“Oh, honey. I didn't know you were there.”
“I just got here. I heard you yelling. What's the matter?” Asha strode to her mother's bed, concern still in her voice.
“Oh baby, I don't know. I-I just had a terrible dream about your father. Sarah reached out and placed both hands on Asha's shoulders. Looking straight into her eyes, Sarah said, “Come with me to the prayer room. We must pray for your father now!”
Tears rolled down Asha's face like a stream, her head nodding with acknowledgment. “Oh momma!”
“We must hurry!” Sarah and Asha scurried to the prayer room. “Pray earnestly for your father, now!”
10
First Sergeant Ron Hawkins had a bad feeling about the whole thing from the beginning and now his gut-wrenching anguish stirred inside. Angry at the whole situation, he knew what these fanatics were capable of doing to another human being. More than anything else, Ron was mad at himself for letting his guard down and allowing the current unfavorable conditions surrounding them take place. Worse, another person would pay the consequences alongside him. Now, it just may cost me everything; Sarah, Asha, Caleb, Seth, even my own life, he thought.
It did not take long before Ron realized it was a trap from the outset. After arriving on the outskirts of Fallujah, just as planned, Ron thought about everything Lyna had told him. When the arriving trucks were filled with Black-clad, AK-47 carrying, masked men, he realized Sheik Abdullah Shokar, the powerful Sunni tribal leader who had requested Ron by name, had not sent them. Lyna knew as well.
The trucks halted in the sand, kicking up brown dirt into a cloud. In an instant, the gang of black-clad zealots wearing balaclava-style mask surrounded him and Lyna, standing together behind their Toyota. All of the men held their AK-47 assault rifles pointed towards the two of them. Too late to take action.
A burly man uncovered his face, revealing a heavy, black beard. He approached Ron and Lyna from the lead truck, stopping directly in front of Ron. The bearded man glared at Ron, who stared back, looking straight into his eyes. Neither man flinched. The eyes are the gateway to the soul, Ron thought. It was not the first time he stared into the eyes of evil. Always stand your ground.
Ron mentally dubbed the man he was facing, Blackbeard, due to his long flowing black facial hair matching the flock of hair resting on his shoulders. The color matched his eyes, black, intense; like looking into pitch darkness.
Blackbeard spoke in Arabic, “Remove the scarf from your face.”
Ron felt Lyna's hand, shakily digging through his sleeve into the skin. With his other hand, he slowly removed the scarf covering his face. There was chattering in the background.
“It's him, the American soldier!” A voice called out in Arabic from one of the trucks.
With one quick motion, Blackbeard yanked Lyna from Ron and threw her to the ground where four black clad men pounced over her like ants on honey. Ron was able to get one good punch into Blackbeard's face before four other men from the second truck descended upon him. The burly man waited until Ron was finally subdued.
He had fiercely fought off the first three before feeling the hit from behind the head with a rifle butt by the fourth. The blow caused him to fall to his knees and before he could get up, two men held him while another tied his hands with a piece of cord.
Blackbeard walked over to Ron, slapped him hard, drawing blood from his lip and then spit on him. In Arabic, the man shouted, “You're an infidel and you dare strike me? You will watch your woman love a real man.”
Ron saw Lyna on the ground struggling to fight off the four men. Blackbeard walked towards her. She was crying and screaming at them to stop. “Help, oh God! Help me! Hawk!”
There were twelve men total—five suddenly occupied fully with Lyna. As Ron calculated his unsurmountable odds, he suddenly burst out in Arabic through clenched teeth, “Allah, most high! Allah, most high said! 'Also prohibited to you are all married women except those your right hands possess. Qur'an 4:24; Surat An-Nisā'.” Then he added, “She is my wife! So who is the infidel in Allah's eyes?” Ron was desperate to try something.
The men holding Lyna let go of their grip enough for her to struggle free and jump to her feet. Hair matted and strung over her dirt-stained face, she grabbed her clothes spread across the ground, and ran to the passenger side of the Toyota. Nobody tried to stop her.
Blackbeard walked back towards Ron muttering something unintelligible. Then he spoke loudly, “Alright, infidel, I have the solution. We will kill you first instead. Next, I will make her my wife since she will be a widow. My right hand shall possess her. The others around Ron laughed.
Dragging Ron to the back of the first truck, four of the ISIS men threw him down hard onto the dropped tailgate, causing his knees to buckle in the hot sand. Before he could roll off the truck completely, he felt pain shooting across the back of his shoulders as two men pounded his back with their fists. When finished, they clutched his bloodied shirt collar, to hold him upright.
Behind him, Ron heard both the cheering and jeering, mostly in Arabic, but also in other languages. Blackbeard grabbed his hair and yanked, holding his head back. Pulling out a long, saber-type butcher knife, he held it to Ron's throat. “Look infidel, you will die and the whole world will see. Yes, your family will see too.”
Ron, looking down the best he could, noticed another man holding a video camera in his hand, maneuvering into position for good footage. His mind whirled with flashing images: He and Sarah embracing in love; Asha smiling with pride; Caleb reading to him; Seth giving him a high-five, laughing with glee while wrestling with him. All of it gone now, he thought.
Ron closed his eyes and prayed. Heart pounding through his chest, Ron wondered what heaven would look like when he arrived.
Suddenly, Ron heard something whistle past his ear followed by a snapping crack. He immediately felt a rain of liquid splash over him while pieces of Blackbeard's head and brain splattered beside him on the bed of the truck. Everything, within seconds; the knife at his throat clattered in front of him, the grip on his shoulders no longer held as Blackbeard's body slumped on top of his before rolling off into the sand.
Ron threw himself to the ground, landing next to Blackbeard, to escape 7.62 rounds suddenly spraying around him amidst the crackling of an AK-47 assault rifle unloading with furry. Blackbeard, a single hole between his eyes, still open, had a long red streak running down his beard into a dark puddle in the sand. “You still look evil,” Ron mumbled.
In between the popping sound from the assault rifle, Ron heard a more distinct high-pitched whistling sound followed by loud crackling thuds piercing the air. He waited. The guns fell silent.
Ron laid still, not wanting to catch any stray bullets, especially after realizing he was still alive on planet earth. For the moment, he saw only the powdered sand oozing with blood around his head, hoping none of it was his own. Everything was quiet. Then he heard Lyna's voice. “Hawk, are you okay?” Lyna cut the cord binding his hands and plopped next to him on her knees.
He looked at her panicked stricken face and answered, “I think so. What happened?”
Lyna pulled his head into her bosom and held his head. “Oh thank God, thank God, thank you God!”
Ron tried to pull away, without much force, because he noticed her clinging on tightly, bursting into tears. He slowly put his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled away. It's okay now, Lyna. It's okay. It'll be alright.”
She looked back at him, wiping her face streaked with wet dirt, and nodded her head.
Ron got up and helped Lyna to her feet. “How about you? What happened?”
Lyna lifted her head towards the eastern berm, straining to see something. “I don't know. I took advantage of those men gathering in a pack. They stopped thinking about me and wanted to be in the video behind that—that butcher. So, I reached for my rifle when the bearded one was about to cut your throat. Then it happened! His head exploded! I took advantage of his shocked men and started
shooting at them. Some fell before I could finish.”
Ron walked over to the Toyota looking for bottled water and his rucksack, which contained a box of baby wipes. Cleaning himself of drying blood, he looked over at the eastern berm, hoping for a clue but saw nothing. “If the sniper was Chris, he would have revealed himself by now. I don't see anything. You wait here.”
“Hold on, you missed something.” Lyna grabbed some wipes and began cleaning the back of his neck and head. “Very messy.”
“Thanks.” Ron grabbed his AK-47 and crouched hesitantly to the berm, hoping whoever just saved their lives might reveal himself before he reached the top. Nobody did. When he arrived, there was no sign of anybody. He grabbed his binoculars and scanned the horizon. One spot of movement caught his attention. He could barely make out a low flying helicopter heading northeast. “No way,” he uttered to himself. “Looks just like the Russian Black Shark.”
Shots from an AK-47 go off behind him caused him to drop to the ground. Looking back to where he left Lyna, he saw that she was putting a few extra rounds into a couple of the black-clad bodies. Ron jumped up and ran to her.
When he returned to the area, Lyna had cleaned up as well, also using some of his wipes. He understandably noted a change in her full demeanor. “What did you see there?” Lyna asked.
“Nothing at the site. Do you know of any H-60's or Ka-50's operating in this region?”
“Not any of our Blackhawks. And, why would the Russians be here?”
Ron, impressed by her knowledge asked, “Why wouldn't we have any Blackhawks here?”
“Because we have requested them and were told none were available until December. Why do you ask?”
“Well, I saw what looked like it could have been either one flying low over the horizon heading northeast. I have heard rumors about the Israelis having an H-60. Is this true?”
“Not officially, but there have been reports.”
Ron looked a little concerned. “Interesting. Depending on which chopper it was, it could be the Israelis or Russians.”
A silver SUV suddenly appeared from around the berm, followed by two white SUVs, causing Ron and Lyna to both raise their weapons and aim it towards the oncoming vehicles. “Not again!” Lyna mumbled with a trembling voice.”
The driver stopped and held out a white flag from his window. Ron and Lyna exchanged glances. “Cover me,” Ron said as he walked slowly towards the SUV pointing his weapon towards the front windshield.
The driver slowly opened his door causing Ron to stop abruptly. Yelling in Arabic, Ron shouted, “Drop to the ground and do not approach!”
The man in traditional Arab garb hesitated.
“Do it now or I will shoot!” Ron yelled.
Instead, the man lifted his hands high in the air and shouted back in English, “Are you okay, commander Hawk?”
Ron, squinted in the sunlight. Lifting his hand slowly to shade his eyes, he answered, “Hassan?”
Hassan was one of Sheik Abdullah's five sons.
“Eee, akeed (yes, of course),” Hassan said smiling.
Ron lowered his rifle and started towards Hassan. As he got closer to the vehicle, he noted three other occupants, two of whom were women.
“My brother, what happened here?” Hassan began.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
The passenger door slowly opened, prompting Lyna to yell, “Watch your six!”
Ron held his hand up towards Lyna when he saw Sheik Abdullah Shokar emerge from the passenger seat and stood still, looking at Ron. “It is okay, Lyna, you can put your weapon away.”
Lyna still held it high. “Please!” Ron emphasized.
She hesitantly lowered her rifle to point towards the sand at a forty-five degree angle.
Ron walked slowly towards the Sheik, weapon at his side pointing down and stopped three feet away. Placing his hand over his heart and with a slight bow, Ron said, “As-salamu Alaaykum.”
The Sheik repeated Ron's gesture and answered in English, “And peace be upon you, my brother.” Abdullah Shokar took a step towards Ron and gave him a hug. Ron sensed Lyna's presence moving closer and her arms flinch when the Sheik moved towards him.
Both men smiled at each other and Abdullah spoke first in Arabic. “Thank you so much for coming at my request.”
Well, at least this part was true, Ron thought. Answering in Arabic, Ron answered, “Your message sounded urgent. You wish to save your daughter, Mariam by sending her with me?”
“Yes.” Abdullah motioned towards the two women in the back seat to join him. Ron realized only then there was another armed man in the very back. The two women, covered with traditional Arab clothing from their tribe approached them. “You remember my wife Najwa,” he said looking towards her. Turning to the other girl, “and my daughter, Mariam. She was much smaller then.”
Ron smiled and said, “It's very nice to see you both again, and in good health.”
Najwa responded with a pleasant thank you, but still looked apprehensive. Mariam spoke up in English, “I remember you commander Hawk.”
Hassan joined them, as did the man who was sitting in the back. He was casting a wary eye on Lyna who was doing the same with him, both with weapons at their sides. Whoever was in the other vehicles, remained inside.
“Commander Hawk, please forgive us for not being here sooner. We only knew you might be here today when my cousin overheard some ISIS street talk about getting an American at the industrial center outside the city. Then, we guessed that it might be you so we mustered up some men from our tribe and got here as quickly as we could. My father insisted on coming.”
“Who are they? How did they know?”
“These men live in Fallujah. They are Abu Waheeb's men. ISIS.”
Sheik Abdullah spoke up, “They are the ones who control us. We must pretend to cooperate, for now.”
Hassan continued. “Somehow they found out you were coming before we did.”
Ron and Lyna exchanged troubled glances.
“Please, will you take my daughter, Mariam, with you now, commander Hawk? She will go.” Sheik Abdullah said.
Ron looked down at Mariam who nodded her agreement. Then he looked at Najwa and could see tears streaming down her cheek.
“My mother is for this too, but you must understand she will miss Mariam. We will all miss her but we know it is for the best,” Hassan added.
“Oh, I do understand, believe me, I do.” Ron could not imagine Sarah ever parting with Asha, for any reason, unless it was life or death.
“This is what we know about you, commander Hawk.”
Ron looked straight at Najwa and in the most compassionate voice he could muster, said in Arabic, “Mama, my family and I will welcome Mariam as one of our own.”
Najwa began crying loudly and Sheik Abdullah held her tightly.
“Please Commander Hawk. Go now before word gets back to Fallujah.”
“What about the package?” Lyna said.
“What package?” Hassan answered.
“The one…”
Ron interjected, “The one with all the information needed by our government in exchange for taking Mariam.”
Sheik Abdullah and Hassan looked at each other in dismay. The Sheik answered. “Commander Hawk, we gave this package to the man, Davis, in Kirkuk, a month ago. He told us your country could not accept our offer until we delivered the information first for evaluation. This is why we did not know you would be here. Nobody told us you would come for Mariam. You must believe me.”
Ron and Lyna both looked ashen. “I didn't see any such information!” Lyna said with a rising voice.
“Never mind!” Ron said. You're right, we must be going!”
“Hawk, would you mind if I spoke to Hassan briefly before we leave?”
“No, not at all. Go ahead.”
“In private.”
Ron gave her a suspicious look. “Okay, but please hurry.”
Lyna and Hassan moved off toward
s the berm and had a discussion in Arabic. Ron could not hear their exchange but at one point, the two seemed to be arguing. Lyna returned and put on a fixed smile for Ron.
“Everything alright?”
“All's good. Ready to go?”
Ron continued to watch her and then glanced briefly at Hassan who was whispering something to Sheik Abdullah. He did not appear too pleased either.
“Hassan, is everything okay?”
“Yes commander Hawk. Everything is fine. Mariam will go with you now.”
Najwa and Mariam gave each other one final hug, needing Abdullah's slight tug to remove his wife from her. He also looked long and hard at Mariam and could not fight back the tear that rolled down his cheek. “God will be with you now, my child. Go in peace.”
“Lyna, please…” Ron started but Lyna already placed her arm around Mariam and led her to the Toyota, speaking to her in Arabic. Ron stayed behind to render his farewell to Abdullah's family. Looking at the Sheik, Ron said, “Your daughter is our daughter, until we meet again.”
The Sheik nodded, too choked up to speak. With a long bow, he quickly turned away, ushering Najwa with him, followed by the guard. Hassan spoke, “Be careful Commander Hawk. Somebody from your side set you up.”
Ron looked at him. “I know, Hassan. I know.”
When Ron returned to the grisly site, he stopped briefly around Blackbeard, looking for any clues. The entrance and exit wound in his head looked like it could have been the result of a 7.62 round, but it was a clean single shot. Based on the distance of the northeastern berm at 500 meters, he surmised it that a M24 Remington 700 was the weapon used. Ron walked over to the video camera lying in a heap next to a dead ISIS terrorist and grabbed it to take with him. Hopefully there will be some other data recorded that we can use for our benefit, he thought.
Lyna was helping a crying Mariam into the middle seat, talking gently to her. Ron stopped and looked at Mariam. “You remember me and I remember you. You will always be safe with me, as you know. I…my family, will take care of you until we can bring you home again someday. For now, we will be your family. Is this okay?”
Love In The House Of War Page 19
