Hannibal is at the Gates

by David Kershner

  Before the soldiers realized what was happening, he started firing rounds at the Kevlar protected turret and then threw himself under the HET’s enormous diesel cells. When he landed, he released the dead man switch.

  The explosion from the vest punctured the tanks and ignited the fuel. The secondary detonation from the accelerant rocked the twenty-ton hauler. If it had not been for the enormity of the piece of bridging equipment on the trailer, the entire rig would have been lifted off of the ground. The fireball charred everything within a thirty-foot radius. Men were thrown yards off their feet by the shockwave. The heat from the blast seared the flesh of anyone not behind cover when it erupted. Beneath the mass of twisted metal, only a crater remained. All that was left was the plume of thick black smoke emanating from the burning hulk of steel. The machine was barely recognizable as a piece of military hardware.

  Josh, Juan, and Brent immediately exited from behind their hauler and began pulling screaming bodies away from the inferno.

  “Where’s your med kit!” Josh screamed at one of the survivors as he dragged him from the inferno.

  The platoon leader shot from his Humvee and quickly cleared the end of the trailer. He began assisting the pair. “Check the right leg!” the young Lieutenant offered.

  “Bingo!” Josh decreed. “Juan, the thigh pocket! Help me drag these guys outta here and wrap the burns!”

  Josh stood and grabbed the man by his harness straps. “I got this one! Go get the next one! Radio your medics and tell them to get their asses down here!” he commanded.

  The junior officer did as ordered and issued the command to his squad leader. He then sprinted to the next man in the line. One by one, they were dragged to safety. The remainder of the platoon descended on the scene with expert efficiency and quickly cleared the area. The wounded were immediately triaged and prepped for evac.

  Once the wounded were under control, the Lieutenant started giving commands to get the bridging equipment uploaded.

  Josh headed toward him and said, “That won’t be necessary, LT.”

  Chapter 25

  As the last of the injured soldiers was being placed aboard the medevac chopper to Athens, Josh turned to Juan and asked, “Have you heard from Jesus?”

  “Not yet. I’m starting to get a little worried. I’ve tried reaching him, but he doesn’t respond.”

  The Lieutenant closed the doors to the helo and approached Josh and the rest of the group.

  After the thumping from the ascending bird subsided, the young man recognized someone, turned, and approached. “General Howard, sir. I was under the impression that you were retired.” Then he recalled his brief conversation at Rickenbacker. “By the way, how did you manage to requisition a five-ton deuce loaded with comm equipment and building materials?”

  “I am retired, but that truck isn’t for me. It’s for you,” Brent replied jovially.

  Unaware how this was supposed to be funny, the Lieutenant answered, “How’s that?”

  “When you and your men are done here, before you head back to Bragg, that material is going to be used to set up some observation post’s (OP) in a ring around the state park you guys passed getting in here. We also need a couple here at this site,” the General stated and then concluded. “We’ll get to that later, don’t you worry.”

  The young man nodded. “So who’s in charge of this?”

  “Well, that depends,” he answered. “If you want the man handling the Delta One convoy, that’d be Captain Rayna. He’s on the other side overseeing the offload in that tunnel over there,” and pointed across the ravine. “The one that cooked up this rope-a-dope is this guy,” he concluded and motioned to Josh.

  “You mean the cargo isn’t on these haulers?” the man asked.

  Josh walked over and threw back one of the canvas covers and said, “Nope. The only thing on these trucks is a dozen empty pallets.”

  The Lieutenant reviewed Josh with a puzzled look.

  “Sir, how can that be? This man is a civilian. Why was he put in command of anything?”

  “Well, technically, I am too. Meet Lt. Colonel Joshia Simmons, USMC retired.”

  The junior officer snapped to attention and saluted out of reflex at the mere pronouncement of a superior officer’s rank.

  “First Lieutenant Eustace Stokes, sir!”

  Josh simply held out his hand and chuckled.

  “Pleased to meet you, son.”

  While the two shook hands, a horn blared from across the washed out gorge.

  “That’s your queue, Lieutenant. Did you guys bring the bang like we asked?” Josh asked.

  “And then some. Follow me, sir.”

  The men followed the Officer to the back of a deuce and a half. He easily sprang up into the back of the truck and started rattling off the various gear and equipment they’d brought along.

  “They didn’t tell us what the objective was before we left so we grabbed a little of everything. Let’s see, we have a dozen forty pound cratering charges. That should do the trick on that tunnel of yours. Then we’ve got an equal amount of Bangalore and claymore mines, and the requisite blasting caps, det cord, clackers, and what not for all of that. Umm,” he started to say as he looked further.

  “We have a couple thousand 5.56x45mm NATO rounds for the M-16’s, two mortars and four crates of shells for those, and two crates of hand grenades.” He paused and then said, “Huh.”

  “What?” Josh asked.

  “Oh, one of my Sergeant’s has an affinity for bazooka’s is all. He must have thrown these in here when I wasn’t looking,” the Lieutenant replied. “I prefer the Javelins.”

  Josh was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Perfect, you and your men start humping those cratering charges over there and get to work. Whoever isn’t doing the wiring and rigging is on patrol, understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” the officer said and exited the truck. As he scampered off to find his squad leaders, Josh climbed up and started unloading the dozen charges.

  “Help me with these,” Josh said to Brent and Juan.

  “What are you doing?” the General asked.

  “I’m ‘assisting’ our young Lieutenant friend. What does it look like I’m doing?” Josh answered and asked.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it looks like you’re in an awful big hurry to push that young man on to the other side of that ravine so you can steal his truck.”

  “How very perceptive of you, Herr General. I knew a man once that said, and I quote, ‘You beg, borrow, and steal until your men have what they need to get the job done’. Now, are you gonna stand there and judge or are you helping me by distracting the LT?”

  The old man chuckled at having his motivational speech reiterated back to him and replied enthusiastically, “Well, help of course!”

  Josh and Juan continued to unload the munitions needed to seal the tunnel. The two had to stop and cover their mouths to keep the laughter to a minimum when they heard the General tell the junior officer that it was past his bedtime. They were going to borrow his truck so they could take him back to the farm so he could go to bed.

  Once the truck had been emptied of the explosives, only the other munitions remained aboard. Josh and the rest of his group followed the engineers across the creek to say goodbye to Captain Rayna and collect their other compatriots. As they stood in the tunnel, the assembled men gawked at the vast assembly of gold that was about to be sealed behind a couple thousand tons of rock.

  Dallas reached out and picked one up. “Think they’d notice if one was missing?” he said as he surveyed the faces of the others.

  No one answered.

  He thought long and hard at the possibilities. Then he just shrugged. “Stuff’s probably cursed,” and tossed it back on the stack.

  The engineering sapper approached and broke up their mental scheming and said, “Sir’s, we’re ready to seal the tunnel.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Sergeant,” Hoplite replied.

&nbs
p; The man turned to exit and then stopped.

  “Sir, what do you want us to do with the prisoner?”

  “I thought all of their forces were dead,” Josh answered.

  “No, sir. We found one hiding in the woods. Well, I shouldn’t say we. A civilian just dragged him in... said his name was Jesus.”

  “Any injuries?” Gregg asked.

  “Not a scratch on either of them. We think the captured combatant was only a forward observer. It doesn’t appear that he took part in the assault.”

  I wonder. Nah, it couldn’t be. “Where is he?” Gregg wanted to know. “Maybe he can give us some useful intel.”

  “He’s restrained in the back of that truck over there,” the engineer answered as he gestured toward a number of parked vehicles.

  Juan sprinted toward the truck ever hopeful that Jesus was alive and well. The father spotted his son and veered toward him immediately. The man grabbed his oldest child and hugged him fiercely.

  Josh and the rest of the group made their way to the back of the truck. Gregg latched on to the handle, stepped into the footholds welded onto the dropped tailgate, and easily made his way into the back of the truck in a fluid motion. He was totally unprepared for what he heard next.

  “Mr. Chastain. What an absolute pleasure it is to see you again.”

  “Holy sh—,” Gregg started to say when Josh entered the rig.

  “You know this man?” Josh asked.

  “I don’t believe it,” Gregg responded.

  “Who is this?” he was asked again.

  Gregg cleared his throat and haltingly said, “Lt. Col. Simmons, I’d like you to meet Suhrab Akhtar Esfahani.”

  “No way,” Josh said in utter surprise.

  “Yup. He’s got a beard now and he’s bit disheveled, but I’d recognize those coal black lifeless eyes anywhere.”

  “Ho-ly sh—,” Josh exclaimed.

  Before Josh could get the entire expletive out of his mouth, Gregg hauled off and punched the man right in the face.

  “Sorry, sir,” Gregg said. “Been waitin’ over a year to do that.”

  Josh was actually envious. He never got to confront the men who tortured him and scarred up his body. He was told months later, as he lay in his hospital bed, that the faction who had abducted him in Bosnia all those years ago were killed during the rescue mission.

  “What do you think we should do with him?” Josh asked.

  “For starters, I think we drag his butt back to old man Wrigley’s and turn that place into his own personal friggin’ house of horrors. This guy’s full of intel,” Gregg responded forcefully.

  “And Sheriff Watson? We have to tell him something. There are four dead bodies and an orphaned child. As far as I’m concerned, they represent the first casualties of this war. Plus, jail sucks and I’m not going back for this idiot,” Josh replied with a smile.

  Gregg paused for a few reflective moments and then sighed.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. Grab someone’s phone and give him a call. Have him meet us at the Wrigley’s. We’ll probably need to provide a full briefing, not the partial ones he’s received so far. While you’re doing that, I’ll link-up with Hoplite and have him call up the chain and see what they want us to do.”

  Suhrab guffawed under his breath.

  “What are you laughing at?” Josh asked. “You aren’t headed for a picnic, that I can guarantee you.”

  “You Americans and your morality. If you think about it, and reflect on your Christian teachings, it’s actually the vehicle that has led to this. To your undoing,” the man answered.

  Josh smirked at the comment. “Actually, it was greed and our unabated federal spending that has led to this, but you’ve made me curious. This little adventure of yours, the portable EMP devices, what was the point of that? A terror campaign designed to start a revolution? An Islamic version of the Crusades?”

  “Absolutely!” he responded.

  “My, my, Gregg. You neglected to mention just how militant this guy was,” Josh intoned.

  Gregg just shrugged in reply.

  “Well, Suhrab, I think you should have studied your history a little more closely,” Josh retorted. “Those didn’t end well for Christianity. I imagine you’ll have the same result.”

  “There’s a difference you are not accounting for, I think, Mr. Simmons,” Suhrab responded cooly. “We Muslims have something that you Christians have never had.”

  “Oh? Do tell?”

  “Resolve. That is the thing that most separates us.”

  “So you actually believe that out of the nearly eight billion people on this planet that aren’t Muslim, compared to the two billion that are, they would all willingly be subjected to humiliation, convert to Islam, or die?”

  Suhrab smiled. “You know the Koran?”

  “Not as well as I should, but I know enough,” his captor replied. “You’ve made some major assumptions in your equation though, Mr. Esfahani,” Josh replied with emphasis.

  “Oh? Do tell?” the man answered, imitating Josh.

  “It just seems to me that the morality that is so intrinsic and ingrained in Christianity is exactly what has allowed your faith to prosper.”

  “You can’t be serious. Allah has never needed assistance from the Jews or the Christians,” the man replied in a tone that was dripping with anti-Semitism.

  “Mr. Esfahani, we are just talking here. However, if you are incapable of having a civil conversation about religion in general, I will find a Rabbi to come to your cell and read the Torah in Hebrew to you just to piss you off. Am I clear?” Josh asked and paused.

  “Or, I could just walk away and let Mr. Chastain here have his way with you. I have a feeling that my presence is the only thing keeping his emotions in check. Are we understood?”

  The tables had most definitely turned on Suhrab. Six months ago he would have been the one calmly chastising his prisoner. Now he was the one receiving the warning. After reviewing his predicament and recognizing the wanton abandon in Gregg’s eye, he opted to nod his understanding.

  “Good. Now, your issues with the Jewish faith notwithstanding, yes, I am serious. Think about it. If we hadn’t stepped in and held the Israeli’s back during that little nuke-fest in your country, there’d be far fewer cities in your native land to call home. Maybe if we just kept on going after we re-took Fallujah, your cities wouldn’t have burned to begin with and this might all be moot. Did our morality get in the way in 1990 and 1991? I think not. Personally, I think it was a different trait there. In that case, I’d say it was our humanity that muddied the waters there more than anything else.

  “Aside from that, you have to consider a great deal of ‘maybe’s’ as well. There were a number of times throughout the course of history, where, if had it played out differently, the Islamic faith would still be a culture of Bedouins, if it existed at all.”

  Suhrab cocked an eyebrow at Josh so he just kept on going.

  “For example, what if we had aided the Russians in Afghanistan instead of supplying arms to al-Qaeda? Then we might have averted Bin Laden and 9/11. Or even further back, if we had sided with the Shah more forcefully in 1978-79, then we would not have had to deal with jihad’s and the Ayatollah, because that’s really where Islamic fanaticism was truly born. Better yet, if Stalin and Roosevelt had done a better job of carving up the Middle East with their little National Geographic map, then the world quite possible would have never heard of any of this and the British might not have gone exploring for oil in the region. However, this is all alternate universe type stuff. Regardless, you and I will have many discussions concerning faith in the coming days... Provided you can keep a civil tongue.”

  “Excellent!” Suhrab replied emphatically. “Finally, I have found an intellectual equal!”

  “You’re not seriously going to engage in theological debates with this ass-clown, are you?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call them debates. At this point, I think it’s safe to say neith
er of us will be successful in converting the other. If I’m being honest, I don’t really have an issue with the Islamic faith. I honestly believe they aren’t all bad people, just like Christians aren’t all snake handlers and picketing abortion clinics. Most Muslims just haven’t read their own book, but I think it’s been intentionally left that way. It’s a far cry from a religion of peace, if their text is any indication. For me, I’d say it’s just bad ideology. Christians today don’t observe most of Leviticus simply because the human mindset and society at large have evolved. We’ve learned more about our body and mind in the two centuries since that text was written. A similar argument could be made for the Koran, minus the learning part.”

  Then Josh paused and surveyed the bound man.

  “I’m not sure he and I will ever have a conversation anyway.”

  “Why’s that?” Gregg asked.

  “Because, the minute Em finds out he’s here and alive, she’ll probably want to put a bullet in his head.”

  “Ah, the good doctor has forgiven the wayward soldier and his lies. Please, give Emily my best… will you,” Suhrab intoned cruelly.

  Gregg abruptly turned and slammed his fist into the side of the man’s head again.

  “Don’t you ever say her name! The only words that better come out of your sewer are the answers to my questions! You got that!”

  * * *

  Sheriff Watson met Josh, Gregg, and Brent at old man Wrigley’s as requested and received a full briefing about all of the activity at the farm. It took a while. First, given their current location, they had to explain how and why the Wrigley family met their fate. This in turn led to the tunnel and the arrival of the Engineers, Hoplite, and President Sarkes. Finally, Gregg concluded with his presence and that of Suhrab. Josh added the Tin Hatter’s, which Jim had already met, and the portable EMP.

  Jim took some time to process the information and asked an occasional follow-up question. Once he was satisfied, he smirked and asked Gregg to leave the room. Once alone, he confided that he had already been to the farm. It turned out that Basilia and Emily had already convinced him there was a couple willing to adopt the boy. He mentioned this privately as he had promised Emily to let it be a surprise to Gregg. Given the revelations in his briefing, he agreed to wait a week before calling Social Services. If Abbas was thwarted, then the Chastain’s would have to go through the regular process just like everyone else.