Rise of the Liberators (Terrafide Book 1)

by Ryan Hyatt

  “What will you do?” the captain said.

  “Go to school,” Kim said. “I don’t care how I have to pay for it. I’ve got the test scores. I’ll find a way. I always wanted to be a doctor, not a soldier. I always wanted to nurse people to health, not take it from them. Life just got in the way for a while.”

  “Good for you,” the captain said.

  “Really?”

  “Really. Ours is a great country isn’t it, to give you that kind of opportunity?”

  “It sure is,” Kim said. “The best.”

  “Agreed,” the captain said. “Let’s do what we came here to do and get you home as quickly and safely as possible, okay?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Basking in the glow of positive Liberator publicity, American leaders managed to detract attention for a while from a deepening humanitarian crisis the invasion of Iran caused. Within a month however, news reports surfaced regarding the darker aspects of Operation Park Walk, news which the nation’s political and business establishment could no longer ignore.

  In that time, eighteen thousand Marines responsible for securing Iran’s nuclear and oil facilities relocated to tent forts inside urban parks, where they, and the Liberators assigned to protect them, continued to stage assaults against the former regime. Another two thousand troops along with a squad of Liberators assisted a corporate envoy with reconfiguring Iran’s oil supplies and ensured they were sent to the United States instead of China and Russia. To the surprise of some, the regime failed to sabotage America’s ‘petroleum lifeline,’ as it came to be called, and this aspect of Operation Park Walk was carried out smoothly and successfully.

  Meanwhile, Marines placed at urban parks were well-trained and well-disciplined, but their numbers too insignificant to properly administer law and order in the cities they occupied. These men and women first and foremost were soldiers, not peacekeepers, and their primary task was to eradicate the last of the Iranian regime, which soon became an overwhelming objective to achieve.

  With help from the Liberators, Marines appeared to be winning the guerilla war against the ‘insurgents,’ a term they were instructed to use to describe those still loyal to Iran’s former leadership. Even so, the twenty thousand Marines dispersed around the country were too thin a force to properly manage the conflagration of civilization that occurred as the result of the country’s collapsing central government, a fact that affected life for nearly eighty million Iranians.

  In Tehran alone, where four thousand Marines were dispatched, electrical service ceased quickly upon commencement of hostilities. After a month, it had yet to restart. The regime blamed the Americans for sabotaging the grid to make its defense of the city more difficult, and the Americans blamed the regime for sabotaging the grid to do the same of their conquest. Regardless of who or what caused the actual power outage, Iranians in the capital lost the ability to store or cook perishable food or heat or light their homes, and within four weeks the absence of electrical power, a crucial aspect of modern civilization, began to cause massive pestilence, desperation and riotous conditions throughout urban areas of the country.

  More than any other factor or allegiance, it’s believed this lack of a sustainable living was what spurred the major migration from the ancient city of Tehran. By mid-March, a month into the American campaign, some relief groups estimated that Tehran’s population was reduced by as much as half, leaving four million behind with limited food, clean water, medical care and shelter. Meanwhile, the millions of refugees who fled faced those and other challenges in adjoining nations such as Russia, Turkey and Iraq.

  As the Americans and the regime battled for supremacy of the streets, loosely-organized gangs assumed control of them. Looting, burglary, robbery, rape, murder and other crimes were rampant. The greatest victims were those who were the most helpless: the old and infirm, women and children. Starvation and diseases related to malnutrition and improper hygiene became common. In Shiraz and other isolated cities, there were rumors of cannibalism and breakouts of cholera and dysentery. In Tehran, however, survival was less of a biological struggle and more of a physical one, where the strong ruled the weak. Families fought to stay alive and stay together.

  All of these ancillary facts related to the invasion were not unknown to the United States. As tensions in the general population escalated, American troops experienced the fallout directly. The tent forts they erected in urban parks around their super soldiers were a great success. However, the Marines who inhabited them quickly found themselves raiding enemy compounds less and policing their sectors more.

  Huge numbers of Iranians, who wore green sashes and claimed to be part of the pro-democratic movement, swelled the American strongholds, and by mid-March it was no longer fair to describe these as anything but refugee camps. For inside the barbed wire fences relief organizations provided Iranians a hot bowel of soup, the chance to sleep on a cot, take a shower, or get the critical vitamins and vaccines they needed to stave off the diseases circulating throughout their war-torn neighborhoods.

  It was hard for the average Iranian head of household to not pledge his loyalty to the Americans under such circumstances, when they were the only ones able to give a family a taste of the old life the invasion deprived them of. As a result, the Americans’ arrival in their country was seen as a mixed blessing by many.

  Not surprisingly, Iran’s Green Movement became a galvanizing force to most Iranians, either loved or scorned, with few sentiments in between. The miserable pace in which the old government was being replaced caused an unbearable frustration for the general population.

  The Eagle Scouts were grimly aware of the intensifying civilian situation, and for this reason the Liberator reloading facility was transferred from Turkey to a bombed-out Mehrabad air base on the outskirts of Tehran. This shortened the distance Liberators traveled to begin and end combat shifts from a matter of hours to minutes, and it kept them in closer proximity to the battlefield at all times.

  However, it’s questionable how this logistical improvement bettered the situation for the average Marine. Ninety percent of the regime’s heavy weapons – planes, tanks and artillery – were destroyed. Occasionally one surfaced and attempted to engage a Liberator, with pathetic results. With few formidable targets, the Liberators’ use was limited. They often monitored and directed raids, and only once in a while did they have the opportunity to terminate scores of insurgents, when for some reason these groups lacked civilian shields.

  Thus, close-quarters combat with small-arms fire involving American ground troops became the typical form of enemy engagement, and this naturally leveled the battlefield. While small-arms fire virtually had no impact on Liberators, Marines on the ground were susceptible to this kind of attack. They were acutely aware of their own safety during operations against insurgents, always a gun-shot or grenade-toss away from death or dismemberment.

  At the same time, offensive action against the enemy had to be dramatically scaled back because of the need for Marines to provide security in their ever-growing refugee camps. As a result, the enemy by late March successfully regrouped and reorganized in Tehran and other cities. It also became apparent Iran’s military hierarchy and impressive intelligence network, tracing back to the American terrorist attacks, remained somewhat intact.

  Once during a shift rotation the captain flew over a burning building, and he noticed the flames on the rooftop spelled the words, “MAKE NO MISTAKE, SALVATORE: YOU AND YOUR MEN WILL DIE IN IRAN.”

  The captain glanced at the fire again, but the message was gone. It was obviously a hallucination, perhaps due to fatigue, but he got the hint and urged the Eagle Scouts to maintain diligence.

  “No matter what the Pentagon says,” he said, “it’s not mission accomplished until we’re out of here.”

  “Yes, sir!” came a resounding echo from his squad.

  One area of general concern for all American military forces in Iran was the suspicio
us absence of rocket launchers during combat. American intelligence knew the enemy had plenty of these weapons, but they remained stored out of sight, yet to be used in battle.

  Curious how the Pentagon intended to solve problems American forces faced in the field, the captain followed developments in the news closely, since he felt as likely to be informed by the press what the brass intended to do as he did by his own higher-ups. For whatever reason, the Colonel stopped returning calls once the invasion began.

  The captain watched the news twice a day, before and after each shift, in the old Mehrabad air base mess hall, now comprised of a tent, café and a few Telenets. It was clear that rumors related to the difficulties in Iran spread beyond the military establishment. Political and business leaders were bombarded by demands from the public to clarify and rectify the unraveling situation.

  In an unprecedented move, The Red Heart, the world’s most respected relief organization, insisted on speaking before an open panel of the Senate. They wanted to make their case that American leaders were negligent in their war planning and were unfairly leaning on non-governmental organizations to meet the basic needs of Iran’s civilian population during the transition of power.

  Also unexpected, perhaps, was the level of engagement by America’s civilian population on the issue. While the majority of Americans favored the war, they seemed to be split on how it was being managed. Some believed the atrocities being committed were real and wrong for America’s image, as well as its moral hegemony, while others believed the reports were misleading or flat-out false, attributable to an overzealous media. Numerous Red Heart supporters contacted their Senators demanding the truth and wanting the group’s executives to be heard. Many of these Senators, Ray learned, received generous campaign contributions from the oil industry and found themselves in an awkward quandary. They were being asked to justify why the Red Heart, the planet’s most altruistic organization, founded in their nation, was being forced to foot the bill for Iran’s recovery when they authorized the invasion.

  A closed-door meeting of the Senate Armed Services Finance Committee was called. Sipping a soda in the Mehrabad air base mess hall, the captain happened to be tuned in to the news program, and he watched as the Colonel left the meeting early, accosted by reporters at the footsteps of the Capitol. He was asked to respond to allegations that the failure to adequately finance and plan the Iran takeover amounted to criminal negligence on the part of American leaders.

  “Nonsense,” the Colonel said. “The invasion of Iran is an American enterprise, and as such, it is being carried out to the highest standards. The business, political and military establishments of this country will do their best to address any concerns that are practical and worthwhile for the interest of our nation.”

  “What do you think of some frustrated Californians calling on progressive states to secede from the Union because of the failures they are seeing at the federal level to solve America’s most pressing problems of energy policy and world standing?”

  Stepping into a limo, the Colonel said, “While everyone is entitled to their opinion, those so-called West Coast nationalists have only convinced me with their unpatriotic protesting that maybe it is time we send a few Liberators to California to help repatriate it with some law-abiding, pro-federal citizens.”

  The Colonel glanced at the reporters gathered before him, but none but he seemed to appreciate the joke.

  He closed his door, and the limo sped away.

  The next day, leaders of the Red Heart were called before the Senate to testify about Iran. The captain, again in the mess hall, watched the meeting unfold, this time with Mustafa by his side.

  “The invasion of Iran has been the greatest man-made disaster since the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki,” said Monique LeTurneau, president of the Red Heart. “In that ancient nation, anarchy has become the rule of the day, and if lawlessness doesn’t kill off the civilian population, starvation and disease certainly will. The catastrophe underway will reach genocidal proportions if proper action isn’t taken immediately.”

  With so many members of the press present, some Senators used the opportunity to blame the military’s operational shortcomings on the Chinese and Russians.

  “Those two nations are flooding the Iranian countryside with ids, driving down the value of American greenbacks in the region with their new international currency,” said Senator Oscar Torres, head of the Senate Armed Services Finance Committee. “Merchants are receiving huge cash incentives to buy food and supplies from our greatest adversaries. Wouldn’t you agree this is contributing to the difficulties in stabilizing Iran’s economy?”

  LeTurneau refused to be derailed, and she placed the onus for Iranian financial failures squarely on the American leadership. Before she finished her remarks, however, she was interrupted by another Senator who asked how the United States might rectify the situation in Iran.

  “I have no idea,” she said. “I didn’t create this mess. You did. But I believe a good start would be to find a way to properly fund recovery with taxpayer money and quit expecting my donors to pay for your unconscionable war.”

  At the mention of ‘unconscionable,’ members of the Senate panel balked, and the meeting was called to adjournment. Senator Torres, a staunch supporter of the war, made concluding comments.

  “Despite any setbacks our forces are facing at present, we’re still on track to meet the goals of our ten-year plan,” Senator Torres said. “Oil production in Iran is already approaching pre-invasion levels, and Americans are feeling better at the pump, where the lines are shorter and the cost for gas already has dropped three dollars per gallon. Although we wish there was more we could do for the Iranians, our nation does have its own problems, too. However, Ms. Le Tourneau, if what you say is correct, and the number of those in Iran gathered outside our strongholds seeking freedom is getting bigger all the time, I’d say it is a strong sign Iranians will triumph in the struggle to establish democracy in their country. Once they do, maybe then we’ll be in a better position to help.”

  With that said, the Senate panel pledged to double the troop presence in Iran, bringing the total number of soldiers from twenty to forty thousand. In addition, they promised to contribute an additional $5 billion to Iranian recovery as the nation reached stabilization goals.

  LeTourneau called the Senate’s gesture “despicable,” and she stormed from the chamber.

  “She’s right,” the captain said, and he turned to Mustafa. “Five billion dollars is a drop in the bucket. That’s enough money to destroy a country, perhaps, but not enough to rebuild it.”

  “And what the hell will twenty thousand more troops do?” Mustafa said. “That might bring security at the camps to an adequate level, but it’s not going to bring democracy to this country.”

  “They’re acting as if everything in Iran, except for its oil, dropped off the face of the earth when we arrived,” the captain said. “They’ve decided to manage the problem by ignoring it. Unbelievable.”

  “I’m ashamed,” Mustafa said. “I never want to visit a Muslim country again, as a solider, or even as a pilgrim.”

  CHAPTER 7

  “Captain, are you following this?” Huxley said.

  The feet of Mama’s Boy Ten were planted just inside the western perimeter fence of Paradisan Park, the largest camp in Tehran, and the sergeant gazed out from his towering cockpit at the massive number of Iranians gathered beyond the checkpoint, hoping to gain access inside. A quick tally by Daddy’s Girl put the total at fifteen thousand.

  “Affirmative,” the captain said from his Albourz perch several miles away. “Were you expecting that many friendlies today?”

  “Negative, sir,” Huxley said. “Only one hundred greens scheduled to meet our men for tea.”

  “Then why so many?” the captain said, and on his shield there appeared the answer.

  Two Chinook helicopters, marked with a red heart, filled with food and supplies, were bound for the c
amp. Word must have spread.

  “Shit,” Huxley said.

  “Re-direct the choppers,” the captain said. “Tell them to circle around and come in from the east. Maybe it will trick the crowd and prompt it to disperse.”

  “Too late, sir.”

  Both Marines saw one of the Chinooks burst into an orange fireball, destroyed by a surface-to-air missile. Daddy’s Girl pinpointed the launch from a building a half-mile west, and Huxley’s Lib retaliated with a rocket that razed the site to the ground.

  But the damage was already done. The burning wreckage of the Chinook landed on top of the panicked crowd. Screaming with terror, thousands pushed forward, creating a human stampede for the checkpoint. Meanwhile, the undamaged Chinook continued on course and passed overhead to the park.

  Marines at the checkpoint fired shots into the air, with little result. They and Huxley watched as the barbed wire fence collapsed, and men and women were trampled by a wave of crazed, dazed Iranians.

  “WARNING!” Huxley said as Daddy’s Girl translated his words into Persian. “CLEAR THE AREA IMMEDIATELY OR THE UNITED STATES WILL USE FORCE AGAINST YOU!”

  Mama’s Boy Ten fired tear gas canisters into the oncoming mob. Instead of dispersing it, the stampeding citizens became more agitated, running wildly and blindly into each other. Marines whose guns were filled with rubber bullets took positions in trees and fired into the crowd. More people fell, and more were trampled, but the surge of flesh didn’t relent.

  Huxley’s Lib roared ferociously, but even from such a mighty machine, this seemed a feeble and impotent gesture to a war-ravaged crowd. In poured the refugees from Tehran’s streets, swarming the talon-like feet of the Liberator.