothing for you to feel guilty about. Not a thing. I agreed to do this. Lt. Bakr and his general will make it back, and if at all possible so will I."
I projected back along the link as much positive feeling as I could find within myself. It wasn't much but I think it helped.
"I'll take care of it." He said.
"Thank you Colonel."
The insertion went off without a hitch, just as planned. The Blackhawk set us down twenty five miles inside the Iraqi border. We hiked to our final destination, about ten miles from the Landing Zone and dug in before it got light out. Under cover and wearing ghillie suits, Lt. Bakr and I waited out the daylight hours observing the movements and numbers of the Iraqi position.
They were a mix of infantry, four 122-mm. M-1974 (2S1) Self-Propelled Howitzers and a couple of, what looked to me like, BMP-2 Infantry Fighting Vehicles, as well as a couple of covered flatbed trucks and three small quarter ton pickup trucks. We counted forty three troops and twelve officers, none higher ranking than a Major.
The terrain in front of the Iraqi's camp was nearly flat, with a few dips and gullies to break up the mind numbing emptiness. Behind them, where we were, were a few small hills. Thru these hills ran the one and only hard packed dirt road for miles. It was along this road that our General was expected to arrive within the next twenty four hours. If he came at all. We were dug in two miles from the Iraqi's, on top of one of the small hills north of their encampment, but fairly close to a dogleg bend in the road. The General's convoy would have to pass below us. Lt. Bakr kept lookout for the General and his escort, while I kept watch on the enemy. Fortunately for us they didn't seem interested in sending patrols out. As long as we didn't do anything stupid, they would never know we were there.
The sun went down gradually, and the temperature began to drop. We were just beginning to eat our evening meal, when I noticed an increase in activity inside the Iraqi encampment.
"I think someone just got word the General is on his way." I murmured to the Lt. He eased out his starlight spotting scope and began scanning up the road.
"I've got lights heading this way. Looks like two vehicles. Shit! A BMW sedan and an EE-9 (Cascavel Armored Car). Maybe six klicks away.
Last night when we arrived and picked out our observation position, we'd set up three Claymore mines alongside the road. Our plan was to cripple the vehicles in the convoy, at least long enough for me to kill the General's bodyguard and escort. Lt. Bakr would grab the General, secure him and get him away from the site and headed towards the primary evac location. My job at that point was to ensure that the unit below us thought I was an invasion force and spent all their effort trying to get me and not go looking for the missing General.
Yeah, not the greatest plan of all time, I know. We really could have used a few more troops, but two was what we had. I could see more clearly why the Colonel had been feeling so guilty. Even with a full SnG team this would have been iffy.
I unwrapped the L96A1, attached the starlight scope and laid out twenty rounds of it's 7.62x51 ammo. I also brought out my Glock and an extra clip of the armor piercing rounds. The clip I put into my right front pocket, the Glock I released the safety on and checked to be sure there was a round in the chamber. Satisfied, I put it back in the shoulder holster. Lt. Bakr put his AK-47 in semi auto mode and checked the safety on his Beretta. We were as ready as we were going to get.
I took a long drink from the camel pack I wore under my BDUs, strapped to my body like a backpack. Not only did it help keep me cool in the heat, but it was an extra source of water, apart from the canteens we carried.
I quickly scanned the Iraqi encampment one last time. They were still getting ready for the General's arrival. But nobody was coming out to meet him. Good. That would have really complicated the hell out of things.
Lt. Bakr was the Marine and the expert with the Claymores. He held the remote detonator and waited patiently for the BMW, which was leading the tiny parade, to reach the first mine then set it off.
The explosion was loud, but not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Must have done a lot of damage though, because the front end of the BMW suddenly shifted to one side, the front wheel on the driver side exploded and the car went off the road and rolled onto its side.
The Lt. hit the remaining switches at the same time, as the APC began to slow down. Both mines exploded, taking out the front tires of the vehicle. It skidded to a dusty stop.
Lt. Bakr jumped to his feet and ran down our hill towards the disabled beemer, AK-47 held across his chest. I looked thru the scope scanning the APC. Two bodies moving slightly thru the slits in the front. I linked and fired twice. I moved my sights to the back and upper portion and waited for movement.
Then the back hatch of the APC swung open and a head popped out, followed by a large body carrying what looked like a .30 cal machine gun. I waited till he cleared the back door and linked. One round thru the ear. Pull back the bolt, eject the brass, insert the round, slap the bolt forward and lock. Wait for the next man. They were staying down, using the door for cover and trying to get around the side and keep the APC between themselves and me. I saw a head. Linked and fired. Reload. The thing had a mounted machine gun on the top turret, but no one was coming out to use it. I kept watching.
Lt. Bakr had gotten to the BMW and was checking inside for the General. I heard his AK fire twice. I kept looking thru the scope. There had to have been more than just two men in the back of that carrier. I kept looking.
Meanwhile I heard the Lt. cursing, at least it sounded like cursing, and manhandling someone up the hill. I kept my eyes on the APC.
The Lt. shoved someone to the ground beside me, and growled something at the man. He reached into one of his saddlebag pockets and came out with a small roll of duct tape and tore off a strip and slapped it over the mouth of his prisoner. Back went the tape and out came a long black strip of plastic. Bakr used it to secure the man's wrists behind his back.
"This is our General." he finally said.
"Is he in good enough condition to move?"
"Yeah, he says his shoulder hurts, but that won't stop him from walking."
"Okay. We have one slight problem at the moment. Only two men came out of the back of the APC. There should have been at least one more. I'm going down to check, but I need you to keep an eye on the Iraqi's camp. They should have heard us by now. Let me know when they start coming this way."
"Alright, Sergeant. Be careful."
I lay the rifle down and picked up my AK and moved down the hill, towards the front of the APC. I ignored the bodies in the cab. I wanted to be on the far side of that back door, so I eased around to the side I couldn't see from the hill and moved softly, inching towards the back. I didn't hear anything. I could see the bodies of the two men I'd shot, lying sprawled on the road in crumpled heaps. I bent down and picked up a handful of small pebbles and tossed them against the steel back door, bouncing some into the opening. I heard the rattle around and settle on the floor of the carrier. But nothing else. I shoved the barrel of the AK into the doorway, ready to fire. There was a man lying inside, it looked as if he'd been slammed against the front of the carrier area when the mines went off and broken his neck. I tried to link, but he was gone. I headed back up the hill.
"There's two squads headed this way." Lt. Bakr informed me when I got back.
"How long before they get here?" I asked, taking the sniper rifle back from him.
"Maybe ten minutes."
"Damn! That doesn't give you much time. Take the General and haul ass for the evac site. I'll take out the squads; that should get their attention focused on me and give you enough time."
I moved over to our guest and rolled him onto his back. Looking hard into his eyes I linked with the man.
He was a burly, heavy chested man, probably in his early fifties, with the bushy mustache favored by the Iraqi general staff I'd seen pictures of. Right then he looked scared.
He felt scared, but there was also deception and cunning in there too.
"Ell-tee, do me a favor and tell our friend here something. Tell him that if he tries to escape, I'll hunt him down and make him beg for death."
Bakr, looked at me for a moment then rattled off a string of words I couldn't begin to follow.
Our prisoner nodded his head in understanding, but I didn't feel him accepting what he heard. I blasted him quickly with what it would feel like to have all the skin peeled off his chest. His fear level rocketed; his heart began to pound like a frightened rabbit and sweat broke out on his face even though the early morning air was chilly.
"Okay, I think he'll behave himself." I said, still staring into his eyes. "But don't cut him any slack. And don't release his arms till you've got someone else to watch him. Trust me, I was Army CID before I came out here. I know prisoners."
"Alright, Sergeant. I'll have the chopper wait as long as I can for you."
"No. You and our new buddy here have to get back ASAP. My job is making sure you do. I'll find my own way back. Now take off, we don't have much time."
He reached out and we shook hands. "It's been interesting working with you, Ike. Hurry back. I'll buy you a drink."
"Thank you, sir. I look forward to it."
I covered their escape from our spot on the hill until I lost my link with the general, then packed up my gear and moved to another location where I could see the ambush site a little better. I planned on using the sniper rifle for as long as possible, but then I'd have to rely on the AK.
I wished momentarily that I'd brought a few hand grenades, but I hadn't so wishing wasn't going to do me much good.
The two five man squads arrived just as I was settling into my new location. Eight men spread out and began searching the wreckage while two stayed with the pickup trucks they'd driven out in. I got off five rounds, before they figured out where I was and started firing back. Damn flash suppressors never work as well as advertised.
I eased down off the top of the mound and circled around towards their encampment, figuring they might try to pull out and get back home. I made it behind them on the road and moved up. Two more shots, two more kills. Only three left. I shifted position again, heading down along the road away from them. I ducked down and off the road into a shallow depression and waited.
I head one of the trucks start up. I set the sniper rifle down and brought the AK around. As soon as the pickup came into view I rose up and emptied the full clip into it. I popped the clip out and replaced it while the light truck barreled off the road and out into the desert, still headed in the direction of the Iraqi encampment.
I put the AK across my back, picked up the rifle and took off into the darkness, heading back towards the ambush site. I needed to collect some ammo clips. The sun would be coming up soon and I had to get under cover. I'd brought four tubes of sun blocker with me, but I had no idea how long I'd be out here, so I had to get hidden quick. And I had to draw attention to myself so they'd keep looking for me and not go off looking for Bakr and his prize.
The British L96A1 supposedly had a maximum effective range of 1,500 meters. The first part of my plan was going to test that assertion. The sun was up and it was getting hot. I'd buried my lower half under a light layer of sand and dirt, the remainder hidden (I hoped) beneath the ghillie suit. I'd chosen this site for two reasons.
It gave me a good open view of the Iraqi force, with a little height, and I could still see the ambush site and cover it too.
I still had eighty two rounds for the rifle, so with a bit of cooperation from my buddies down below, I'd be able to stay where I was and pick them off one by one.
Yeah, right.
My plan worked pretty well actually. I made four kills before they started keeping everyone under cover. The people who tested the L96A1 must have known what they were talking about. All my hits were made from over a kilometer away. Then some genius thought it would be a good idea to crank up an M-3 APC with a grenade launcher mounted on it and send it out, with ten men inside. I hadn't spotted the M-3 before. Must have been under cover being worked on.
I had to move.
The APC would fire off a grenade now and again, randomly. I had to crawl and creep slowly; I couldn't afford to raise any dust and give my position away and motion is what attracts the eye quickest.
After an hour of dragging my ass across the desert floor in slow motion I set up again. The M-3 was still out there, having deployed its small group of sacrificial victims who were now doing their best to keep hidden behind the APC's armored bulk. Some damn fool popped up out of the top looking like a prairie dog in a helmet. He started yelling orders to the infantry hiding behind him. His head sprayed blood and brains and his body pitched back hard and hung there limply long before the sound of my shot reached them.
Two more rounds for the trailing infantry, and it was time to move again.
The heat was getting harder for me to take. I realized that one way or another I had to put an end to this that night or I'd never survive. Besides, if the local commander wasn't a total fool, there were reinforcements on their way while I was busy playing cat and mouse.
Two more hours spent creeping and crawling. Two more hours hoping the assholes in the tin can didn't get lucky with their random shots and turn me into marinara sauce.
We kept up this game all day. I couldn't hurt the APC, I didn't have DU or sabot rounds for this weapon, and I wasn't planning on getting close enough to try the Glock's 10mm AP rounds.
By six that evening, the M-3 had lost all his infantry support and I'd gone back to shooting into their camp whenever a body popped out long enough for me to link. I began making my way slowly towards their camps entrance, moving slowly and cautiously. I had a lot of ground to cover, but I had time. I wanted to arrive well after dark. I'd been boiling all day long and I was running low on water. It had to end tonight.
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