Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 4
A/N1: Warning – if you're not familiar with the tactics of ISIS, this chapter may shock you.
A/N2: Daesh – Arabic term for ISIS
? Local_? Zulu
USS Ronald Reagan
Persian Gulf
Bud and Mac watched as Harm continue to wheel through the sky. "What do you think, ma'am?"
"I think I'm crazy, Bud." He looked at her and smiled at Brigadier General's nervousness.
They both looked up when the F-18 roared high overhead in wide arc. Now even other pilots and plane crews were pointing and watching.
"You owe me, Flyboy," she muttered under her breath as she watched Harm doing Immelman turns in the clear blue spring sky.
Bud's parent-radar ears heard her muttered comment despite the noise on the deck. "Ma'am?"
Mac shook her head. "Nothing Bud…just thinking out loud."
Bud looked up at the fighter which was now doing another slow downward spiral. He sure hoped whoever Harm was punishing would be able to fly after this.
"I wouldn't worry, Ma'am. I don't think he would do anything like that to you," Bud said trying to reassure her in his own way.
"He'd better not if he knows what is good for him…" She softened the anger in that statement by smiling sweetly at Bud
The JAGC Commander nodded soberly. "Understood, ma'am. And I bet he understands that too."
? Local_?Zulu
US Consulate
Irbil, Kurdistan
Saddiyah T'lass shifted in the plastic chair she had been sitting in for the past three hours. Her adopted mother, Izdihar, was in another room talking with a Consulate official. Saddiyah knew their chances for getting granted asylum were slim.
She wished she had her laptop but that was left behind when they fled their house in al Anbar province. Now all she had to occupy her time was this old ratty paperback and the notepad that was in her satchel. Try as she might, she just couldn't get her mind to focus on the words. There was just too much going on around her.
The room was filled with mothers holding mewling infants, two men arguing over who was in line first, and several tired looking women and children. Some of the females in the room were clothed like Saddiyah in her hajib, but others were obviously not Muslim. The western woman who was working the front counter behind bulletproof glass looked like she hadn't slept in days. Several Marine officers and soldiers moved back and forth through the room always accompanied by a Kurdish officer or soldier. In one corner of the room toward the front was a dusty flat screen television showing a news feed from 'ZNN Intercontinental'. The female correspondent, wearing a flak jacket and modified 'fritz' Kevlar helmet, was reporting on the latest assault by ISIS troops on a town in Syria just over the Iraqi-Syrian border.
As Saddiyah watched Jordanian airstrikes on an ISIS truck and armor convoy, she noticed a young girl, most likely a Yazidi, judging from her clothing and lack of a headscarf, sitting under the television. She was intently drawing a picture, apparently focused on her drawing and nothing else.
She got up and walked over to the girl who could have been a younger version of her. Maybe that was what attracted her to the child.
"Hello," Saddiyah said to her. "That is a pretty picture. What are you drawing?"
The girl stopped her work and looked up in fear at the young adult in a hajib smiling at her. She started to move away from Saddiyah.
Saddiyah immediately understood why the girl was reacting the way she did. "It's all right, I won't hurt you," she said trying to reassure her. "Look, I do drawings too, see?" She held out her notepad which had a picture of desert oasis that Saddiyah had seen a few weeks ago before they fled al Anbar province.
The girl cautiously took Saddiyah's notepad and looked at the colorful drawing. The young adult sat down next to the girl. "My name is Saddiyah. What is yours?"
"My name is Amira," the girl said looking at her briefly and then looking again at the drawing. "You did this?" she asked.
Saddiyah nodded. "Yes, I did, a week ago."
The girl looked up at the young woman. "Are you Muslim?" she asked boldly.
Saddiyah smiled at her forthrightness. "Yes, I am, but I am not like those who support Daesh," she said using the common Arabic term for those of the Islamic State.
The girl smiled briefly and then looked back at the picture again. "It's very pretty," she said with a sigh. "I used to have color pencils, but I lost them when we had to flee our village."
They were two kindred spirits, Saddiyah realized. Both had been forced from homes by ISIS. "Here, you can use mine."
Amira gave her a surprised smile. "Really?"
Saddiyah nodded. "Sure," she reached into her satchel and pulled out a plastic packet of color pencils.
The girl's eyes went wide in disbelief. She looked up at Saddiyah as if to check and see if it was okay to take the offering.
"Go ahead," Saddiyah said to her, "Its okay, we can share."
Amira immediately took a light blue pencil and began coloring the sky of her drawing. She stopped and looked at the smiling teen girl. "Thank you," she said gratefully.
Saddiyah felt a lump in her throat, but tried hard not to let her emotions get the best of her. You're welcome," she replied.
USS Ronald Reagan
The young plane captain (PC) looked at the Brigadier General thunderstruck when she told him where he was headed. "You're going up with him?"
Mac could have scorched the young man for his insubordinate tone about her husband, but she was fairly certain he had watched the Admiral 'break in' his wingman and besides, this was more fun. "I took Dramamine thirty minutes ago, Petty Officer – if I'm gonna keep up with a former TopGun, I gotta be willing to fly with him."
"Yes, ma'am," the Aviation Boatswain Mate 2 said agreeing quickly. He was glad that she hadn't ripped him a new one for his insubordinate remark.
Mac turned to Bud who had been walking with them. Bud had an amused smile on his face. "Have a safe flight, ma'am," he said to her.
The One Star SJA stopped walking looked at the junior officer. "Bud, how long have you known Harm and me?" she asked.
The JAGC Commander's smile faded thought about that query for a moment. "Since 1996, General," he replied. Mac could tell he thought he was in trouble. The plane captain decided it was best that he didn't hang around and listen to this conversation.
She decided to drop a bombshell on him. "Don't you think you could address me as Mac since we're not at JAG right now?"
Bud looked momentarily confused. "Yes ma'am, uh, General, er, Mac, sorry – force of habit I guess, ma'am."
Mac and Bud looked at each other for moment and then chuckled as they continued walking toward Harm's awaiting aircraft.
? Local_?Zulu
US Consulate
Irbil, Kurdistan
Saddiyah looked over at the girl's drawing. She was surprised by how much it looked like something similar she had done when she was the girl's age. She noted that some houses had a big 'Y' on them while others had a big 'N' scrawled on them.
"Amira, why do some of the houses have a Y on them and others have an N?" she asked, her curiosity peaked.
"The Daesh did that when they came to our village. If you were Christian, you had your house marked with big 'N' for Nasare."
"You mean Christian," Saddiyah said clarifying this for herself.
"Uh huh," the girl said absently continuing to color. Now she was adding flames to what looked like a Church.
"And the Y?" Saddiyah had to know, though she suspected what it meant.
"For Jewish people," she answered as if this was an everyday question.
Inwardly Saddiyah shuddered. It reminded her of the way the Nazis in Germany had marked homes of Jewish people during World War II as she had learned in high school. Then her eyes leapt to the crosses on a hill.
"Amira, are those graves on that hill?" she said with some trepidation.
"No, those are people being crucified for being Christian and unwilling to follow the orders of the Daesh," Amira said innocently as only a child can.
Flight Deck of the USS Ronald Reagan
While Harm was talking to the young plane captain and an equally awed young Aviation Structural Mechanic, Mac walked over and began climbing up the ladder into the WSO's seat. Harm stopped talking to the plane captain and looked at her.
"Permission to come aboard," said Mac grinning. She had on her helmet and looked ready to go.
Harm thought back for a moment to another time when he had said those exact words to her as he had hung precariously onto the open door of Huey above the Arizona desert. They had both come a long way since then. "Permission granted," he returned with a grin of his own.
? Local_?Zulu
US Consulate
Irbil, Kurdistan
Mulazim/1st Lieutenant Izdihar T'lass emerged from the consulate officer's office and walked back to the waiting room. The officer had finally been able to establish a connection with Nick Hazon that hadn't faded into static. There was a mountain of paperwork that needed to be completed, but at least now the process was started. Nick and his wife, along with former Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez and his wife, were willing to be sponsors for Saddiyah and Izdihar.
As she entered the room she saw her Saddiyah engaged in lively conversation with a young Yazidi girl. Both had colorful drawings on their notepads. For some reason Saddiyah stopped what she was doing and looked up the Iraqi Army Lieutenant who had appeared.
"Mother/Em, this is Amira," she said and then she looked at the girl. "Amira, this is my mother, Lieutenant T'lass."
Amira's eyes got as big as saucers as she stopped her coloring. "You're an army officer?" the little girl asked reverently.
Izdihar squatted down in front of the girl. "Yes, I am," she replied smiling. She looked at the colorful drawing of a sunny day and smiling people. "Did you do this?" she asked.
"Uh huh," the girl said nodding. She was still in awe of this smiling female army officer.
"Amira, why don't you continue coloring the buildings while I talk to my mother for moment?"
"Okay," the girl said reluctantly, then she brightened. "Can I color on your picture, Saddiyah?"
The teen gave the child a bright smile. "Sure." She picked up Amira's notepad. "Do you mind if take your notepad for moment?"
"No, that's all right" she replied and began tackling the grass on Saddiyah's drawing.
Saddiyah and Izdihar moved away from the girl.
"What did the consulate officer say?" Saddiyah asked urgently.
"It will take another few days, but Pharmacist Mate Hazon and Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez are looking forward to seeing us," her adopted mother replied. She looked at the notebook her daughter was holding. "What did you want me to see?"
Saddiyah opened the book and showed her the frightening images. "These."
Izdihar couldn't suppress a startled gasp when she saw the atrocities that graced the child's drawings.
? Local_?Zulu
Somewhere over the Persian Gulf
Two F-18Fs streaked though the sky headed north toward Iraq.
"Lobo 20, this is Lobo 21. We are approaching RP Tennessee, feet dry in 10." Elena reported to the Admiral. Mac had noted that the Captain had been very quiet when she got out of Harm's plane. Probably it was either that or she would have thrown up all over the deck if she had spoken.
After that flight, Elena 'Wonder Woman' Bourchard had been very respectful to Admiral Rabb.
"How are you holding up back there, Mac?" the aviation/lawyer asked.
"Can I open my eyes now?" she said jocularly.
Harm looked in his mirror which showed him the view of his smiling WSO. "Funny, Marine. We're going to be making our pass through the holding area soon. We've got four tankers to inspect. Two big, two little."
"What are we looking for on these planes?" she asked.
"Anything that could hurt the refueling planes or the tankers themselves…damaged fuel drogues, bulges in hoses, so on."
"Copy that." Mac replied soberly. "Let's hope we don't find any of that stuff."
"Roger that, Mac."
-TBC…
