by Z D Dean
STOWAWAY
REDLEG IN SPACE BOOK 1
Z.D. DEAN
Contents
Preface
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
End of Book 1
Preface
Zade joined the army looking for excitement and danger, but since his graduation from West Point it had been nothing but bureaucracy, boredom and repeated disappointment. Zade graduated hoping to become an infantry officer but, ironically he couldn’t keep his grades high enough and thus he didn’t have the class rank to get infantry. His second choice was armor, but again too low of a class rank and the branch closed before he got his choice. Zade got his third choice, field artillery, which didn’t turn out to be as bad as he had thought.
After graduation he was sent to Ft. Sill Oklahoma where he was trained on the finer points of calling in indirect fires from over fifteen kilometers away. The instructors at the schoolhouse recognized Zade had a unique capacity for strategic planning and implementation so, in his file, suggested that he be put in charge of a fire support team, FiST. Just before graduation at Sill Zade pulled orders to go to Ft. Bliss Texas where he would be in charge of a company level FiST for an armor battalion. Still a bright-eyed, cherry second lieutenant Zade couldn’t be more excited. Plus, the rumor going around the schoolhouse was that Zade’s future battalion was already deployed to Iraq, so Zade was sure his time had finally come, he was going to get his excitement as soon as he got to Texas.
Upon arrival at Ft. Bliss, Zade was immediately in-processed and given his equipment. Within thirty-six hours Zade was on a flight to Iraq where he would meet up with his first unit. To this day Zade doesn’t even remember the flight or layovers on his way to theater, the anticipation almost drove him crazy, and the worry about not making an ass of himself in front of his men did the same. Iraq wasn’t what he had expected, as the final unit in the country, the operational tempo had dramatically slowed from where it was in the news stories Zade watched growing up. There was no need for a field artillery officer in country, as any form of indirect fires had to be approved by the president, so Zade’s company commander assigned him as a fill in infantry platoon leader.
Zade spent the deployment running patrols that the commander felt were too risky for his actual infantry platoon leaders. CPT Schmit was a stocky ranger, that was well past his prime, but he loved being a ranger and reminded Zade daily that “he ain’t shit, cause he ain’t got a tab.” Rangers stick together, and because the current infantry platoon leaders were slotted to go to ranger school upon their return stateside, Schmit assigned Zade to any mission that had any risk. Schmit couldn’t risk not being able to send his fellow infantrymen to ranger school because they had gotten hurt on some mission in Iraq. Zade however, was just a field artillery officer, with no intention of getting his tab so he was expendable.
A few months after returning from Iraq Zade pulled orders to deploy to Afghanistan as part of an advise and assist team. Not the ideal mission for an officer trained to call in artillery, but the orders required that Zade be able to call in air support. Zade was sent back up to Sill just prior to deployment to learn the fine art of controlling air strikes. This schoolhouse time also meant that Zade didn’t have to participate in any of the spin up activities such as cultural awareness classes, or connex load planning, win win in his mind.
Afghanistan was more action packed than Iraq, but didn’t seem as exciting. Maybe the new had finally worn off and the deployment thing had become old hat to Zade. Either way Zade was again subjected to leadership that was somewhere between viper venom toxic, and jellyfish toxic. Zade’s team leader was the battalion commander from the logistics battalion, and he had an ax to grind with every combat arms officer he ran across. The story goes that, lieutenant colonial Goddman started his career in peace time army where he constantly got bullied by the combat arms officers he worked with. Now this giant of a man was going to get his vengeance on any combat arms officer unlucky enough to be under his command.
Zade spent the better part of the deployment rolling with the local infantry units, both American and Afghan, providing air support functions. As the only Joint Fires Observer in the Paktia province Zade stayed busy. Across the nine-month deployment there were only a handful of days that Zade didn’t leave the wire, exactly how he liked it. When award time came around at the end of the deployment all Zade wanted was his combat action badge. It had been denied by Schmit because in his opinion any officer who wasn’t infantry didn’t deserve to be recognized for being in combat. Zade wasn’t an award seeker, but he did want his CAB, it would be a symbol that he had been tested in combat, and Zade hoped that it would add validity to his leadership. Goddman however, had different plans. Even though Zade had been on over 250 missions many of which ended in enemy contact and air support, Goddman refused to submit a CAB for Zade because, “I, a lieutenant colonial, don’t even have one. What makes you think I’m going to give an artillery lieutenant one?” Another slap in the face by the big green weenie. To add insult to injury, LTC Goodman refused to award Zade with a bronze star, while awarding everyone else with leadership positions in his battalion, deployed or in the rear, with the bronze star with V. The bronze star is really just a participation metal for any officer who had been deployed, so having one doesn’t really mean anything, but not having one after a deployment was a black mark on an officer’s record. The “V” denotes that the award was given due to valorous action usually in combat. Somehow, no one ever questioned why every squad leader in the support battalion, deployed or not, had been awarded a valor medal.
After getting back to the states after Afghanistan, Zade realized that bureaucracy and petty bullshit were never going away, but they were a little more tolerable if you were deployed. Zade than petitioned every senior officer he knew for another deployment. Initial resistance was based on the fact that, to some, three deployments in four years was unhealthy. Zade didn’t have any family other than his parents, he enjoyed being a warrior, and deployment money was really good, he had to be deployed again. Finally, after months of petitioning, and some mental health evaluations Zade pulled orders for his third and probably final deployment. He was going back to Paktia province Afghanistan.
LT. Zade had just gotten back from his last mission in Afghanistan. A simple presence patrol through the northern part of Paktia province, uneventful and quick, just like he was hoping for. After a quick debrief and shower Zade had headed back to his combat housing unit, affectionately known, by the guys, as a CHU. Tomorrow would be the last day of the United States’ field presence in Afghanistan, and Zade’s unit was going to be the one to close the gates. Zade returned to his CHU and finished packing up his gear for the movement out, which would happen just before daybreak the next morning.
As the last unit left in the field, Demon team would catch a Blackhawk flight to Bogram Air Field where they would hitch a ride via C130 to Manas processing station. Although Demon was the last field unit in Afghanistan, the US would be keeping BAF open. Something to do with the size and amount of funding that went into the base. Zade didn’t really care about the geopolitical circumstances surrounding the exit, this was going to be his third and final deployment to combat, and it wasn’t really the grand finale that he had been hoping for. Either way, Zade laid down to grab some sleep before the move.
Chapter 1
*BAM *BAM *BA
M
Pounding on the door of his CHU, woke Zade up from a short but pleasant dream about wasting all of his deployment money on new cars and at the local strip club.
“LT Zade, are you in there? The commander wants to see us at the Ops Center, says he has a mission for us.”
“What the fuck? Go away Sgt Fern, I just got back from mission and I want at least four hours of sleep before we SP tomorrow.”
“Sir, you know how the commander is, we have to get down there.”
“I don’t care; tell him I went AWOL. That I decided to join the Afghan army, hell I’ve spent enough time here to become a citizen.”
Fern was one of Zade’s NCO’s and possibly the best fire support NCO Zade had ever had the pleasure of working with. This was his eleventh deployment, and he was already working to get another one after they returned. The had met when Zade started doing the spin up for this deployment, and immediately hit it off. Fern was a true professional warrior, competent, driven and he had the warrior spirit. Like Zade, Fern loved the excitement of being in combat and took every chance he got to deploy. Fern, a first-generation Mexican swore that he only has Inca warrior blood running through his veins. Zade loved the sentiment and could never bring himself to tell Fern that the Inca had never been in Mexico. What was the point of ruining the guy’s identity?
As Zade sat up he popped open the door to his CHU. Fern was standing just outside in full kit with a fresh camel cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Fern tossed Zade a pack of smokes and two RipIts, the energy drink of choice for the modern warfighter. Fern always seemed to know exactly what could motivate soldiers, even disgruntled lieutenants.
“Thanks. Did you get any more information from the commander on this one? If it’s about anything less than the first lady being raped by the Taliban, I may lose my mind.”
Before even fully waking up Zade cracked open one of the RipIts and slammed it in one slug. After tossing the can out the door, Zade threw a smoke in and began rummaging around in his uniform pockets for a lighter. After no luck, Fern tossed a lighter to him and began discussing the known facts about the mission. As Zade dressed Fern explained that the commander was informed about some suspicious activity on the ridgeline just north of the FOB. Fern expressed worry about the way the commander had been talking. After fifteen months working with Major McElry both men knew the man’s idiosyncrasies. The Major regularly spoke in the third person using his call sign when he was in glory hunter mode. The Major also began to use individuals first names when he was about to ask them to undertake an inordinate amount of unnecessary risk. For this particular mission, Demon 6 sent the message that Demon 6 wants to see Alex and Jose in the talk.
Doesn’t this guy understand that awards have already been submitted? Zade thought to himself.
After one final weapon and radio functions check Zade and Fern began the 400m trek to the company TOC, finishing the Ripit and a couple more smokes. The FOB had the uneasy stillness of a place that had been forgotten to time. Zade remembered closing up Iraq. For two weeks prior to leaving the country the FOB was deserted. Zade’s unit was the last group of Americans in Iraq. The FOB looked like a scene from the rapture. People got their instructions to leave and just stopped what they were doing to pack and catch a flight out of country. Trucks were left on the sides of the road door open and keys in the ignition. Unfinished meal trays were left sitting on tables in the dining facility. For two days after everyone had left a strange whining noise was coming from the living area next to Zade’s. When he could stand it no more Zade took one of his guys to investigate. Upon their arrival at the other living area Zade realized that it must have been where the contractors lived. After investigating for about twenty minutes Zade found the source of the noise, a table saw that had been left running after its operator got orders to leave.
As if the uneasy stillness in the FOB wasn’t unnerving enough. What was happening outside the FOB was the polar opposite. The locals knew that the Americans were leaving were getting ready to cannibalize the FOB, our home for the last year. Looking at the feed from the aerial troops could see hundreds of flatbed jingle trucks lined up waiting to start dismantling everything. So far, for this closing neither Zade or Fern had been given information on what was happening outside their home, but both could guess, based on experience, that there would be an army of locals with vehicles waiting for them when they left the wire for this last mission.
Just as the men rounded the corner of the TOC a private ran square into the front of Zade, causing him to spill what was left of his drink on himself.
“What the hell is the rush? Watch where you’re going” Zade chided the private
“Sorry sir, I was just headed out to find you”
What is the rush on this one? It has only been ten minutes since Fern woke me.
The men ascended the stairs to the TOC and upon entering were greeted by an obviously flustered Major. Courtesies were rendered, and as Zade waited for the ass chewing/ briefing to begin he noticed that the TOC had been completely torn down and stored for the move later today. None of the graphics and support documents regular to mission briefs were present, there wasn’t even any staff present, just the Major. An uneasy sense of focus washed over Zade. Any mission this late in the game was bound to run across difficulties. In Iraq, when Zade’s unit was making their last movement out of the country they were continuously harassed by indirect fire and hasty ambushes. The enemy forces felt that if they could videotape their fires driving the Americans out of the country, it would be a huge propaganda win.
“Demon 6 has seen strange lights on the ridgeline around the FOB. Demon 6 thinks that the enemy might be setting up mortar positions to stop our movement later. Demon 6 doesn’t like when people are on his mountains around his FOB” Demon 6 announced
Jesus he’s in third person glory mode Zade thought.
The major then proceeded to show Zade and Fern the video feed from the aerial. Sure enough, there was something going on about two kilometers north of the FOB, but it didn’t look like the standard mortar setup. The enemy has never given away his position by lighting up where he was working. After voicing his concerns which were immediately shot down as excuses not to do his job, Zade was given the actual mission objective by the major.
“Demon 6 wants Alex and Jose to take the security platoon up to that spot and deal with the problem. I expect you to be rolling in thirty. Dismissed”
And now with the first names, what the hell is going on here? Zade pondered
With this the major abruptly walked out slamming the door and leaving Alex Zade and Jose Fern to work through the details of how best to complete this mission. Prep wouldn’t be too much of a problem the platoon had been working together for months and was running like a Swiss watch. What bothered the men was the utter lack of information on the mission and the ridiculous risk and timing issues. With that the men decided to meet by the trucks in fifteen minutes. Fern left to rally the men while Zade stayed behind to try and raise FOB Solerno on his radio. FOB Solerno was the base with the helicopter’s that were going to airlift the unit out in a couple of hours and Zade hoped that they were smart enough to leave some Apache gunships to support the movement. Zade’s radio lacked the range required to reach Solerno without the TOC’s stationary antenna, and after thirteen minutes of trying, with no luck, Zade headed to the motor pool to link up with his men.
Zade entered the motor pool just as the fifteen-minute mark had elapsed. Fern did a good job getting the men ready to roll, and everyone was in their trucks doing final checks. Fern had just finished his walk through and was headed back to his truck at the rear of the column. Zade headed to the passenger side of his truck, truck two, and pulled out a smoke. Waiting for the final checks to be completed, Zade stood there pulling on his smoke trying to pin down what was making him uneasy about this mission.
“Sir, all trucks have reported in, everyone is REDCON 1,” Zade’s driver informed him.
Taking o
ne last drag and stomping out his smoke Zade replied, “All right men let’s do this, let’s be the last hero’s in Afghanistan.”
After settling into his seat, as the trucks began to maneuver out of the extremely tight motor pool, Zade grabbed his radio to send his report to the TOC.
“Demon TOC this is Demon 36, over”
“Demon 36 this is Demon 6 you will be reporting to me directly for this one.”
“Demon 6 roger, SP time now, three zero pax, nine vic, over.”
“Demon 36 roger, be advised this is time sensitive, you must be back before the exfil movement, don’t make me change my timeline. Demon 6 out.”
What a jackass. Why do I keep putting myself through this shit? Maybe after this one I’ll become a private contractor. Sure, they still have idiots like him, but the pay is good enough to make it worth it.
The movement out of the FOB was uneventful, as expected, since Zade and his men were the last souls to occupy the base. As the trucks slowly creeped through the main gate, Zade was surprised to find that the local trucks had not yet started lining up to destroy the FOB after the American forces departed. Standard procedures required that Zade make periodic situation reports to the TOC. Since Zade wasn’t reporting to the TOC and since 6 was being such an ass, Zade decided to maintain radio silence until he had something to report. After leaving the gate and getting one final check from his other vehicles Zade began the movement to the objective.
Driving through the third world at night is an interesting experience. Especially, when the individuals of the third world are bent on killing you. The first time you do a night movement, it’s terrifying. The added adrenaline and hyper alert mentality make everything look like a potential threat. On one of Zade’s first night missions in Iraq, one of the gunners was a new kid right out of basic training. During a short halt when everyone had gotten out of the trucks to take a leak, the kid started lighting up a patch of desert with the .50 cal he was on. After regaining control of the situation and calming the gunner down, Zade found out that the gunner had seen three men with RPG’s moving toward the trucks, so he engaged. None of the other gunners or drivers could see anything at the spot so Zade took his dismounts to check it out. All they found when they got there were pieces of dog and a long shadow that was being cast by some village lights. In his paranoia the gunner had mistook a stray dog for three enemy soldiers. Although, if that dog had been carrying an RPG he was definitely no longer a threat.
