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Authors: David Poyer

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BOOK: Black Storm
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The five of them were bunked together in the same tent. It smelled old, like it was from the Civil War. There wasn't any heat except for a kerosene stove that stank so bad they did without it. As long as it was dry you didn't need a stove in this weather. It was when you got wet that it felt cold. Zeitner and the gunny were over at the blockhouse. Blaze looked at the Glock again, spun it around his finger.

“Put it away,” said F.C. again, and this time there wasn't any funning in his voice. Blaze quickly stuffed it back to the bottom of his duffel, down where they wouldn't find it if there was an inspection.

 

IT SEEMED
like he'd just got to sleep when somebody stuck his head into the tent. The armorer told them to get dressed and get over to the blockhouse. That was all, but something in his voice got them moving. He stuffed the Glock, unloaded, down into his back pocket, just so it didn't walk off while they were out.

Gunny Gault stood waiting in the blockhouse. The lights were sort of half off, half on. Blaze looked around, saw they were all there. The attachments, the light colonel from First SRIG, the girl doc. Boxes of MREs and ammo and Al-Ghadir bottled water were stacked against the wall. He started to get a creepy feeling. The gunny stood waiting till everybody was in and the door was closed. Then he said, “We have a go order on Signal Mirror.”

“Same mission?” said Zeitner.

Paulik said, “Correct. I took it to Higher and it came back confirmed. For tonight.”

Gault checked his watch. “I want to move out no later than twenty hundred. That means we got a lot to do before we emplane. First stop's medical. There's a Humvee outside. Major Maddox will take you over to the medical tent.”

They rode over and got two shots, one in each arm. He asked what they were, and one of the corpsmen said for botulinum toxin. They each got a card of little white pills that were supposed to help protect you against nerve gas. They had to take them three times a day, eight hours apart, starting now. The first one was so bitter he could hardly swallow it.

 

AT
1400 the team filed back in. All the lights were on now. They sat down on the concrete and took out their notebooks. Zeitner was taping up a map of western Iraq, and another large square of taped-together 1:25,000's. A city, it looked like. Blaze went up to it: Baghdad. He figured this would be map drill again, where they went over their route until they could all draw it in their sleep. He was still sleepy, though now he was getting nervous too. The sand table was off in the corner. Zeitner and Vertierra had built it, showing the terrain from the LZ to the meet-up point. Usually in mission planning they had some kind of visual aid to plan what they'd do at the objective. This time, nobody seemed to know what or where the objective was.

Gault came in, carrying a clipboard, with Lenson and Maddox behind him and two aviators in flight suits. The pilots sat down in the back of the room. Gault roll-called the team. Everybody answered up and he went down the front handing out copies of the patrol order. Blaze looked it over, already knowing pretty much what it would say, because they'd been working on it since they got here.

The gunny started off, “This order and this briefing are secret. Don't discuss it with anyone outside the team. Okay, the Laws of Patrolling. Law One.”

“Always look cool,” they yelled, all together.

“Law number two.”

“Never get lost.”

“Law number three.”

They shouted gleefully, “If you get lost, remember to look cool.”

“All right. Patrol number UAT-12 is go. This'll be our prepatrol brief, and we'll follow it with patrol inspection at eighteen hundred.”

First briefer up was an air force meteorologist. He described the weather over central Iraq as overcast, temperatures cold, possible sandstorms, winds from the north at between ten and twenty knots.

When the meteorologist was gone, Gault began on the patrol order. “We can expect enemy forces in this area, but specifics are missing. As we approach Baghdad we can expect heavier concentrations of enemy troops and population. Essentially Saddam has mobilized and armed every male of military age, at least those of ethnic groups he trusts.

“UAT-12 will patrol from this designated grid square on into contact with a reportedly friendly element. From there we will transition into a point reconnaissance mission. Special Forces and British SAS teams are operating west of LZ Lisa. After we leave the LZ heading east, any patrols encountered will be assumed to be enemy.

“Supporting fires: two A-10s on strip alert out of Al Jouf. Fire to be requested in emergencies only.

“Transportation: Det One of HCS-4 will provide initial lift into LZ Lisa. That will be Commander Jabo and Lieutenant Commander Lemoyne.” The pilots raised their hands in lazy greeting. “They will also provide post-mission extract. There will be no guaranteed extract available east of Majarrah. All requests for support or extract will be passed through HF.

“There will be two attachments to the team: Commander Lenson and Major Maddox.”

Blaze looked around, startled. No one said anything, but he saw Nichols looking too. The doc stood in the back, arms folded. She didn't say anything, or return their stares.

Holy shit, he thought. This is too much. We got to drag
her
along?

“All right, mission,” Gault went on. He read the next part slowly, because they all had to memorize it. “UAT-12 will establish and report geographic location of a possible nuclear or biological site in western Baghdad. Mission has priority…everyone got that? Blaze?”

He blinked, still thinking about the major, managed to get it back. “Uh…establish and report geographic location of a possible nuclear or biological site in western Baghdad. Mission has priority.”

“Okay, Sergeant Zeitner will brief on execution.”

Zeitner took over, sounding with his upstate accent like a cross of New Yorker and hillbilly, Blaze thought. He did the commander's intent and then they went to the terrain model.

“On order, Team Twelve will depart from friendly lines and load into aircraft along the pipeline road east of the base. We'll insert at primary insert point LZ Lisa and execute information turnover with SAS Team Charlie Two. Secondary insert point is at LZ Charlotte. After departure of aircraft, the team will move south seven hundred meters to clear the LZ, then turn east and move overland using cover as possible to rendezvous with friendly asset “Samir” at road junction at grid location Lima Bravo 710390. Identification will be a green cloth signal.

“The asset will escort us to the objective. Frag orders will cover movement to the final objective and action on the objective. Upon completion of observation, team will egress and move southwest in the direction of the Euphrates River, locate a secure area, and set up a comm
site. After sending a SPOTREP to Higher we'll move west across the Euphrates in the direction of Lake Razzazah to extraction on D+2 at position Lima Bravo 300710, west of two pylons at the shoreline.

“Subunit tasks. We will be divided into two elements: recon and security. The recon element will be led by Gunnery Sergeant Gault and will consist of Gunny Gault, Commander Lenson, and Major Maddox. The recon element will be responsible for photographing, sketching, testing, sampling, and recording all information at the objective. The security element will be broken down into two security teams. Security Team One will consist of Sergeant Zeitner and Lance Corporal Nichols. Security Team Two will consist of Sergeant Vertierra and Corporal Blaisell. Team One and Two will be posted by means of frag orders at the objective, warning the recon element of any enemy movement in the area.”

Gault said, “Commander, do you have a handle on the CCIRs?”

Lenson stood, looking ill at ease. He said, “Map coordinates; type of target; targeting data; any NBC indications. Covering forces; nearby civilian installations and centers of population.”

Gault took over again, and they went through security during movement, what each individual had to do—for himself Blaze circled
Security at point, steady rate of movement, best route, danger area,
and
minefields.
The gunny emphasized that everyone was responsible for security, observation of enemy presence and movement, maintaining concealment, and sterilizing the area after halts or hides. Each team member had to know their location and route at all times, in case of unexpected contact. “We've walked through the SOPs for immediate action drills, halts, formations, and danger areas,” the team leader said, but, as Blaze was afraid he would, he went over them all again, and then went into actions on enemy contact, at the objective, and at the extract point.

“Most of the time we'll move as a Ranger file. The
only way a column works is communication. Keep positive eye contact with the man in front and to your rear. Pass all signals quickly and accurately. The order of movement will be Blaisell, Nichols, Gault, Vertierra, Lenson, Maddox, and Zeitner. If we anticipate enemy contact I may go to a wedge by night or to traveling overwatch if we have to move during the day.

“I'll designate rally points every thousand meters, or when I notice a feature we can see some distance away. When that information comes down the line, repeat it to the man who gives it to you until he's certain you have it right. Then pass it to the man behind you and make him repeat it till it's letter-perfect.

“Danger areas: we'll do one-man bumps across roads, streams, and other danger areas. Mr. Lenson, remember the one-man bump?”

“Uh—hand signal for danger area; point man moves up; number two up beside him, right shoulder to danger area; number one sprints across to cover; number three moves up, then number two goes, till the last man's across.”

Blaze sat hunched forward, thinking again about the woman, taking her with them. The navy dude was bad enough, but she was going to be dead weight. They'd end up carrying her. “This is fucked, man,” he mouthed to Vertierra. The Mexican, or whatever the hell he was, just looked back at him, as usual not saying anything at all.

“Comment, Corporal Blaisell?”

“No, Gunnery Sergeant.”

“Lieutenant Colonel Paulik.”

Paulik told them that once they were in Baghdad there wouldn't be any extract. In case of compromise they should try to blend in with the population. Blaze caught F.C.'s eyeroll at this one and grinned back,
Yeah right!
He was laughing, but inside he was starting to get scared. It was sinking in. Another option, Paulik was saying now, was to escape and evade back toward Syria or Turkey via a series of predetermined rendezvous points. The Iranian
border was closer to Baghdad, but he didn't recommend going to Iran.

Finally Paulik was done and the gunny said, “We got another briefer coming in, but before that, any questions for me?”

Nichols raised a hand.

“F.C.?”

“We dippin' on this one, Gunny?”

“No tobacco, F.C. Smokeless or otherwise.”

“That sucks, Gunny.”

“If it don't suck, it ain't discipline. Anything else?”

Surprising himself, Blaze stuck his hand up. When Gault nodded, he said, “I heard on the radio this morning the top ragheads were going to Moscow, the Russians got a peace proposal going. What if we go in and they all of a sudden call the fucking war off?”

“Good question, Corporal. Sir, you got an answer to that?”

Paulik looked grim. “I don't think that'll happen. Now that our heavy forces are deployed, this is our chance to destroy Saddam's ability to make war. But even if it does, it won't make any difference to this mission. Whichever way the big blue arrow points, Higher wants an answer on this one.”

Gault said, “That answer you, Corporal? Okay, next up is Doctor Maddox.”

He watched her tits jiggle under the cammies as she stood. A little old for him, but just knowing there were sweet little peaches under there was nice. So at first he was staring at her chest, not really tuned in. Then, just as he was getting hard, imagining what it'd be like, what she was saying started to penetrate. About the symbols for hazard-infectious areas, what they looked like. What not to touch, what not to do. Maybe she caught him staring at her jugs, because she pointed at him then, ordered him front and center for a gear demonstration.

The chemical protective overgarment was like heavy fatigues, only lined inside with charcoal. They didn't
have desert pattern, only the woodlands pattern made for Europe. When he had them on, she told him, “Okay, now your mask.” He showed her how fast he could don, a quickdraw from the pouch, heeling it to his face and snapping on the straps. Thank Christ, this time he had it.

But then she took out the tape. Regular silvery duct tape, like from a True Value. Using him like a dummy, she showed them how to tape the mask to the parka hood. The others squatted, watching as she gradually transformed him into a fucking moon man. Meanwhile he was getting freaked inside the mask. He started to feel dizzy again, like in the shelter trench. He tried to adjust it, wondering if the canister was actually working, but she pulled his hands down and started taping his gloves to his sleeves. The lady liked duct tape. Hey, maybe they could do a party. Bondage and discipline like in a
Hustler
layout. Nichols was grinning at him. “Stupid redneck,” he muttered into the diaphragm, low, so all that came out was a buzz. “What was that?” she said, and he didn't answer, just grinned to himself. He was cool now. Deep breaths. Better.

When he finally got to untape, Gault gave them all a piss break, but got them right back in. The gunny kept looking at his watch.

An army engineer type unrolled another map, but this one wasn't military, or even a terrain map. It showed the Baghdad drain-and-sewer system.

Baghdad, he told them, had been one of the first cities in the world with underground drainage. There might be Ottoman-and British-era sewers and drains close to the river and even some from ancient times. A Finnish company had redesigned the system in 1980, entunneling the old wadi outlets and trunking neighborhood sewers together into large concrete-lined runs. Blaze stared in disbelief at red lines, blue lines, dotted lines, little elevation call-outs. The engineer cautioned that Egyptian and Pakistani contractors had actually carried out the plan, so what they found underground would probably differ from the map.

BOOK: Black Storm
9.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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