by Doug Ball
“That would have been her then, Sergeant Decker. Pleased to meet you. She told me you were in Iraq.”
“Were you there the day they got hit?”
“Yeah. I was the one that hauled her butt out of the fire. All those forms burned right hot, they did.”
“I never got a name. She dang near died of the burns, but she’s home and better now. Thank you, Lieutenant. I think I will enjoy this outing with you.”
“And I, you.”
10:30 AM
Tan, Tank, Abdul and Rachel sat around their own maps speculating on the flight path that might be used to attack the dam. “Will he hit water side or back side, do you think?” Abdul asked, bringing the lunch to the table. “Nothing but the finest for the boys and girls on the front. Take your pick.” He sat the case of MRE’s on the tailgate of the truck and pulled up a soft rock.
“You know, we could go down to the General’s tent and eat a hot meal.” Tan didn’t like any of the choices on the tailgate.
“Ain’t no hot meals there. Where you think I got these?”
The quartet was parked high above the marina on Apache Lake and had a fantastic view of the river and lake for miles in each direction. A stinger crew shared the parking lot with them.
“Back to your question, Abdul,” Rachel said, “The engineer I talked to said that it would be more likely to take out the dam by hitting it from the water side just like the dam busters did in World War Two. It is more likely to break it by adding to the pressure on that side than fighting the pressure from the dry side. Those dam busters dropped their bombs to skip and then dive to hit below the water line.”
Tan looked up from the map, “Then, what are we doing here? Fire this thing up and get us down by the bridge. If we park on the bridge, we should be in the way.”
Rachel said, “We got two stinger crews there, one on each end of the bridge, already. Why would we want to sit in the middle?”
“Maybe I can take it out with my .45,” Tan said. “Not much chance of that if the Stingers miss. If the Stingers hit we could get splattered with shrapnel. Or the hit could cause the drone to change course and take us out with the bridge.”
“Lovely thought,” Tank threw in.
Tan and Abdul took their seats in the bed of the truck as Rachel joined Tank in the cab. “Back to the bridge, Tank. And, go easy on the bumps.”
“Hit the bumps and find the bridge it is,” Tank said.
#
Over the radio in the command tent came, “Tell the General we caught a fish.”
The radio operator didn’t even look at the General. “General wants to know what kind of bait you used.”
“Foil from an MRE cracker wrapper.”
“What kind of fish?”
“Green.”
“Must be sick. Out.”
11 AM
Noon
The deadline
The phone rang in the Governor’s office. The Mayor of Phoenix stopped his pacing and turned to face a woman he argued with all the time due to their different party affiliations and philosophies.
Everyone knew he was a lame duck the day he was first elected after being a do-nothing on the city council. Folks in Phoenix just figured it was better to have someone who would do nothing than one who would follow the lead of the nation’s President and try to change everything without thinking of the consequences. Arizona only liked liberals who left them alone.
The Governor picked up the phone. “Yes.”
“You got the money?”
“No.”
“You are aware that I will do what I promised?”
“Yes.”
“Are you ready for that?”
“Why do you want to do this? This state has not hurt Islam one bit. You crazy, radical Muslims, come in here . . .”
“Shut your mouth, woman. You know nothing. Women are nothing. Arizona is a part of the Great Satan. It is a dog in the home of all the little Satans. Your state is a trap for dogs, American dogs that fight my people all over the world. You have enslaved the native peoples of your nation. I tried to take them to a new level of freedom, but they were thwarted on every hand. You butchered the freedom fighters at Snow Bowl. I was there and saw the whole thing. I will win. My brother died in your jail. I really don’t care if you have the money or not, Phoenix will die. Arizona will suffer. And, in the end the Great Satan will burn in Hell.”
“Look, Adam Usafi, or whatever your name is today, bring it on. We have you surrounded and you will be the laughing stock of Arizona in a few short hours. I do not negotiate with terrorists. Arizona does not negotiate with terrorists. You are a terrorist. You will die, on our streets or in our jail, just like your brother. Our highways are full of people calmly leaving the floodable areas your little dam buster will effect, if it works. We will rebuild if necessary, but not one nickel to terrorists. Good day, Mustaf Azzulla.”
She hung up. Tears rolled down her face. She looked around the room at her staff and leaders of Arizona. “We wait.”
“And pray,” more than one in the room added.
After punching up Tan’s number on her cell, she hit send.
The call went straight to voice mail.
She asked the operator of her office phone to patch her through on the radio net.
“Tan.”
She unloaded on him.
“Don’t worry. We’ll do our best out here. Got a possible over toward Young and troops are on the way checking it out. I’ll keep you posted.”
#
Tan turned toward his people, “You heard, it’s gonna happen. Let’s stay sharp.”
“General, you awake?”
He told the General all he knew.
#
The General had everyone else notified.
#
Tan called the crew watching Tweet.
“Yeah, what’s up.”
“Hit him. Take him down. I want Tweet unable to communicate.”
“Will do, Boss. I was getting awful tired of sitting around looking at a parked truck.” Lenny pounded on the hood to wake up his partner.
“Let’s take this clown,” he yelled, with the handheld radio next to his face.
He was the first one at the truck, yanked open the driver’s door, pulled Tweet to the ground facedown, and had him handcuffed before he was awake enough to squeal.
“You’re under arrest. You have a right to remain silent and all that. Where’s your boss?”
Tweet answered, “Get off me you fat bastard. All I know is my last instructions were to wait here for further orders.”
Bruce opened the back of the truck after seeing that Lenny had everything under control up front. He was surprised there was no lock on the door handles. He stood in awe at the contents.
“Lenny, you gotta come see this and you ain’t gonna like it.”
Lenny walked back to the rear of the truck and looked in as Bruce stepped back, pointing at the interior.
On the inside, front wall of the box was taped a sign on which was painted in sprawling letters, “BANG – you are dead and so is Phoenix. Listen for the explosion.”
“Hell’s bells and cockle shells. Damn it, man, we been suckered.”
14
Lt. Williams and Sergeant Decker turned onto the dirt side road and stopped. “Ain’t no tracks here, Lieutenant.”
“You’re right, Sergeant. Let’s move up the road a ways, this turnoff looks swept to me. Too many parallel lines in this dust.”
He scanned the ruts as they eased forward. “Stop.”
He got out of the Humvee. “Couple a spots here where the broom didn’t hit, tracks show.”
“Well, Sir, we know there’s a vehicle ahead. Now why would someone brush out their tracks?” She looked ahead. “This road’s been broomed as far as I can see, Lieutenant.”
“Shut down the vehicle. Lock it up. We go on foot from here. Maybe we can surprise our man.”
As they started walking, Lt. Williams lifted his portabl
e radio from his belt and called in, reporting all they had found. “That’s it for now.”
“HQ – out.”
After no more than ten seconds, “Lt. Williams. You two be careful out there. The General wants you to know that the deadline has passed and the bad guy will be pulling the trigger any minute, or not. Stay alert.”
“Tell the General, we are alert. Out.”
He tucked the radio back in its holster and walked faster.
“Looks like a rock slide.”
“Yeah, a rock slide with fresh tracks going under the rocks. Either someone is in need of help to get out, or somebody wants privacy. If it’s the second, it could be our man.”
“Got that right, Lieutenant. My sister said you was smart.”
The two of them crawled around the low end of the rocks, one moving while the other covered. Once clear of the rock pile, Williams said, “Let’s split up. From the map, he’s probably just over the crest there. Long road rolls out pointing west which is right where he wants to go. If you hear the drone start up, call me. Let’s hustle. You take the low route and I’ll go high.”
“Gotcha.”
They both trotted toward the crest on their own route. Williams heard some racket like cans being tossed away from over the crest. Looking to the Sergeant, she had her hand to her ear.
They kept going.
It got quiet.
They both moved a bit slower and eased toward the target spot. Decker climbed the north side of the rise as quietly as she had ever done anything in the field. This country reminded her of Afganistan except for more vegetation and no goats. She heard an engine start, sputter, and die. Sounded like a small car engine.
She tried to signal the Lieutenant. He was not in sight.
She clicked her radio. Nothing.
As she climbed, the crest seemed to just roll away from her.
#
“General, Big Ear up top of the cliffs reports sound of engine start and stall from across the lake to the northeast. Says it sounded like a small aircraft.”
“Thank you. That’s where our troops should be right now.”
#
Lenny called Tan and gave him the good news.
Tan’s response was calm and sincere, “Lock him up and throw away the key.”
Lenny laughed, “Hell’s bells and cockle shells, you’re damn right,” and shared the comment with all the men standing around the truck. None of them laughed.
#
The Lieutenant was moving further and further away from Decker as he circled to keep from going straight in. He got himself into a small canyon of boulders and could not find a route out in any direction he wanted to take and had to back track. Finally, he got clear and moved straight toward the suspected target.
Shots rang from the hill top and he hit the dirt. No sign of the shots coming his way. Up and running, he decided to keep going until he could see over the crest.
Another shot.
‘Sounds like a real small gun, 22 maybe,’ he thought as he ran faster until he could just see the top of a box trailer of some kind.
Slowing, he eased up until his line of sight showed a drone, a trailer, a car, but no human. He checked his M4 and the Beretta on his thigh.
‘Now or never, soldier,’ he thought as he stood, giving him a clear view of the whole set up, which now included a man with a pistol in hand hiding behind a rock on the far side of the layout. The man was looking down the far side of the ridge crest, pistol lined up on something. It had to be the Sergeant.
He stood and yelled, “Drop it, sucker.”
The man turned and got off three rounds that sounded almost like one stuttering shot. Williams felt two of the rounds hit the trauma plate across his chest and then the third catch his right shin dead center, folding him to the ground.
Fighting for consciousness, he rolled behind a small boulder and stuck his M4 out between a pair of rocks, squeezing off two three round bursts.
He pulled his radio. Fumbled with it for a moment before he found the right buttons and called Decker. No response.
“HQ here. What’s going on, Lieutenant?”
He responded, “Shots fired. Man challenged. He fired and hit me in the shin. I am down. Busted leg, bone showing. Have no response from Decker. Out.”
“Hang in there. Help is on the way.”
He heard the engine noise again. Sticking his head up far enough to see the site, the drone began to roll. His M4 came up and lined on the drone.
Shots from a heavy caliber automatic weapon scattered dirt and rocks in his face. He squeezed the trigger, holding it down for half a magazine worth of rounds at the drone.
The drone rolled.
He heard shots from the other side of the site. It was an M4 so he knew Decker was still in the fight.
The heavy auto rattled again and the firing from the other side ended just as he began firing at the rolling drone. He watched, changing magazines, as the drone lifted. The M4 slid up higher for a clearer shot as he exposed more of himself. Just as he hit the trigger to take out the drone, the auto in the site fired at him.
A round slammed into his helmet just as his M4 fired. He fell, watching a wheel strut fall from the drone.
‘That won’t stop the drone,’ was his last thought before he blacked out.
#
Usafi tried to start the craft. It sputtered, stumbled, and died. He went through the preflight quickly again, finding what was wrong. As he was going to restart after fixing the problem, the sound of brush rubbing rough cloth came from the downhill side of the clearing. He ran over to see a soldier working hard to get clear of a tangle of brush, Decker wasn’t watching the ridge ahead of her for just a couple of seconds.
Usafi pulled the 22 pistol from his belt and fired three rounds.
Decker caught one between her armor and her right shoulder, the slug tearing through her trapezius muscle and hitting her right shoulder blade. She fainted from shock.
Usafi saw her go limp and fired another round into her. The round hit her helmet, ricocheted into the dirt, and stopped. To Usafi it sounded like he had hit solid meat.
He returned to the trailer as he reloaded the .22, slamming the clip home just in time to see Williams stand to look around, M4 barrel swinging from side to side.
The .22 spit out three rounds as fast a Usafi could pull the trigger. Williams went down.
The terrorist ran to the trailer, pulled his AK from the rack inside the backdoor, and went back to work, watching for other soldiers. He told himself they would never just send two soldiers to get him, there had to be more. Two three round bursts slammed into his trailer and the car.
He emptied the AK at the smoke.
He fired up the drone. The prop picked up speed rapidly as he added throttle from the handheld controls. A quick look, he spotted the M4 barrel coming up between a pair of rocks.
The drone began to roll.
He shoved the throttle all the way into the stop.
A quick adjustment, to compensate for the wind blowing across the runway, to the rudder and the drone was going straight down the two rut road.
The M4 fired a long burst.
He spun and fired the AK until it ran dry and stopped.
The M4 spewed a few harmless rounds and stopped, but the barrel remained in the same location.
Usafi knew the man was out of the picture now.
He turned and stood in fear as he watched the wheel and strut fall off. For moment he panicked until he remembered the eject button for the landing gear. The man pushed the button, inside the drone a cam rotated, pulling a pin. The undercarriage fell away, and Usafi saw the drone flying hot, straight, and normal toward its goal, Roosevelt Dam.
#
Just as the radioman informed the General that Williams was down and Decker was not responding, the General screamed, “Get a squad over there with a chopper. All stations be on the alert for anything flying from the east over the water toward the dam.”
T
he radioman relayed it all as four men, loaded for anything, ran toward a chopper that began spooling.
The General reached for the cigar in his shirt pocket. Someone stuck a lighter in front of him and he lit up.
Everybody watched as the big blades slowly picked up speed and lifted into flight positions. The four men tumbled in and tied themselves down as the chopper lifted, turned, slanted forward, and took off across the lake, kicking up spray and almost capsizing one of the small boats full of a Stinger crew pretending to fish. The chopper pilot did not see the pale blue drone slide past him two thousand feet higher.
15
The drone had lots of gas. Usafi aimed the bomb for the sky, knowing he had a ridge to pass over and any air craft coming for him would come in low. He assumed it would be a chopper and the pilot would go no higher than need be.
As he leveled the drone, the wing mounted camera clearly showed the exhaust trail from the chopper which had already passed. He ran for the canyon where, unknown to him, Williams had gotten delayed on his move toward the launch site. Once in the canyon, Usafi saw the Lieutenant’s foot print right across the lid of his new hiding place. He settled into the spider hole where he plugged in the remote antenna, closed the lid, and settled in to watch the excitement until the bomb went off.
“There will be lots of time to worry about getting out after the dam falls,” he said aloud.
He lifted pleas to Allah that he would live to see the results and ended with, “Inshallah.”
He was constantly changing the rudder setting due to the winds making willy-wahs on the water. The effect of the wind on the water helped him know his altitude above the water, and for that he thanked Allah.
#
“General, the radar on the south hill reports slow flying object headed toward the dam flying a reciprocal course of the chopper. ETA about ten minutes at current speeds. The craft came from the ridge our chopper is aiming for.”
“How did the damn chopper miss it?” the radioman asked.
