by Oliver Tuson
Charlie team had taken up position by the rear of the helicopter. All kneeling down and facing out. Searching for any danger at this vulnerable time. Before the ramp had even fully opened, alpha and bravo teams were sprinting up it towards the load master who counted the soldiers onboard, including the one extra passenger as Sanchez pushed the captive doctor onboard. Behind them, charlie team filtered on to the aircraft one by one.
Before Clarke had even reached the front of the hull, the pilot had the helicopter rising into the moonlit night sky and was flying fast and low across the rooftops of the city towards the safety of the Green Zone.
4
Premonition
04:30, 15th August 2003
Northern Baghdad, Iraq
Clarke let out a deep breath as he finally sat down on the bench running the length of the aircraft. The adrenaline that had flooded him during the assault was slowly leaving his system. He felt the usual tiredness starting to kick in as he shook his hands out as if to shake off the final effects of the hormone.
“Good work bravo!” said Captain Richardson as he pushed past and sat down next to Clarke. The charlie team leader handed him an opened plastic bottle of water. Clarke nodded his thanks as he drained the small bottle in a few gulps, suddenly realising how thirsty he was. “From what I saw, you boys had a good fight in there!” Richardson added with a hint of jealousy. Before Clarke could respond someone else spoke over the drone of the engines.
“Just get on with it and kill me.” It was the first time Ahmed had spoken since Sanchez had placed him in restraints. His English was perfect and caught Clarke by surprise, although his middle eastern accent was still thick behind the words. The bravo team leader looked at the doctor who sat opposite him, sandwiched between Sanchez and Hawkins. His hands still cuffed behind his back, shoulders slumped forward and his head looking down. All Clarke could see was the man's balding head.
“I don't know why you didn’t do it at the house?” He added, almost surprised he was still alive and seated on the helicopter. “What a waste of resources. You could have just used your drones to destroy us all from the safety of your precious Green Zone.” Ahmed’s voice was almost mocking them. Questioning their tactics and planning as if he knew better. Clarke remained silent and gave Richardson a quizzical look as the sounds of the droning engines filled the pause until the doctor spoke again.
“Unless it's not you who will be pulling the trigger?” Ahmed shook his head gently and gave a soft laugh. Laughing at a joke that only he knew. He stopped after a few moments. “Either way, I’m a dead man.” He took a long deep breath, still looking down at the floor of the helicopter.
“No one's going to kill you. That's not what we do.” Jasper told him casually from next to Clarke. “That's what you do. That's what your people do. At least, that's what your regime did do… but not anymore.” Ahmed looked up at that. Looking deep into Jasper’s eyes. It was the most Clarke had heard Jasper say in a while. The usually quiet soldier’s voice was full of scorn and emotion that was so out of place for the man. For a brief moment, Clarke wondered if Jasper did really join the military for his brothers' revenge. And if he did, Clarke was good with that.
“So what? You want what is in my head?” His gaze travelled across to Clarke. “You want intelligence, yes?” Ahmed nodded his head slowly, as if finally understanding something he had been thinking about. “But what do you want to know? And what do you know?” He asked as he looked at the two men in turn.
“Do you know what I did for them? Do you know the work I did for those people?” Ahmed waited for a response but Clarke said nothing. Instead he simply waited for the doctor to continue. And after a pause he did. “The weapons I helped create… I did create… They can kill thousands. Destroy armies and military installations with ease and wipe out the inhabitants of entire cities. True weapons of mass destruction!”
Clarke could feel all the men within earshot lean in a little closer to the captive’s choice of words. Had they done it? Had they finally found some tangible proof of the nukes and the WMDs. After all this time, the man in front of them might well hold the key to it all, Clarke thought with a sense of building excitement and victory. Ahmed let out a sigh as he recalled his involvement with the elusive weapons.
“The level of destruction these weapons can inflict on a nation is beyond measure. Such destruction, such loss of life…” He trailed off as if his mind recalled some past event. A moment later the doctor continued. “That is why I left. That is why I abandoned the programme and tried to flee this country. Or at least tried to escape.” He shook his head with regret at being captured. “Those men you all mercilessly killed. They were going to get me out. Out of this forsaken place and to a safety far from here.” Ahmed looked silently back at the floor as he thought of the men who died trying to get him out and how close to freedom he had been.
“So, you made the weapons? Then what? Simply had a change of heart?” Hawkins added dryly.
“Yes, I did help make the weapons. I am indeed guilty of my part in their creation.” Ahmed looked at Hawkins. “And yes, once I saw what I had done, once I saw what I had helped create I did, as you say, have a change of heart.” He looked back at Clarke.
“But they wouldn’t let me leave. They told me if I tried to leave, I would be killed. They said I was too valuable to the weapons programme.” He chuckled slightly remembering the conversation. “Imagine that, my own success being my downfall!”
“But you did get away?” Richardson added, prying for more information. “I tried to get away from them. I covered my tracks and escape. And I thought I had truly made it until recently. But now I’m a dead man. I will be silenced for what I know and what I did. Especially the manner of my escape from them.” He looked back down at his feet. The doctor looked defeated and broken. Clarke glanced up at Millerchip who had joined the conversation and gave him a questioning expression, unsure of what Ahmed was getting at.
“Your regime has ended. Your government is crippled. Its armies disbanded. The coalition now run this country, doctor.” Millerchip stated in a smooth reassuring tone. “You will be safe with us…” Millerchip leaned in closer as he spoke whilst trying to connect further with the man. “…if you cooperate with us.” Ahmed shook his head at the alpha leader’s words.
“It's not my regime I fear now, it's your people. Your government. Your assassins… and your weapons.”
Clark leaned back trying to work out what he was getting at, whilst Ahmed looked at the confused expressions on the men surrounding him.
“You people. You’re unbelievable. You want the WMDs?” You came here looking for the WMDs? You started an entire war for the WMDs.” He shook his head and grinned a little, as if laughing at a joke that only he knew.
“But all along it’s you. It’s your governments. Your soldiers. Your weapons that cause the death and destruction of the world.” He laughed again and looked directly at Clarke. “How do you think you found me so easily?” He nodded slowly as if helping a child understand a simple equation. Nodding his head to help to tease the obvious answer out. “I've been contributing to the weapons programme for years. But now? When I decide to leave? Then I magically appear on your radars?” He didn’t wait for a reply but continued on at speed.
“You found me not because I am a part of this regime and its deadly weapons, but because I'm trying to get out. Because I no longer want to be a part of the future of death and destruction. And your government cannot allow that. Because your government does not want them found.” He sat back and sighed heavily. The soldiers around him trying to solve his riddles.
“They will be destroying the evidence even as we speak. I’m a dead man. But I will not take their secrets to the grave with me. Here’s the truth.” He leaned in closer to Clarke. “They do exist. These weapons you hunt so aggressively. They are here, in this country. Write this down now, because I’m dead the second you get me to your precious Green Zone.” Clarke took the opportunity fo
r more intelligence and quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen and notebook, writing down the numbers that the doctor rattled off.
“A grid reference?” Clarke confirmed after reading the numbers back.
“You’ll find your precious weapons there. Your justification for invading these lands. It’s all there…. at least for now…” He shrugged off the last comment.
“What do you mean ….” But Clarke was cut off.
“Brace! Brace! Brace!” The pilot’s warning cut through the intercom system and was instantly followed by a sharp turn by the helicopter. The turn causing the passengers to fall about the hull. Clarke heard the pings of bullets hitting the aircraft followed by a full barrage of higher calibre rounds smashing against it. Clarke regained his balance and scrambled towards the pilots at the front.
“We are losing the back engine!” The pilot grimaced as he tried to control the aircraft. “Shit! They got a lucky shot on the engine block!” The pilots panicked voice drowned out as more rounds hit the hull. “We are going down! Tell your men to get ready. I can keep it controlled as long as the rear rotors hold…”
As Clarke quickly moved back, the pilot began to descend the aircraft as safely as he could manage with the damaged controls. Clarke shouted at the soldiers to brace for impact, expecting the landing to be rough. Just as he went to sit his eyes met Ahmeds. Their gazes locking intently.
“I told you. They won't let you take me alive. They were waiting for us. They knew the route…!”
The pilots panicked shout cut him off. “It’s gone!” The aircraft started to rotate heavily as the counter blades no longer stopped the spinning of the hull. The morning sun was just creeping over the horizon, which now shone through the windows as the helicopter spun like a corkscrew towards the ground below.
“Brace, brace, brace!” the pilot yelled as Clarke tried to throw himself onto the bench next to Jasper who was reaching out, trying to grab his hand and pull him towards the seat and safety belts. Too late.
The landing was rough. The aircraft hit an open patch of derelict ground hard. The rear rotor blades, no longer turning dug into the ground and snapped under the pressure of the moving hulk as it skidded forward. The earth around the helicopter was thrown up, parting around it like water splashing past a speedboat. The cockpit glass cracked and shattered as rocks and sand rained through the window and into the hull covering the pilots and passengers whilst buzzing and alarms wailed from the cockpits control panels.
The impact snatched Clarke from Jasper’s grip and slammed him into the bulkhead before sending him tumbling down the length of the hull, eventually hitting the rear door headfirst. He could just make out the smell of smoke from the fire that now engulfed the rear engine and could hear the panicked shouts of his comrades as Clarke’s world turned black and he slipped into unconsciousness.
5
Ambush
04:10, 15th August 2003
Northern Baghdad, Iraq
The explosion was deafening. The smell of smoke instantly filling the air. Thick black fumes from the fire that was now raging through the expensive open plan apartment in London and spreading into the rest of the building. Intense gunfire continued violently from across the large fancy lounge. The shooters relentless in their deadly surprise attack on Clarke and his men who were helplessly crouched behind cover in the bulky modern kitchen area.
Clarke looked down at Pike. The dying body of his friend and team member growing more and more still as the bullets whistled overhead. The gunshot wounds to his chest were bleeding heavily through Clarkes fingers as he tried desperately to stop the bleeding. But the blood kept seeping through the gaps like sand from an hourglass.
“Hang in there buddy!” Clarke ordered his friend as he looked at his face only to be greeted by lifeless eyes staring blankly back up at him. His heart sank as he looked through the thickening smoke towards the other two members of his team, crouching behind some wooden cover as they both fired towards the group of gunmen across the room. Carter was bleeding heavily from a wound to his thigh. His blood running down his leg and starting to pool around him on the polished marble floor.
“Back up won't make it in time! You have to go!” Carter shouted at Clarke, as bullets smashed against the cover the two men were crouched behind. “I'm not leaving you!” Clarke shouted in defiance as a bullet hit the solider next to Carter, making him stumble back in pain, clutching at his shoulder. “You have to go! GO!” Carter screamed. Clarke shook his head as his world was shattering around him and let out a deep cry of frustration…
“Clarke… hey boss!” The voice was distant. Muffled. “You with me boss!” Jasper’s voice then hit him. Dragging him from his tortuous dream. “Open your eyes, stay with me…” Clarke blinked his eyes open and saw Jasper standing over him.
“My men… they are dead…” Clarke’s words were almost a whisper as he shook off the painful dream.
“What? No! No, we are all good boss! That was a rough one but we are all alive!” He offered his hand and Clarke gripped it, pulling himself to his feet. His head was banging from the impact as he looked up at the rest of bravo. Sanchez was still seated with Ahmed in his grip. Even the crash hadn’t shaken the man. Hawkins was climbing up off the floor shaking his head.
“Let's not do that again,” the young solider said as he looked at his older friend still seated. Clarke felt a wash of relief flood over him as he saw his team moving around. The horror of his dream was bringing back a wave of feelings and emotions that he always tried to suppress.
“I told you I’m a dead man,” said Ahmed as he tried to shake Sanchez’s grip off again and stand up.
“You're still breathing, ain’t you?” Sanchez replied as he pushed him firmly back into the seat.
“For now, at least.” Hawkins threatened as he pushed past the man to move towards the rear door of the aircraft where he helped the load master to his feet. Clarke looked around at the rest of the passengers. Miraculously, everyone looked ok. Just shaken and thrown round a bit with a few cuts and bruises.
“We all good?” shouted Millerchip as he helped Richardson up. A series of positive replies echoed about the wrecked hull. “Good lads! Now come on, we gotta secure the crash site. I’ll go check on the pilots.’ The alpha leader gestured towards the rear door as he moved towards the cockpit. “Get that open and get out there now!”
The ramp whined to life as the load master hit the buttons. As it descended down, the bright light of the morning sunrise came flooding in, making the banging in Clarke’s battered head worsen. He closed his eyes for a brief second as his sight adjusted to the light. He smelt the river before he opened his eyes again. Blinking them open as his sight adjusted to the bright light, he could see the Tigris running past the rear of the aircraft, only a few meters away. Patches of bright green reeds springing up all around the base of the ramp.
“That was close…” said Sanchez as he pulled Ahmed to his feet and moved down towards Clark and the rest of bravo team that were now making their way down the ramp.
The pilot was good. He brought them down in an open derelict area by the bank of the River Tigris, just missing the buildings and homes of the locals. A bit further and they would have been swimming, a bit shorter and they would have crashed heavily into the buildings. Clarke looked over the wide river bank. The Green Zone was just the other side. Its perimeter fence and large concrete barricades reaching up to protect the coalition forces the other side. So close yet so far, he thought as he glanced down the river to where the closest bridge to gain access to the safety zone was. Too far, he thought as he turned his attention to the aircraft.
The helicopter was a mess. The rear rotor block was on fire, thick smoke bellowing from it. Evidence of the gunshots were riddled across the hull of the aircraft. He glanced back towards the buildings of the city. About hundred meters of open ground separated them. But as Clarke looked harder, his eyes adjusting to the sun, he could see the ground wasn’t that open.
Old building foundations and piles of rubble littered the area. Knee high broken walls lined some of the ground. There must have been homes here once, or buildings of some sort. Now only the shattered remains of the foundations and rubble remained.
Shock and Awe. Clarke thought back to the initial attack on the country. Multiple missile strikes hitting key military locations to weaken the country before the invasion began. Whatever was here, whether a legitimate target or not, must have fallen victim to the missile strikes that had rained down many months ago.
Millerchip and one of the pilots walked down the ramp and joined bravo outside. Clarke pointed to the thick smoke pumping out of the engine rising high into the clear morning sky. “That's a beacon to every fighter in the city to come get us.” Millerchip nodded his agreement and tapped his radio.
“Troops are already mobilising from the Green Zone, eta ten mins. In the meantime, set a perimeter and…” His words were cut short as a burst of gunfire erupted from across the open ground as a group of vehicles screeched to a stop. Fighters were jumping off the back of pickup trucks and diving out of cars, all instantly firing at the wreckage.
Bullets pinged and bounced off the metal aircraft hull as all the soldiers quickly dived for cover in and around the rear of the wrecked aircraft.
Inside the hull, the echoing of the bullets hitting against it was intense. The few soldiers that could return fire did so through the small broken windows of the helicopter. Their assault rifles adding to the deafening noise of the firefight.
“Fuck!” Hawkins shouted as bullet shattered a window near his head, raining glass over him. “This things a fucking bullet magnet!” Clarke leant around the side of the aircraft. There was no decent cover nearby. Just an exposed riverbed and plenty of open ground with patches of ruble and piles of bricks. More vehicles had pulled up on the road the far side of the open ground. Fighters leaping out and adding to the assault. A few of the braver ones were stood on top of the vehicle’s roofs to get a better view of the isolated soldiers whilst firing wildly at them.
