The Arizona State Guard Trilogy

by Jeffrey M. Fortney

  Major Roman went to one knee, turning as he did. His M-4 CQBR came up and he fired as the muzzle came to bear on the two Taliban. Both danced as the slugs ripped into them then they collapsed. Three Americans ran over to Harrows and Malone. One picked up the non-commissioned officer and began to carry him away. The other two quickly checked Harrows...but it was too late. The young officer was dead. One soldier picked up Harrows' shattered corpse and moved along the trail. "We don't leave our dead to be desecrated by these barbarians!" Barrett's order rang in Roman's mind.

  Roman rose and shifted Templeton on his shoulders. As Roman began to fall back again, he shifted radio freqs. "Mayday, mayday, mayday! Legion falling back under heavy attack. Multiple wounded. Requesting med-evac and close air-ground support ASAP! Med-evac to primary extraction point. Legion will mark hostiles with green flares!"

  He switched back to the tactical frequency, "Legion, fall back to primary evac! Fall back!" Roman took two more steps and an improvised explosive device exploded about 15 feet to his right. The blast lifted Roman and Templeton into the air and threw them into the rocks nearby. Roman shook his head and wished he hadn't. He fought to remain conscious...to remain in command of the situation.

  Seconds later, SGT Lopez knelt down next to Roman. "Stay down, Major! Carlson is checking on Templeton. Let me check you over!" Lopez quickly checked Roman for any obvious bleeding wounds. Finding none, he tapped Roman on the shoulder and directed him by hand signals to look him in the eyes. Roman brought his hands to his ears and pointed then shook his head. "Ears are ringing something fierce! Eyes blurry and sick to my stomach!"

  Lopez nodded so that Roman see his acknowledgment. Lopez pulled out a digital tablet and typed out a quick message, You may have a concussion. Sit tight!

  A familiar droning sound reached Lopez's ears. He typed another message on his pad, Dustoffs inbound, sir!

  Roman keyed his mike, "Legion, launch green flares on enemy positions...NOW!" Green flares flew out of the darkness to land amongst the enemy. A split second later, tracer fire and rockets streaked from black helicopters to tear apart the Taliban fighters.

  Roman keyed his mike again, "Legion, we are bugging out...repeat, we're bugging out! Move, move, move!" SGT Lopez helped his commander to his feet then let another soldier step over to Roman's side to help him walk. The American and Afghan troops moved quickly along the rough trail toward a large clearing between two ridges. Two Black Hawk helicopters sat in the clearing, their rotors turning. Both were clearly marked with red crosses on white backgrounds identifying them as non-hostile medevac or dustoff aircraft. Other Black Hawks were circling the area to land and pick up the remaining personnel once the injured were away.

  While the bulk of the American/Afghan strike team secured the perimeter, Lopez and the other medics moved their patients near the dustoff choppers. The combat medics from the choppers had set up stretchers and were helping the wounded into the aircraft. Major Roman was led to the triage area and sat down upon the ground. His vision seemed to be improving but his ears were still ringing loud enough to drown out the helos.

  Roman looked up as a medic came to check on him. It took him a moment to recognize Lieutenant Teresa Cortez, the unit's first female combat medic. Roman and Cortez had met back at base and learned that they both were born and raised in Arizona. Afterward, they met often to share cups of coffee at the mess hall. Both felt a special bond growing between them.

  "Hey, Teresa," Roman said weakly. "Guess I zigged insteada zagged."

  "Hush," Cortez yelled in response. "Lopez says you may have a concussion. Give us a moment to get everyone prepped then we'll load up and get gone!" She looked at the other wounded and medics. Three stretchers held bodies covered by dark sheets. Damn, she thought, another team slammed! As she turned toward the second chopper, she saw one of the Aghan Special Forces troops slide a grenade from a pouch, pull the pin, and prepare to lob it toward the second chopper.

  LT Teresa Cortez reached down to pick up Major Roman's M-4 CQBR lying on the ground by his side. She brought the muzzle up, slipping the safety off at the same time. As the muzzle pointed toward the man with the grenade, she pulled the trigger. The Afghan danced as he was riddled with bullets. The grenade dropped from his hand, rolled in front of him, then detonated.

  Seeing Cortez fire upon one of the Aghan troopers, Roman turned his gaze toward three other Aghan SF troops standing near another helo. They, too, were preparing to attack the American troops! Roman drew his 9mm Beretta from the holster on his waist, flicked its safety off, and fired at the three Aghans. The other American troops were now aware of what their one-time allies were trying to do and turned their weapons upon them. In a matter of seconds, all but two of the Aghan SF troops were dead and those two were badly injured. American troops took their weapons from them, searched them quickly, strapped them firmly to stretchers, and zip tied their hands and feet, just to be safe.

  With the "green on blue" attack over, the medics quickly loaded the wounded on the dustoff helicopters, climbed aboard themselves, and gave the okay to take off. No sooner had the dustoff choppers cleared the field than two more Black Hawks landed to pick up the other surviving American troops. Minutes later, Major Marcus Roman's Special Forces Team was airborne and en route to their base.

  The medics in both medevac choppers continued to work on their patients. As LT Cortez checked on Roman, he took her hand and said, "Good shooting, Teresa! The boys and I certainly owe you!" Then Roman drifted into unconsciousness still holding onto Teresa Cortez's hand.

  **********

  Back at base, the dustoff choppers landed on the heli-pads near the Combat Surgical Hospital. Teams of personnel raced out to carry the wounded into the triage area. The two Afghan traitors were last to be moved and armed military police were with them every step of the way. Major Roman and SFC Templeton were wheeled into the surgical theatre together. Roman woke up momentarily and looked at his wounded friend. Templeton's skin was a dusky gray, a far cry from his usual dark skin tone. Roman wanted to call out to Temp but lapsed into unconsciousness.

  For the next several hours, the doctors, nurses, and combat medics of the CSH worked on the wounded, battling to save the lives of those near death and stabilizing those with lesser injuries. As the inventory of injuries grew, the chief medical officer contacted the base commander to initiate a medevac request to evacuate the more seriously wounded to the Landstuhl RMC in Germany. Fortunately, a C-17 was inbound to Bagram Airfield within 24-hours and could be diverted to Germany shortly thereafter.

  Major Marcus Aurelius Roman woke up in a recovery ward 15 hours later. He looked around at the other recovering patients and found Templeton, still asleep or unconscious, but certainly looking better than he had hours before. LT Cortez noticed that Roman was awake and made her way over to him.

  "How are you feeling, Marcus?" she asked, checking his pulse.

  "Headaches, eyes still fuzzy...ears not ringing as much," Roman replied. "How...how many of my team...?"

  LT Cortez eyes dropped then she replied, "Four dead...Harrows, Gregg, Clifton,...and Malone died on the table. There was nothing the doctors could do. You have five wounded to include yourself. Russell is critical. Templeton is in pretty bad shape. His right shoulder and hand are a mess and you, sir, took a nasty shock from the blast wave. You've got a nasty concussion. Oh, and don't tell His Majesty, Doctor-Lieutenant Colonel Hawkins that I told you that. I'm already in hot water for violating my non-combatant status by shooting at those traitorous Afghan bastards."

  It took a moment for Roman to remember their Afghan allies had turned on them and that Teresa and he had opened fire first. "Did any of those bastards survive?" he asked.

  Teresa nodded, "Yeah, two of 'em. One was wounded pretty badly. He's under sedation and restraint. The other we patched up and he's being interrogated right now."

  At that moment, the door to the recovery ward opened and General Barrett and Roman's immediate supervisor, Colonel Kenneth Hals
ted, entered with an Afghan general, his aide, and an American medical colonel. The doctor introduced himself and took a few minutes to check on Roman before moving on to the other patients. Roman noticed the doctor refused to look at Teresa with anything other than anger or frustration.

  General Barrett and Colonel Halsted stepped forward. After greeting Major Roman, they introduced General Achmed Hataki of the Afghan Military Command.

  The general stepped forward to shake Roman's hand and speak to him.

  "Major Roman, please accept my apology for this tragic attack upon you and your brave soldiers," the general said with little or no sincerity in his voice. "We will, of course, investigate how this occurred and take action to ensure we remove any rogue elements from our military." The looks on the Afghan general's and his aide's faces said otherwise.

  Roman whispered something very softly and the Afghan general had to lean in closer to hear him better. What the general didn't notice was Roman's left hand close on the nearest object...a metal bedpan. As the general drew closer, Roman's left arm swung around and the bedpan clanged off the side of the general's head, dropping him to the floor. Before he could start to rise, Teresa Cortez drove her booted, right foot into the general's groin...the steel toe of her boot wreaking havoc on his manhood.

  "Apology refused," said Roman in disgust.

  General Hataki's aide stepped forward to avenge his fallen leader. He took three steps before another bedpan, this one swung by LT Cortez, dropped him in his tracks.

  "Everyone stand down, NOW!" Barrett yelled as he pulled his 9mm from its holster and American and Afghan personnel swarmed into the room. He turned to two MPs and said, "Petersen, Barker get the general and his people out of here! Ken, make sure they leave the compound!" The bodyguards had already drawn their sidearms and had the Afghans covered. The Afghan soldiers helped their general to his feet and guided him from the room. Halsted followed the security detail out.

  "I shoulda killed the sonuvabitch," Roman growled. "Lord knows his worthless 'special forces' troops tried to do it to us. Hell, they got some of us and most of the last team."

  Barrett set his helmet down on a side table and turned to face Roman. "That's enough, Major! Throttle down! I'm mad as hell, too, and now I've got to go 'apologize' to the general and his piece-of-shit aide. Hell, those assholes from State will be hounding me to throw the book at you two any second now." Roman and Cortez started to speak and Barrett silenced them both with a single glare.

  "Considered your asses chewed!" said Barrett. "We now know who pulled off the previous ambush! At great cost...then and now! And it's opened up a bigger can of worms. Now we've got to get you outta here...ASAP. The bad news is there're already some complaints flying around about you shooting the Afghan before he threw the grenade, Lieutenant. I know...I know...you had to stop him. Try to explain that to folks like the general there. The good news is the medevac C-17 is on schedule and we will be rolling you and the others out of here in a couple of hours. We're gonna fake out the general and his flunkies. We send a decoy medevac by ground with up-armored support. If they try to attack, we'll take 'em out. You, Cortez, and the other wounded will be put on copters and airlifted to Bagram."

  Barrett sighed and looked at Marcus. He'd known the major all of his young life. Barrett had served with Marcus' father in then-Captain Titus Augustus Roman's unit back when both men were much younger. Barrett and his wife, Bea, were even Marcus Roman's godparents!

  Barrett signaled his aide to step over. "Phillips, go with LT Cortez to her billet and help her pack...essentials only then bring her back here. Marc, I've got personnel packing up the team's billets. Your personal belongings will be shipped by helicopter to Bagram then to Germany...God willing!"

  LT COL Hawkins walked up to General Barrett. "These men should be ready to travel shortly. My personnel will be in here momentarily to prep them for departure. I want to thank you for taking LT Cortez. Her actions may have saved lives but it will wreak havoc with us later as non-combatants on the battlefield."

  Barrett leaned in until he was nose-to-nose with Hawkins. "Doctor, she saved these men's lives. It is the enemy that threatens the status of non-combatants on the battlefield. They are just as willing to kill your medics as our fightin' soldiers. They are barbarians who kill indiscriminately. They would just as likely kill you than not. Tattoo that on your little, piss-ant brain and remember it, Doctor!"

  Rattled by the venom in Barrett's eyes and voice, Hawkins backed away. "Uh, yes...um, well...let me get my people working on getting these soldiers ready to move." Hawkins turned and beat a hasty retreat from the room.

  Colonel Halsted returned to the room and spoke first to the General then to Roman. "Sir, we've got the Afghans out of the way for the moment. Marcus, we're gonna get you and your team ready for evac. I'll ride out to Bagram with you and see you on your way. After that I'll stay in touch with you...okay, son?"

  "Thanks, colonel!" Marc Roman replied. "Sorry to cause a stink...particularly as you're getting ready to retire."

  Halsted smiled then placed a hand on Roman's shoulder, "Marcus, you've been a friend and a valuable member of my team for some time. Don't worry about me catching some flak over this. Get some rest while you can. I'll see you soon." He patted Roman's shoulder again, smiled, and left the room to coordinate the evacuation of the injured to Bagram Airfield.

  Marcus sat up slowly, instantly regretting it, but remained upright. He turned slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "General, I apologize for my actions. And...well, sir...as soon as I get Stateside, I'm done. Consider this my resignation."

  Barrett spoke softly, "Aw...come on, Marcus. You've suffered a head injury, your men were seriously injured or killed by our 'supposed' allies...I'm willing to cut you some slack."

  Marcus shook his head. Gotta stop doing this or I'm gonna hurl, he thought. When the world steadied once more, he said, "Sir, I've seen enough, I've done enough. No disrespect to you, the Colonel, or Dad, but this isn't what any of us signed up for. Little or no support from our own government. Rules of engagement that favor the enemy and endanger us. And now they plan to pull us out, opening the floodgates for the Islamists to step up their attacks on all of us and then take over again once we're gone. Shit, General, every last one of us should get on the planes and just go home! Of course, back home doesn't sound like much of a picnic, either."

  Barrett nodded then gripped Roman's shoulder. "I understand, son. We'll talk about it again later. For now, take some time to think things over before you do something you may regret. I'll check back with you later." With that, General Barrett left the ward.

  Marcus looked around the ward at his teammates. Templeton had awakened and smiled wanly at his commanding officer. "Damn, major...what happened?!?"

  Roman smiled at his top NCO. "Well, you got in the way of some bullets and I had to carry your tired, old ass. Then someone tried to blow us up. But we're too damned mean to die...so here we are!"

  "Did I hear the colonel say we're being evacced soon?" Templeton asked.

  "Yeah," said Roman. "Our supposed allies set us up at the ambush site, then tried to frag us at the dustoff site when their Plan A failed. Teresa Cortez took out the first one, then a bunch of us iced all but a couple of 'em. Their general tried to apologize a bit ago...but I didn't accept."

  SGT Bob Fowler's voice carried across the room. "You missed it, Sergeant First Class! The major clocked that Afghan general upside the head with his bedpan then LT Cortez kicked him in the balls! When the general's aide tried to hit the Major, LT Cortez clocked him with another bedpan! It was classic!" Laughter erupted around the room.

  Several minutes later, LT Cortez returned to the ward and dropped two duffle bags to one side of the room. Roman's troops, at least those awake, clapped, whistled, and cheered her as she entered the room. "Way to go, El Tee!" "You're the best, LT Cortez!" and other complements and thanks were offered.

  Major Roman looked at LT Cortez as she stepped
up to his bed. "Well, Teresa, looks like you're really part of Roman's Legion now!" This brought another round of cheers from the men.

  Then someone asked, "Hey, major, doesn't she need a call sign if she's on the team?" This was followed by more hoots and hollers. Roman looked at Cortez thoughtfully for a moment.

  "Well, any suggestions for our little ballbuster here?" he asked.

  SFC Templeton looked up and answered drily, "I think you got it there...Ballbuster! The El Tee certainly busted the general's balls to hear you tell it."

  "Well, Teresa," said Roman, "what do you say?"

  LT Teresa Cortez smiled at Roman, then each of his teammates before answering. "I really hope I did bust his balls for what his troops tried to do to you guys! Ballbuster it is!" The room erupted again in cheers and whistles.

  LT COL Hawkins chose that moment to reenter the room. "What the hell is going on here? What's all this racket? This IS a hospital!" Roman and his team ignored him completely. Before Hawkins could say another word, he felt a hand drop on his right shoulder. Turning, he saw that COL Halsted had followed him back into the ward. Halsted didn't say a word but merely raised his free hand and curled his index finger in a "follow-me" gesture. Halsted led Hawkins back into the hallway.

  "Doctor, I have no doubt that you're a good physician. You've saved many lives here...but you don't know anything about combat troops," Halsted said calmly. "These men have lost brothers-in-arms and yet they survived. Your LT Cortez is largely responsible for their survival this time and they are recognizing that fact. She put her life and her career on the line for them and they appreciate it. Please tend to getting them out of here and otherwise...let them be! Do I make myself clear, doctor!" Halsted's eyes bored into Hawkins'. The doctor nodded and moved down the hall to finalize the evacuation of the patients. Chastised twice within one hour, Hawkins was beginning to see that he'd stepped on his male member.