by Oliver Tuson
A round pinged off the metal of the hull mere inches from Clarke’s face causing him to duck back behind cover again. “We are sitting targets here!” Hawkins said as he fired few rounds towards the enemy. Clarke nodded his agreement as he spoke.
“We gotta keep it up till the QRF arrives, return fire!” He joined Hawkins and leant out around the side of the wreckage. He quickly raised his weapon and sighted one fighter on a vehicle roof and fired. The round hit him in his centre of mass, sending him falling backwards to the ground below. Before Clarke could aim at the next fighter, a series of bullets smashed around him again forcing him back behind the cover of the wreckage with Hawkins. Jasper jumped out the back of the aircraft and joined them.
“We have to keep them back!” Clarke instructed. “Ready!” They all leant around the wreckage and sent bursts of gunfire towards the vehicles before being forced back again under the weight of the enemy’s fire. “Fuck! We are pinned down!” Hawkins shouted in frustrated rage.
“Here they come!” One of charlie team shouted from inside the hull as he sighted one of the vehicles quickly moving towards the crashed hulk. The flatbed pickup was driving at full speed. Skidding between small wall remains and exposed iron from the foundations. Four fighters stood on the back firing wildly at the wreckage whilst trying to hold on tight with one hand. Clarke looked at Jasper. “Take the driver!”
They waited until the vehicle was about thirty meters away then both leant out of the cover and sent a hail of bullets crashing into the windscreen of the pickup truck, killing the driver instantly.
The vehicle veered hard and crashed violently into the side of the aircraft shaking the hull and causing the soldiers inside to shout and swear in frustration. The four fighters leapt off just before the crash. Landing hard and staggering to their feet whilst trying to rush towards Clarke’s position and the open ramp at the rear.
Jasper and Hawkins fired, hitting the first two whilst Clarke opened up on the third hitting him in the head. The fourth just had time to pull the pin on a grenade and went to throw it. All three bravos fired on him. Multiple rounds tearing his torso and head apart. The grenade fell from his dead hand. “Cover!” Screamed Clarke as he pulled Jasper back into the hull as Hawkins dived on top of them both. The grenade exploded sending shrapnel smashing against the side of the hull whilst a huge dust cloud went up, covering the aircraft and leaving the three men coughing in the sheets of dust raining down.
“We good?” Clarke eventually managed whilst spitting out a mouthful of grit. “Awesome boss!” Hawkins said wiping blood from a flesh wound on his head.
“QRF are two minutes out!” Shouted one of charlie team whilst operating the radio to command.
“Come on! We got this! Keep it up! Just keep them back!” Millerchip was shouting at the soldiers from inside the wrecked hull. Trying desperately to organise a defence from the confined position. Fighters were sprinting to the sides of the open ground. Trying to crouch behind the small walls and exposed foundations. The task force’s soldiers kept up the defence. Sending bullets across the battle field to find any exposed part of the fighters. But it wasn’t enough. The enemy were slowly circling round. Flanking the wreckage and beginning to attack the soldiers from three sides.
“Shit! They are flanking us!” One of charlie team shouted whilst firing through the broken windows.
“Keep them back! Just keep it up! Not long now!” Millerchip’s voice was full of stern command as he organised the men.
“RPG!” The warning came a second before the explosion rocked the front of the helicopter. Its hull creaking in protest from the blast. A fresh wave of dust and sand flowed through the craft. Breaching its way through broken windows and bullet holes. A series of coughs and spluttered curses followed from the soldiers inside. The massive dust cloud hid the downed helicopter from the enemy fighters’ view for a few seconds, buying the men trapped within some cover.
Sanchez appeared from the cloud of dust pushing Ahmed down the back of the ramp where it was probably safer now. “We can't take another of them,” he shouted over the noise to Clarke as he pushed Ahmed firmly down, wedging him between the ground and the metal protection of the rear of the aircraft. “Keep your head down!” he needlessly shouted at the man who curled up as the bullets kept raining down on the battered helicopter. The endless metallic ringing sounding like rain on a tin roof. “Fuck! RPG incoming!”
Another RPG rocketed towards the wreck. The rocket just missed the front of the aircraft and hit the bank of the river close to the rear of the aircraft near to bravo team. The blast sending water and sand up and knocking the closest solider, Sanchez to the ground. Smashing him down hard on top of his prisoner. His ears ringing, he felt a wave of nausea hit him along with the disorientation and debris. The rest of bravo had just managed to get to cover and now stumbled back to the ramp to help their comrade.
“Fuck! Sanchez!” Hawkins was there pulling him up. “That was too close brother!” Hawkins said as he quickly looked him over for injuries. “Your good buddy!” Hawkins’ voice was full of relief for his friend. “But maybe get him back inside!” He gestured to Ahmed who was coughing in the dust. His chest no doubt bruised from the scotsman's heavy bulk smashing down on him. They both reached down and pulled the doctor to his feet.
“Back inside you!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Sanchez felt the warmth of the blood splash over his face as Ahmed was killed instantly by the high-powered round that hit his torso, puncturing his heart and lungs with ease. The bullet penetrated through the body and went ricocheting into the aircraft close to a charlie team soldier who flinched down.
“Fuck…” Was all Sanchez could manage before gravity snatched the lifeless body from his grip. All of bravo team hurriedly looked about for the shooter.
“Who the fuck shot that!” Hawkins shouted over the noise of the war zone. The only angle the round could have come from was over the river. One by one as they all realised it, they looked towards the far bank of the Tigris where the buildings rose up and the Green Zone began.
Seconds later the heavy gunfire from across the open area started to patter out until only a few lone shots echoed across the battlefield. Then nothing. Just the heavy breathing of the group of soldiers remained as they let out gasps of relief.
All of bravo looked at each other, then down to the dead body of Doctor Mohamed Ahmed, who had predicted his own death. “QRF inbound!” came a shout from inside the hull. Clarke glanced across the open ground to where a series of US military vehicles now moved at speed towards the crash site.
“Good timing boys,” Hawkins said sarcastically to himself as he sat down on the ramp exhausted and tried to wipe away the thick dust that clung to his body. Sanchez gave him a soft punch to the shoulder as he joined him on the ramp. Both men’s boots only inches from the bloody mess of the HVT. Clarke looked at the body that had been so important to the success of the task force.
As he did, he reached in to his pocket and touched the notepad where the grid reference was written as the doctor’s words played on his mind.
“… your assassins… your weapons!” He tore his gaze from the corpse and back to the Green Zone where the deadly sniper would be watching them through a high-powered rifle scope.
6
Reorg
06:40, 15th August 2003
TF64 HQ, Green Zone, Baghdad, Iraq
Just over two hours later the soldiers of TF64 were walking down a corridor towards the briefing room in the safety of the Green Zone for a hot debrief. Fresh off the battle field, the men were still covered in thick dirt and dust from the helicopter crash. Some sporting light injuries, that were covered by bright white bandages. The evidence of their close encounter with death causing a few of the analysts to stare a bit too long at the men that emerged into the briefing room first. Especially at Sanchez, who still wore the blood from the assassinated HVT, marking the mission a failure.
“How's the head?” Williams said as
he walked along side Clarke. The solider and medic from charlie team had gone around the soldiers once the QRF had arrived to support and secure the downed helicopter. Williams had patched up their injuries and checked them all over. Knowing Clarke had been knocked unconscious in the crash, he had spent longer on the bravo team leader due to the head injury. Clarke rubbed the injured area as he answered the medic.
“I'm good thanks. Could have been a lot worse out there.”
“You're sure right about that.” They both fell silent for a second as they recalled the close encounter of the crash and subsequent intense firefight. “You did well out there.” Clarke eventually added, praising the way the medic had quickly gone about the men and treated their injuries. Williams, ever humble, simply nodded his thanks.
The smell of food suddenly greeted the two of them as they reached the end of the corridor and stepped into the briefing room. The task force’s chefs had cooked up a mountain of food that sat on a table in the middle. “The best medicine of all!” Williams said as he took in the sight.
Until Clarke saw the hot pile of food he didn’t release how hungry he was. “Excellent!” Hawkins said as excitedly pushed past the two men towards it. “Sorry boss.” He gestured an apology without slowing down, or looking back.
“Save some for the rest of us.” Williams replied as he sped up away from Clarke and followed the younger solider towards the steaming breakfast.
“Boss!” Jaspers voice came from across the room where he was stood at the entrance to the operations area. He pointed towards the drone operator sat at his workstation. “You will want to see this…” Clarke felt his stomach rumble at the thought of the food, causing him to glance at it again. All the soldiers were piling around it, snatching at the food like starving wolves around a carcass. Sanchez’s large frame could be seen at the front. The scotsman no doubt filling up a huge plate to feed his massive appetite. Clarke sighed as he considered queuing for food or attending to Jaspers intrigue.
Knowing Jasper it would be important, he thought to himself eventually. As he headed towards the man, he silently hoped there would be some food left after the others had their fill. “What's up?” He asked as he followed him into the operations room and up to the drone workstation.
“Our man here,” he said as he tapped the drone operator’s shoulder, “is on the grid reference Ahmed gave up.”
Clarke recalled how he radioed the location over to the director as soon as the crash site was secure. The conversation had not been easy. Explaining the death of the target and the mission failure. The director had made it clear through her voice she was not pleased. Their first real lead for the hunt for the weapons lying dead next to a destroyed multimillion-pound aircraft. Not a good start to the day for the director of TF64.
However, when he had recapped the conversation with the doctor and sent the grid reference over, he sensed the mood lighten a fraction. Somehow still offering hope to the task force leader. Only then, Clarke noted with a change of opinion towards her, did she ask about any casualties from the teams.
Clarke took in the sight from monitor of the predator drone that was flying high over the location the doctor had died giving up. A large rocky hill, almost to the size of a small mountain, rose out of the dry desert reaching towards the early morning Iraqi sky. On the southern side, in its large shadow, lay a cluster of small buildings. The simple structures scattered around a track that ran from the centre of the small village and up the hill, stopping suddenly just short of the top of the large rocky feature.
“I’ve seen no movement since the predator got on site, sir.” The drone operator spoke almost reading Clarke’s thoughts.
“What is that track? Nothing connects to it? No roads nearby?” Clarke asked running his finger along the length of it.
“No sir. Nothing nearby at all. No roads anywhere near. No other villages or towns for miles and miles. Just a random isolated village in the middle of the desert.”
“So, what was the good doctor trying to give us then?” Clarke asked openly, starring at the grainy video feed before them as Hawkins approached holding a plate of steaming food that quickly drew Clarke’s attention, causing him to look at it in envy. Hawkins leant in and looked closely at the monitor, and pointed a greasy finger at the buildings.
“No way they are making nukes there boss.” He offered through a mouth full of fried food. The buildings looked like simple wooden cabins, only two floors, maybe one or two rooms maximum.
“But Ahmed gave us this location for a reason?” Jasper replied.
“A storage site? Maybe shipped out there when the invasion started. Getting the weapons or war heads away from the factories where they could be collected at a later date?” Sanchez had joined the group and instantly threw himself into the conversation.
“What factories?” Hawkins added sarcastically. “We haven’t found shit. No way the nukes are there. Ahmed is wrong.”
“I don’t know,” Clarke shook his head as he replied. “Ahmed said they would be packing up. Destroying evidence and covering their tracks. Maybe they have. Maybe they are gone.”
“Gone where? It’s the middle of nowhere? No vehicle tracks? No nothing. I’m telling you Ahmed is wrong. Another dead end.” Hawkins said firmly before putting more food in his mouth.
“Helicopter perhaps?” Sanchez added. The group considered it whilst looking at the screen for any sign of aircraft landing areas.
“Either way gentleman, it's still the most solid intelligence we have…” The director said as she approached the group. “Even with the recent failure to keep our HVT alive.” Clarke felt the cold undertone of her voice as she spoke and hoped Hawkins wouldn’t step out of line and say something they’d all regret. Luckily, the man was too engrossed in finishing his food, his mouth full and unable to speak.
“We know he was involved in weapons programmes. If he was telling you the truth on the helicopter, and the weapons do exist, then there is no reason for him to lie about a location. Especially if he was truly trying to get out of the country to safety.” Bravo team all considered her logic. “The fact he’s dead and died in the manner he did, also adds truth to his story,” she added.
“Unless it was just blind luck from the insurgents. Opportunistic fighters getting a lucky hit on a coalition aircraft.” Hawkins said, finally having finished his plate of food.
“That sniper was more than an opportunistic shooter…” Sanchez replied as he looked down at the blood from the doctor that still clung to his clothing. The director dismissed the opinions of the team and quickly moved on, tapping the screen where the buildings sat in the shadow of the massive hill.
“Either way, Ahmed and this location is the best lead we have had in all this time hunting these weapons.” She took a deep breath as she settled her frustration at the conversation and recent failure, whilst trying to remain professional. “And the brass wants results.” Clarke nodded lightly in agreement, thinking back to Major Redwood’s sales pitch and the urgency of finding the weapons at any cost. And quickly.
“In which case, we got to check it out.” He added knowing the directors thinking and determination to have a success.
“Correct Captain, and we have to act fast.” The director went on, relief in her voice that the team leader agreed. “For all we know the weapons could be there, stockpiled and hidden. Or if they were, there will be evidence of such.”
“If they are there, they won't be alone. There could be an entire army of fighters in those buildings too.” Hawkins stated. Clarke looked at him, unsure if it was excitement or a warning in the young man's voice. Either way, Hawkins seemed to have come around quickly to the idea of Ahmed being truthful about the weapons location. The sudden change of mind of the solider reminded Clarke of his recklessness during the assault. Rushing through the door and not following Clarke’s formation orders. He made a mental note to pull the man to one side later for a career talk.
“Indeed. So, the mission is reconnaissan
ce. I want eyes on that village. From every angle. Anything moves I want to know about it. If it looks deserted when you get there, go in and recon the buildings. Look for any evidence the weapons were there. Anything at all.”
She tapped the screen of the monitor again. “Three teams, three views. I want alpha here,” she ordered as she tapped the southeast part of the village where a cluster of rocks made a good observation point. “Close to the outskirts with eyes on the buildings. Charlie team here. The eastern part of the village outskirts.” She looked at Clarke. “Bravo, you get a rest after today’s assault.” She indicated to the top of the large hill. “Overwatch on the whole village. You’ll get a nice view of the entire area from up there. Once your all in position, maintain a constant watch on the location. I’ll put a QRF together from the marines based at BIAP. If there are fighters there, call it in and we can hit it hard and fast with the full weight of the coalition’s military.” She nodded at Clarke to confirm he understood and agreed.
“If not, and it looks deserted. Then alpha and charlie will go in for a closer look. Recon the buildings, look for any evidence that either weapons or fighters were there. Anything at all of interest to our mission. Bravo, you will maintain overwatch on the area whilst the others search the buildings. Keep them covered and protected. Take a satcom radio so you can maintain contact with me.”
She took a deep breath and faced the group. “This could all be for nothing. But it's the best we have to go on.” Her voice wasn’t as cold now. It had changed back to the usual managerial tone she operated with. She looked at the group of men, still dirty and fatigued from the operation so far.
“Apologies gentleman, but there will be no time for rest just yet. Command wants us on this immediately. There will be a formal briefing in ten minutes for the whole task force. Helicopters are already on the way from BIAP and you’ll be airborne in just over an hour.” She looked at Hawkins’ now empty plate and gave a soft smile. “You’ll be dropped ten kilometres from the target so they don’t hear you coming. So, get ready for a nice walk in the countryside gentleman.” She turned and walked off towards her office whilst adding, “best all get some food inside you ready for the day ahead.”
