Mark R. Donahue
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$TAT$

$TAT$
by Mark Donahue
Prologue
 Iraq Desert-April 2009

            A lone modified Blackhawk MH-X utilized its newly developed stealth capability and hovered virtually unheard two hundred feet above, and one mile south of its objective. The green images in the distance seen through night vision goggles by its Navy pilots, made the objective stand out like a glowing Christmas tree in an otherwise drab desert background.

            The yellow-pink glow in the eastern sky foretold of a sunrise only minutes away. If the weeks of reconnaissance proved accurate and schedules were kept, the targets within the objective would be taken outside by six guards just after dawn to use the crude bathroom facilities dug into the dirt, and would then be doused with cold well water from wooden buckets several times that would serve as their weekly shower.

            In the back of the Blackhawk, a heavily armed combined Navy Special Ops and SEAL Team 3 sat quietly, and relatively placidly, as they stared straight ahead, and awaited word from the chopper pilots to initiate their well-rehearsed and meticulously planned operation. One of the SEALs chewed what seemed to be at least three pieces of Juicy Fruit gum, while the man next to him moved his leg up and down like a piston. A third SEAL had a grin on his face.

            The goal was straight forward; rescue the two American Congressmen who had survived an IED attack on their convoy that had killed four others before the legislators were murdered by their relatively unknown, but particularly vicious, Islamic captors.

            The Congressmen had been on a fact-finding mission in Iraq to determine the “truth” about America’s continued involvement in the never ending Iraq War and a requested increase in financial resources to further the effort with more troops and equipment.

            Among the many facts they discovered was that Iraq was a very dangerous place to be. The men had been taken hostage weeks earlier and held for ransom by a splinter group that had been formed by a dangerous melding of Syrian, Iraqi and Afghani forces. By policy, America would not pay a ransom. 

            Undeterred, the group had eagerly, and with surprising production quality, posted videos of the capture of the two men and promised they would be placed in metal cages, have gasoline poured on them, and then lit to be burned alive in HD living color for all the world to see on the Internet.

            The sight and sound of the infidels being consumed in flame would serve as important propaganda fodder for the terrorists in their world-wide recruiting efforts. In addition, the event would serve notice to other American forces, politicians, and journalists as to what their fate would be if captured by the Islamic radicals. The online video event was scheduled to be broadcast world-wide within the next 24 hours.

            Six minutes after sunrise, a grainy satellite image of the two Americans and six guards appeared on the computer screen on the Blackhawk’s dashboard panel. The chopper crew removed their night vision goggles and now relied on what they could see in real time on their screens.

            The two Congressmen seen on the screens were naked and had their hands and ankles tied with nylon bands as they shuffled through the dirt to the toilet holes under the control of six armed guards. They were twenty yards outside a group of block buildings that served as an ISIS holding location. “We have a visual.” The chopper pilot said. “We are moving in. Descending to thirty feet. A.O., you hang back in case things go to shit.”

            A.O. responded, “Roger that.”

            As the chopper descended, the rest of the team prepared to exit the chopper using braided ropes that were tossed out the sliding doors of the Blackhawk. “Go.” The pilot said.

            Within eight seconds the well-armed team of seven had exited the chopper and sprinted toward the largest of the buildings that was enclosed behind a ten foot high chain link fence topped with razor wire.

            The plan called for the team to surround the perimeter of the buildings in groups of two, two, two and one and use wire cutters to silently gain access to the inside of the complex.

            Once inside they would surprise, and then eliminate the ISIS guards as they ate their breakfast. After the guards were neutralized, the good guys would find and extricate the Congressmen, board the chopper, and return to base before 7 AM. It was a simple and logical plan prepared by the best military minds on the planet.

            The plan didn’t work.

            Instead of having their breakfast inside like they were supposed to, the guards remained scattered on the outside of the four small buildings. They had concluded as a group it would be far more entertaining, in addition to being a morale boosting exercise, to beat the hell out of the two Americans for a while before their morning meal. The beating would not be for the purpose of gathering information or as punishment, but rather, just for fun. Something that would get the day off to a rousing start.

            One of the naked Americans from South Florida was led blindfolded to the center of a dirt enclosure and forced to his knees and told to put his forehead on the dirt. Three laughing guards then took turns each kicking him in the head like his skull was a soccer ball. In Arabic one of the men yelled “goal” after a particularly savage blow that left the Congressman unconscious. The rest of the men laughed at the clever and witty football reference.

            The second man had been tied to a metal post in the yard while the three other guards took turns lashing him with belts that left over a dozen deep red gashes in his skin. As the six guards continued their pre-breakfast entertainment in two different locations within the dirt enclosure, the seven American forces who had entered the compound using wire cutters, were out of visual range of what was happening to the Congressmen inside the small courtyard that was hidden amongst the four block buildings.

          Once the chopper pilots could see, via the satellite images, what was happening to the Congressmen, they immediately radioed for the ground forces to move quickly toward the area where the beatings were taking place.

            But then a surprise; an additional five armed guards rushed out of one of the buildings after they had spotted the American intruders inside the fence line. They immediately began to fire on the seven American troops who had come together as a group after they had entered the complex and were now pinned behind a low stone wall.

            “Fuck, we have a shit storm brewing down there. They have more guards than we thought.” The chopper co-pilot said. “A.O. you locked and loaded?”

            “Roger that.” A.O. said calmly.

            “We’re gonna move in. Can you get a visual?”

            “Do a ninety and keep it steady.” A.O. said.

            As the chopper moved into position, two guards, seeing the situation that was unfolding in front of them, ran toward the tied up Congressmen with swords. Their intent was to behead both men and save their heads and maintain at least part of their planned home video presentation. As they neared the helpless Ohio representative, one, then the other terrorist, were flattened by single bullets to their chests with resounding “whomps.”

            Having seen their two comrades fall the remaining four in the courtyard grabbed their rifles and turned their full attention to the hovering chopper that was now in hearing distance only a quarter mile away. They began to fire at the chopper and metallic “pings” could be heard inside the heavily armored Blackhawk.
The second group of five insurgents continued to hold the seven Americans at bay who remained pinned behind the low concrete wall that was becoming lower and thinner with each rifle blast by the insurgent fighters.

                 “We’re taking incoming. We need to back away.” The chopper pilot said.

                  “Copy.” A.O. said. “Just keep it steady.”

             As the chopper moved higher and further from harm’s way, A.O. took aim at the group of five holding down the seven good guys and one-by-one picked them off with deadly accurate efficiency. Despite the higher altitude and distance, A.O. did not miss. Not once. After the five were dispatched in less than a minute, the seven American troops on the ground rose from behind the low wall and within minutes had cut down the remaining group of four insurgents in the courtyard.

            Three of the seven SEALs freed the Congressmen and guided them toward the chopper. The remaining four went building-by-building and searched for more insurgent members trying to determine if there was any valuable intelligence inside the compound buildings.
They found no more fighters, but took 5 computers, assorted files, and computer drives. They also set several timed C-4 charges that would level the buildings soon after their departure. Within ten minutes they were all safely back on the chopper in the same seats they had occupied before. They called them their lucky seats.

         On the forty minute ride back to base, there was little conversation except when the naked Congressmen now covered with blankets kept thanking their rescuers. “We were dead men. Thank you guys. We never knew it was like this. We never knew, I mean how could we know what you guys have to deal with?”

               “You should thank A.O. over there.” One of SEALs pointed out.

             “Thank you A.O. You saved our lives. That was unbelievable what you did.” The Congressman from Florida said emotionally.

               “That sailor saved all our lives Congressman, not just yours.”

              A.O. did not respond to the gratitude and instead stared out the window of the chopper at miles of endless brown desert.

​
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  • Mark Donahue
    • Author
    • Athlete >
      • Baseball
      • Basketball
    • Executive
    • Producer
    • On Air
    • In Print
  • The Novels Sneak Peaks
    • Last At Bat Chapter 1
    • STAT$ Chapter 1
    • Golden Reich Prologue
    • Fat Girl Prologue
    • Answer Man Prologue
  • The Stories
    • Last at Bat
    • Stat$
    • Golden Reich
    • Fat Girl
    • Answer Man
    • Second Serve
    • Call Me Jesse
    • New York Dirt
    • Unsolicited
    • War College
    • The Farm
  • The Trailers
    • Last At Bat
    • Fat Girl
    • Golden Reich
    • Answer Man
    • Second Serve
    • Call Me Jesse
    • STAT$
    • New York Dirt
    • War College
    • Unsolicited
    • The Farm