Flags of The Forgoten

by Stallcup, Heath

  “Hey, my throat is burning,” Chesterfield whined.

  “This is your people’s fault, shithead. You can suffer.”

  Slippy stood, both fists in the air. “I got it! I’m in their coms!”

  “Impossible!” Darren shouted.

  “Let them know we got shit-britches.” Bridger mixed the paste with his fingers and slathered the goo on to Steve’s exposed hands. “I gotta get back.”

  “Go!” Steve pushed at him and gently pressed the towel to his face.

  Bridger fought the urge to cough as he passed the door leading to the tunnel. He paused and stared at the door. “Tell me al-Abadi wasn’t in that tunnel.”

  Deric shook his head and coughed violently. “I didn’t see him in there.”

  Bridger huffed and trotted back to Gregg. “What are they saying?”

  Gregg dropped the headphones and shook his head. “They don’t care. They said that they lost too many men.”

  Bridger gave him a wide eyed stare. “Not from us!”

  Gregg shrugged. “They don’t care.”

  Both men looked to Chesterfield. “You’re screwed, man.”

  “Let me talk to them! This is supposed to be my op!” Darren nodded toward the headphones. “Please, just…I’ll tell them to stand down.”

  Gregg looked to Bobby who shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

  Gregg slid the headphones onto Chesterfield’s head and adjusted the lip mic. “You’re hot.”

  “This is Agent Chesterfield. Stand down! That’s an order!” He listened to the replies then nodded to Gregg. “I think they got the message.”

  Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX

  * * *

  ALI BIN-HAMZA leaned against a tree, his face covered in dirt, sweat and blood. He sucked in the warm Texas air and glared back at the military style bunkers. “We were this close.”

  “Ali…look!” One of his few remaining soldiers pointed back towards the woods. “Isn’t that him?”

  Ali lifted his spy glasses and stared at the short, pudgy man darting across the clearing and towards a stand of trees. “That is him!” He grabbed the man closest to him. “Get him now!”

  Three of his soldiers bolted across the open ground and Ali realized, he was alone. He stared into the shadows behind him expecting to see that babyfaced coward but there was nobody left.

  He slumped to the ground, his leg throbbing from the bullet wound yet he resisted screaming. Instead, he clenched his jaw and prayed that Allah would bring them good fortune.

  Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX

  * * *

  JAY’S VOICE CRACKLED over the coms. “We got a runner. Muhammed just escaped the middle bunker.”

  Bridger groaned. “Son of a bitch. Why would he rabbit on us? Does he have a fucking death wish?” He went to the door and reached for the handle. He glanced back to Slippy. “Tell me it’s clear.”

  Slippy gave him a thumbs up and Bridger disappeared out the door.

  “That’s al-Abadi, I take it?”

  Gregg set a video camera on the counter in front of Chesterfield. “You don’t worry about who it is. Right now, you have some ‘splaining to do.”

  Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX

  * * *

  JAY PLANTED THE reticle squarely on the chest of the lead haji. He knew that even with the suppressor, the tactical team would hear the shot. What he couldn’t know was whether that would negate their stand down order.

  Movement from the corner of his eye broke his thought process and he glanced to the right to see Bridger running full steam across the front clearing, making a bead on the three men crossing.

  “I can drop them, Bobby. Give me the clearance.”

  “We have a ceasefire. Don’t shoot unless you have to,” Bridger huffed as he sprinted down the gentle slope.

  Jay spun on his axis and found al-Abadi huffing and puffing his way to the trees. As soon as he broke into the woods, Jay scanned back to the men quickly closing the gap. “I may not have a choice.”

  “Then do it!” Bridger made a running leap and vaulted a rock outcropping. He oomphed as his full weight came down on the other side and pumped his legs faster, hoping to close the distance on the little weapons dealer.

  Jay offered up a silent prayer and loosed a round. The lead runner tumbled and fell. Jay watched carefully and sighed when the man didn’t stand again. “One down.”

  Bridger broke into the trees with a crash and Jay loosed a second shot, dropping the second terrorist just meters behind Bridger. “One man standing.”

  Bridger spotted al-Abadi and tackled him, rolling him across the ground as the man screamed and kicked at him. “Stop it!” Bridger drew a fist back, prepared to render him unconscious when al-Abadi recognized him and stared up at the giant man with wide eyes. “Quiet.”

  Jay watched as the third terrorist came into view then he stopped and scanned the woods. He had just applied pressure to the trigger when the man suddenly dropped into the tall grass and disappeared.

  Jay let his breath out as he released the trigger and studied the area where the man had disappeared. “One left, Bobby. He dropped out of view.”

  “Copy that.” Bridger pulled al-Abadi behind a large oak and planted him in the dirt. “Why the fuck did you try to run?”

  Muhammed al-Abadi shook his head. “There was a loud explosion on one side and gas began to pour in from the other. I expected them to enter at any moment.” His voice was a frightened whisper and Bridger pressed his finger to his lips, shushing him.

  His eyes scanned the edge of the trees and every rustle of leaves, snap of a twig or even the wind through the tall grass had his head snapping in that direction.

  “We are about to die, aren’t we?”

  “If you don’t stop talking we are,” Bridger hissed. He swept his eyes back and forth, looking for any movement. He was almost convinced that he was imagining the noises when he heard a grunt to his left. His arm instinctively flew out and pressed al-Abadi to the base of the tree while his right pulled his side arm. He loosed two rounds in the general direction of the noise and heard a yip as one of the rounds found its mark.

  Bridger ducked low and focused on the sounds from that direction. “You hit him, buddy,” Jay’s whispered voice came across his earpiece. Bobby slowly reached up and tugged the bud from his ear. He strained to listen and could just make out the sound of somebody crawling through the underbrush.

  He slowly brought his right arm up and allowed his weapon point toward the source of the sound. He let slip one more round and the gurgling that followed let him know that the third man was no longer a threat.

  He grabbed al-Abadi by the shirt front and lifted him to his feet. “Back to the bunker, goat fucker.” He shoved the smaller man in the general direction of the compound and fell into step behind him. “Target secured.”

  Jay breathed a sigh of relief and stood from behind the outcropping. He crawled over the rock and slid down the face, rifle in hand. “I think that’s the last of them.”

  He fell to the ground face first as the AK round shattered rock beside him.

  35

  Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX

  * * *

  “WHAT THE FUCK is going on over there?”

  Gregg cringed as the voice screeched in his ear. “We’re just cleaning up a few loose ends.” He glanced to Chesterfield, who had suddenly gone pale. “Apparently there are a few hajis out there that wanted to crash this little party.” Slippy slumped in his seat then turned back to Darren. “Where were we? Oh yeah…you were about to tell me how this shit storm came into being.”

  Darren watched him click the record button again and he swallowed hard. “It was your basic black operation. We stir up the locals and sway their opinion to side with us over the illegal weapons smuggling.” He sighed and wished he could wipe the sweat from his eyes. “We had to have a patsy in case things went sideways.”

  “That’s where Bridger came in.”

  D
arren nodded. “He had a federal flag on him—”

  “Explain a flag to our listening audience, please.”

  Darren shrugged. “It’s like a…a flag. It lets other agencies know that this guy is working for us.”

  “You mean his work for the FBI and going undercover in those online patriot group boards.”

  Darren nodded, blowing his breath out slowly. “The flag was removed by somebody above me. They felt that he was too good of a patsy not to use.”

  Gregg leaned in closer. “And who is this person?”

  Darren felt his mouth go dry. “That would be Marine Colonel Martin Nelson. He works within the Agency as a military attaché.”

  Gregg waved him on. “Continue.”

  “So we set up Bridger. We doctor photos and a flight itinerary that shows him going to Pakistan. We doctor up a few more documents that indicate that he had help from other patriot groups…and chemical supply warehouses.”

  “To frame him for the mass killing in Karachi.”

  Darren nodded again. “Yeah.”

  “Except you didn’t expect him to fight back. You didn’t realize that he’s not your average Joe-schmuck veteran.”

  Darren shook his head. “I don’t think anybody could have predicted him.” He looked up at Slippy and his face hardened. “Or you people.”

  Slippy smiled. “Mess with the bull…”

  “And that crazy-assed Russian you work with. Where did you find that guy?”

  “He was Spetsnaz. Eventually worked with the Foreign Intelligence Service. Well, until we found him.”

  Darren narrowed his gaze at the man. “How the hell did you recruit a man like that?”

  Slippy grinned at him. “Promised him all of the vodka he could drink.” He snapped his fingers at the man. “This ain’t about us. It’s about the shit you pulled. Carry on.”

  Darren sighed and shook his head. “Where was I?”

  “Doctored documents.”

  “Oh yeah.” Darren blew his breath out hard. “Apparently you have somebody on the inside. Got you copies of the original documents. We had others drawn up for you to hack and steal but you beat us to the punch.”

  Slippy held a finger up. “Wait one.” He picked up the headphones and slipped them back on. “Go for Mister Slippyfist.”

  “We’re pinned down, Mother. I need a heat signature on the shooter.” Jay sounded out of breath as he spoke.

  “Wait one.” Slippy slid to his other computer and brought up the infra-red cameras. “I have one signature to the southwest. Right at the tree line. At your…eleven o’clock.”

  “Copy that,” Jay replied. “Bridger, I’m going to flush him out.”

  “Jay, NO!” Bridger yelled.

  Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX

  * * *

  ALI BIN-HAMZA crouched on his good leg and leaned heavily against the tree. He scanned the area where he had seen movement with his spyglasses, his rifle at the ready. What I wouldn’t give for a decent set of optics right now.

  He caught a muzzle flash and heard a round rip through the woods deep to his right. He smiled to himself and brought his rifle to bear. He fired three rounds in the vicinity of the muzzle flash.

  He slowly lowered the AK and brought the binoculars to his face again. He looked for blood spray or flailing limbs where he had fired.

  A brief movement to the right of his target pulled his eyes from the area he had fired and he saw the dark silhouette of a man standing beside a large tree. It almost looked like he was pointing something in his general direction.

  Ali bin-Hamza would never climb the ranks of his chosen profession. He would never find glory by detonating a bomb in a crowded market, nor would he ever be one to order others to do so.

  Ali bin-Hamza met his fate in the shadows of a great oak in the heart of Texas when a 7.62MM full metal jacketed round entered his cranium and sprayed bits of whatever had made him human into the red Texas soil behind him.

  His body slumped and collapsed without him ever uttering the words that were forming on his tongue. His rifle clattered to the ground beside him and what was left of his face stared up and into the canopy of the trees.

  Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX

  * * *

  “COPY THAT.” THE new team leader lowered the satellite phone and turned to face what was left of his team. “I just got word from Langley. Nobody leaves that bunker alive.”

  One of the men in the rear stepped forward, “You mean of the terrorists, right? What about Agent Chesterfield?”

  The team leader shook his head. “NOBODY.” He slipped the phone back into the pouch on his belt and sighed. “Colonel Nelson was very clear. Chesterfield is to be considered collateral damage.”

  “Sir, we don’t have enough people to breach a fortified structure like that.” The man spit the dust from his mouth. “We don’t even know the layout.”

  The team leader sighed and glanced to the sky. “We’re expecting air support shortly.” He looked to the rest of his men. “They’re sending a fully armed Reaper.”

  “Holy…” The man swallowed hard then looked to the bunker, judging the distance. “We should probably give that thing room to work.”

  “Agreed.” The team leader motioned for the team to withdraw. “Back towards the border. We’ll clean up whatever is left.”

  Camp Deric, South of Dallas, TX

  * * *

  STEVE SQUINTED AT the picture on Gregg’s computer as Agent Chesterfield recounted each step of the operation.

  “And everybody involved realized that the agency was violating its very charter by operating on American soil?”

  Chesterfield nodded slowly. “Yes, but since it was a joint venture with the NSA, they felt they could slip past the legal scrutiny.”

  Gregg snorted. “Of course they did. When—”

  “Slippy,” Steve interrupted, pointing at the other screen. “Why are the jackboots backing off like that?”

  Gregg held a finger up to cut off Chesterfield. “What are you…hmm.” He glanced to Steve, whose face was bright red. “This can’t be good.”

  The front door slammed open and Jay staggered in with Bridger and al-Abadi in tow. “I think we’re clear of the hajis.”

  “We got another problem.” Gregg turned the screen around. “His team is withdrawing.”

  Darren gave them a hopeful look. “Maybe because I gave them the stand down order?”

  Jay stared at the screen, his eyes narrowing. He turned to Bridger, “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Bobby groaned and glanced out the front window. “Is your drone armed?”

  Chesterfield shrugged. “I don’t think so. It’s just for seeing what…” His eyes widened. “They wouldn’t dare. Not while I’m in here.” He stared at each man. “Would they?”

  Jay squared his shoulders, “Load up! We’re bugging out.”

  Gregg stood up and shook his head. “I’m almost to the good part. We can’t…I have to record this. His story combined with our data and we’re all cleared.”

  Jay chewed at his inner cheek then turned to Deric. “Tell me you have a blast shelter here.”

  Deric shook his head. “Not here.”

  Bridger stepped forward. “I’ll lead them off.” He held up a hand to stop Jay. “It’s my fault you’re all pulled into this crap sandwich. I’ll take a Hummer and lead them away. You guys slip into the woods before they send in close air support.”

  Roger stepped in through the front door and patted Bridger’s shoulder. “I’ll take the other Hummer. He wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t talked you into going undercover.” He shot Bridger a wink.

  Jay shook his head. “I don’t like this.”

  “If we make a big enough noise leaving, there’s the slight chance that his team will follow. If we can get them to leave without doing a room to room check…”

  “That’s a lot of ifs, buddy,” Steve stated flatly.

  “It’s all we have right now.” Br
idger stepped back toward the door. “Get his story. Do whatever you gotta do with it.” He pulled the door open and Roger stepped out. “Clear our names.”

  The Baba Yaga group watched the steel security door shut behind the pair and none knew the proper words to say.

  Langley, VA

  * * *

  COLONEL NELSON STOOD in the operations room and watched the monitor. “I want to know when the drone is close in so—”

  “Colonel!” A man stood and held a phone up. “Eyes on the ground state they’re bugging out. They sped off in two Humvees.”

  “I want a satellite image of that area, NOW!” Colonel Nelson barked.

  The man holding the phone nodded. “Sir, they just left in two different directions. The tactical team needs to know which unit to follow.”

  Colonel Nelson cursed and grabbed the technician in front of him. “Do you have a satellite on the area or not?”

  “Coming in…mo…mentarily, sir!” the man stammered. He punched the commands into the keyboard and a fuzzy image began to come into focus.

  Two vehicles could be seen leaving the compound, trails of dust in their wake. “Tell the tactical team to take the northbound unit. We’ll track the other vehicle via satellite. Let them know that we will need GPS coordinates for the air support!”