by John O'Brien
I see Gonzalez kneeling by a body on the floor with her hand on its shoulder. I barely make out her whisper, “Oh, dear, papa.” McCafferty has her hand on Gonzalez’ shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” I hear her say.
I hear the sound of approaching vehicles outside just before Horace comes on the radio, “Sir, we have company and lots of it coming this way.”
“Make sure everyone is in covering positions. Keep the guns manned. I’ll be right out. Henderson, Denton, you’re with me outside,” I radio seeing that the situation inside has stabilized to a certain degree.
“On the way, sir,” Henderson replies. I hear their boots on the kitchen floor as they make their way back to the living room.
“Will do, sir,” Horace answers.
I reach over and tell McCafferty, “Stay with her. Make sure she’s okay.” McCafferty turns and nods.
I head out to the porch with Henderson and Denton. Standing on the edge, I look west and see two convertible cars parked door to door blocking the street entirely and surrounded by a multitude of people. Three men are standing in front of the cars holding weapons in one hand with the barrels resting on their shoulders; their other hands shielding their eyes. A glint flashes from the windshields of the cars from the sunlight. At least we have the advantage of the sun, I think. It’s hard to tell from this distance but the men all appear to be darker skinned. I’m not sure if it’s because they are deeply tanned or Hispanic. The others in the large group have taken cover and are aiming weapons in our general vicinity.
I walk to the rear of the angled Humvee where Horace has taken cover. The heat of the day has increased to a marked degree despite our only having been inside a short time. It takes my eyes time to adjust from the dark interior to the brightness outside. An intersection sits between our two groups and I can see a little ways down the cross streets that have intersecting alleyways. Several people take positions at the corners of houses near the alleys in flanking positions.
“Henderson, Denton, grab the 110’s and take cover. I want the flankers taken out on my call,” I say.
“Hooah, sir,” they respond. The hatch of the Humvee swings open and they retrieve their snipers before heading to opposite sides of the street to take positions.
I tap Horace on the shoulder, “If they have flankers, they’ll have others circling around behind us. Make sure the other Humvee gun covers our rear.” Horace quickly trots over to the other angled Humvee, talks a moment with the soldier on top, and returns. Sure enough, I hear the sound of vehicles moving along side streets to our right heading past us.
“McCafferty, Jack here,” I say.
“Go ahead, sir,” I hear her reply.
“I hate to do this but we have a situation here and I need you two to cover the back. Stay inside but make sure no one gets the drop on us from the side,” I say.
“Roger that, sir.”
Two cars pull onto the road and park behind us a block and a half away obstructing the road in that direction. A small number of people get out and take cover around the vehicles. Although concerned because our covering positions are more exposed to this new threat, I’m not overly worried. They have chosen positions close to the vehicles and they’ve obviously never seen what an M-240 can do — I make a mental note to bring a. 50 cal Humvee as well next time. If this does come down to an exchange, they’ll be running for their lives in short order. It’s the ones I don’t see that concern me. They obviously know how to flank. They also have the advantage of numbers and better knowledge of the area. I think about pulling Gonzalez out with me so I can use her knowledge but she just lost her father, at least I’m assuming from what I saw that it was her father on the ground.
The Humvees parked at angles across the street create a small alcove of protection in front of Gonzalez’ house. I walk into our circle of cover to the Humvee, open the door, and turn the radio on.
“Greg, this is Jack, over,” I say pressing the mic. Yeah, I would use call signs but seriously, who else is on this freq named Greg and Jack.
A moment passes. “Jack, this is Greg, go ahead,” he responds.
“We have a bit of a situation here. We’re surrounded by a large group of about thirty. Their intentions are unknown at this time. Find a vehicle and being your team in,” I say giving directions.
“Do you want everyone? Robert? Bri?” Greg asks.
I think about it for a moment. Bringing Echo Team in would leave Robert and Bri alone with three armed people we just met. As uncomfortable as I am with bringing them in, I’m even more uncomfortable leaving them with folks I’ve known for less than a day.
“Yeah, bring everyone,” I answer. “Come up from the west side. That way we’ll have the larger group encircled.”
“We’ll be on the way shortly, Jack. Call you when we’re close on the tac freq,” Greg says.
“Copy that. I wouldn’t be overly upset if you hurried,” I say.
“We’ll do that. Greg, out,” he says ending the call with a burst of static.
I walk back to Horace who is peering around the corner of the Humvee. Looking down the street, I see nothing much has changed. The three men are obviously having a discussion. We’ve had this standoff for a little bit and I am surprised words haven’t been exchanged as yet. At least it hasn’t been an exchange of steel greetings.
“Greg will be on his way with Echo Team shortly. We’ll need to stall this until he gets here,” I say.
I wait a several moments sizing up the situation more. “So, let’s see what we have here,” I finally say stepping from the cover of the vehicle.
With my M-4 cradled in my arms, I walk a few feet from the Humvee and stand in the middle of the road. I feel the heat rising from the sand-covered pavement. The clouds continue to billow above covering more of the sky. Sand has been piled up along the curbs on one side of the street. One of the men brings his gun off his shoulder, cradles it, and steps out in front of his group. His white, sleeveless T-shirt contrasts with his dark brown skin.
“You’re not welcome here, Gringo,” the man calls out. That pretty much settles the heritage question.
“We’re just looking for a family member. We look and then we’ll be out of here,” I respond.
“Ain’t nothin’ but one of those things in there,” he shouts.
“Not anymore,” I reply.
“Then you can leave but we’ll be taking your vehicles,” he yells back.
“Yeah, ya know, I don’t think that’s going to happen,” I respond.
I hear him and the other two men laugh. “Then you won’t be leaving but we’ll still be taking the vehicles and everything else,” he replies still laughing.
I look to the sky and then back at him. “I suppose it’s as good a day to die as any other. I hope you feel the same way,” I say bringing an instant end to his laughter. “I strongly suggest you pull back.”
“You don’t scare me,” he growls loudly. “This is my turf.”
“It wasn’t my intention to scare you, just merely making a suggestion,” I say replying and hoping the fuck Greg is close. This has the potential of getting ugly really quick. Of course I’m not helping the situation but any sign of weakness might cause them to strike. By acting the tough guy like he is and doing it calmly is making him think twice about attacking us. It’s like we know something he doesn’t. I’m sure the M-240, multiple M-4’s and two sniper rifles pointed his direction helps.
“McCafferty, anything your way?” I ask.
“Nothing here, sir,” she answers.
“It’s about to escalate out here and we need the both of you out front,” I say.
“On our way,” she says.
“Jack, Greg here. We’re closing in on your position,” I hear over the radio.
I feel my tension ease a touch with his call which really couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Greg, park a distance away so you’re not heard and make your way on foot from the west. You’ll see the group once you get
on the road. Advance and set up covering positions to their rear. Leave the civilians with the vehicles,” I say.
“What about Robert and Bri?” Greg asks. Again, that leaving them with strangers thing but this is different. There is a real chance of bullets filling the air around us.
“Leave them with the vehicles as well,” I answer.
“Copy that, Jack.” I glimpse Echo Team in the distance past the group. They advance up the opposite sides of the street and deploy. I feel a little better about our chances to walk away from this. Still, I’d rather not get into an exchange. There are just too many variables when steel starts filling the air; ricochets, the lucky shot, the rounds marked “To Whom It May Concern.” With my being out in the open and exposed, I’m sure there are quite a few weapons trained on me. Even though it’s warm and humid out, I’m still not all that interested in becoming ventilated.
“Rosa?” I hear a young female voice call from the group behind the men in front. “Roooooosa!”
All eyes turn toward the voice and the crowd steps to the side as a girl in her mid-teens steps out in front.
“Isabella?” I hear Gonzalez call out questioning.
Gonzalez streaks by me heading down the street holding her M-4 by her side. The young girl takes off running in our direction. This new situation has captured the attention of everyone on both sides. Time stand still as the two meet at the intersection. Gonzalez goes to her knees and the two meet in an embrace. I see Gonzalez look up at the opposing group.
“Miguel? Is that you?” Gonzalez calls out.
“Rosa?” The man calls out questioning.
“Shit, Miguel, what the fuck are you doing? Put your damned gun away,” Gonzalez says.
The man turns to the group and calls out something in what I assume to be Spanish. Guns are lowered. “Stand down but keep alert,” I say into the radio.
I walk to where Gonzalez has risen with her arm around the young girl. “Rosa, huh?” I ask.
“Yes, sir, and this is Isabella, my sister,” Gonzalez answers with a single tear marking her face.
Isabella looks to be about Bri’s age. The other man reaches our position still eyeing me with suspicion which I gladly return. After all, we came very close to having a firefight and the adrenaline has not entirely dissipated.
“Sir, this is Miguel, one of my brother’s friends,” Gonzalez says. My immediate thought is that Miguel is a gang member with Gonzalez having shared a very brief history of her family. She must have observed that written on my face. “Miguel is not part of the gangs that used to roam here. He actually tried to keep the streets safe. At least he used to,” she adds looking poignantly at Miguel.
We both tentatively reach our hands out to shake. “Jack,” I say as our hands maintain a firm grip. Yeah, there’s still a little bit of a pissing contest going on. “What do you say we at least stand our people down before something stupid happens?”
“I still don’t trust you but because Rosa is here with you, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Miguel says.
“Well, I’m not about to hand you the other half of a BFF necklace either,” I respond.
Miguel chuckles and turns to shout something to his group. I call and tell the others to truly stand down and for Greg to bring the vehicles up. Miguel sees Echo Team emerge into the streets behind his group and turns to look at me sharply. I merely shrug.
“Where’s Mama?” I hear Gonzalez ask Isabella.
“She’s back where we’re staying,” Isabella answers. I see Gonzalez sweep Isabella up in another hug.
Red Team gathers around Gonzalez and her sister offering condolences. I walk over to McCafferty and lead her away from the group.
“Take Red Team and see to Gonzalez’ father in whatever manner she wants,” I say.
“Will do, sir,” McCafferty replies.
“Let the rest of us know when you’re ready so we can all give him a decent send off,” I say looking up at the clouds billowing higher. Their bottoms have become dark and are about to vanquish the sun. We don’t have much longer before they turn ugly.
“And make it as quick as you can. I want to be back at the base before the storms hit,” I continue pointing at the storms gathering overhead. McCafferty nods and heads back to the team. Gonzalez tells Isabella to remain and they head into the house. I turn back to Miguel.
“Look, why don’t we throw all of this macho bullshit aside and chat some?” I say.
“I was just trying to protect my people, man. It hasn’t been easy for us here. There have been gangs, marauders, and those things around. Supplies are running low as well,” he replies.
“As was I. I totally get it. How many in your group?”
“We have forty-three in all,” Miguel answers.
“Look, it’ll be cramped but you and your group are welcome to join us,” I say and describe our layout, our plan to head down to Lubbock in the morning, head to Albuquerque to possibly pick up another group, and head home.
“I’ll talk it over with the others,” he responds when I finish and he heads back to the parked cars.
The wind picks up again whipping against our clothing as we lay Gonzalez’ father to rest in the back yard. The grit picked up by the winds peppers our bare skin. Gonzalez and Isabella say their last goodbyes before the ceremony breaks up and we meander back to the vehicles. Miguel informs me that they would like to come along with us as there is nothing here for them. He lets me know it’s a temporary thing based on how his people are treated. I tell him everyone is treated equally and that he’s free to go at any time. I also let him know that we won’t be able to fly them back here as our times of being able to fly anywhere is drawing quickly to a close. Deteriorating fuel conditions will see to that. With that, we proceed back to the base with Miguel agreeing to meet us the following morning.
Back at the base, Robert pulls me aside. “Dad, why did you have Bri and I stay behind with the vehicles?” He asks.
“Because you were the only two who could fly the aircraft out if something happened,” I answer knowing that’s not totally the real reason but it’s the one I decide to give.
“I’m raising the bullshit flag on that one,” he says.
“Okay, look, I’m torn. It’s something you’ll understand when you’re a dad. There’s the balance of keeping you safe, letting you learn, and allowing you to be grown up. I don’t always make the right decisions and am torn each time I am confronted with it. You, Bri, and Lynn are the only reasons I keep pushing on. If something were to happen to you, I’d be lost,” I say.
“I get that, Dad, but I’m as old as some of the soldiers you let go,” Robert replies.
“Yeah, but they are not my son, or daughter for that matter. Look, you’re going to have to trust me on this one. If you’re with me, and I mean right next to me, then I feel better for some reason,” I respond.
“Dad, I have to learn and you have to learn to let go some. I get it with Bri, she’s only fifteen but I’m not,” Robert says.
“Okay, I get that. It’s just not easy. So here’s the deal, whenever I head out with Red Team, you can go with me. There will be times when that’s not true but I’ll try to make that happen. I know I said that earlier but losing Nic was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through and I don’t want to ever experience that again. It hasn’t left me for a moment and it won’t,” I say.
“I know, Dad. I think about her every day,” Robert says.
“Okay, I promise to try and keep the protective nature in check. We good?” I ask.
“Yeah, Dad, we’re good,” he answers.
We gather to discuss our next steps. “We’ll fuel up the Humvees and drive down to Lubbock in the morning to search for McCafferty’s family,” I say. “It’s only about 100 miles away so it should only take us two to three hours each way depending on how clear the roads are and what we run into. That will give us about three hours to search giving us a little leeway on time should anything happen. We need
to be back before dark for obvious reasons. I think we’ll take all three teams considering what we ran into today.”
“So you’re planning to leave the aircraft and our supplies unguarded?” Greg asks.
“I really don’t see any other way. We could fly down to Lubbock but this weather creates an unknown,” I answer.
“Do you trust this Miguel guy?” Horace asks looking at Gonzalez.
“I haven’t seen him in a long time. He is a little rough around the edges but I think he means well, so, yes, I trust him,” Gonzalez answers.
“Good enough for me,” Horace says to which we all nod.
“Well, it’s not like he’s going to take the aircraft and we can always resupply,” I add.
“What about refueling the aircraft?” Robert asks.
I look up to the darkening sky. “Let’s do that on our return or the next day. These storms look like they could start giving us a light show any time. I’d rather we weren’t in the midst of refueling with JP-4 with lightning flashing around us. That’s a recipe for creating an entirely new crater in New Mexico.”
“Gotcha,” Robert responds.
“So, refuel the Humvees in the morning, head to Lubbock, return to refuel the 130’s then or the next morning, leave for Albuquerque the day after, and head home. We’ll be flying the 130 and an AC-130 back. We’ll need to visit the armory here and load the AC-130 up with ammo at some point. Any questions?” I ask. Everyone shakes their heads and we break up.
“Robert, take Bri and Echo Team and see if you can locate an AC-130 that’s fueled. See if you can find the maintenance books as well and bring them back. I’d hate to try and leave in an aircraft that’s been grounded for maintenance. That kind of thing makes for a very short flight and a structural integrity check at the end,” I say.
“Structural integrity check?” He asks.
“Yeah. It’s a check to see if the aircraft remains intact when it collides with the ground at a high rate of speed,” I answer.
“Yeah, let’s avoid that,” Robert says and they depart across the ramp.
Blue Team is stationed at intervals on the ramp with the Humvees. I look over to see Gonzalez sitting alone on the ramp; the wind, as it blows by, whips her short, dark hair. She is staring into the distance with her arms wrapped around her knees. I would have expected Isabella to be glued to her but I don’t see her little sister anywhere.
