…For Meritorious Service, Chapter XIX
In the twisting, turning streets of Mirbullah, George Butler consulted his GPS receiver as they made yet another turn. But instead of heading around the village or to the main highway, there seemed to be no end to this narrow side road, second floor balconies seemed to lean out toward the middle.
Butler looked over at the driver. "Corporal! We're headed the wrong direct-"
"Sir!" Corporal Wilkins pointed to the Marine frantically waving at them. "It's Sergeant Colwell! He's motioning to us!" The relief was evident in the boy's face. George Butler was relieved as well Finally, a friendly face….
Both watched Sergeant Paul Colwell as he frantically motioned to the lost convoy to head down the side street to his right.
"Head the direction he's indicating!" ordered Butler, "I'll thank him as we go by!"
"Aye Sir!" returned Corporal Wilkins.
As Butler's truck approached the waving Sergeant, he noticed the odd look on Paul Colwell's face. George Butler hoped he was wrong about the man and his intentions.
xxxixxx
As Harm and Mac clambered down into the cavernous troop compartment, they noticed that they were the only ones on board, besides the driver and the commander of the AMTRAC.
Two Iraqi Fedayeen soldiers snapped off shots at the AMTRAC as it rolled toward them. The vehicle's fifty caliber opened up, sending the men diving for cover behind a burning Volvo station wagon. Harm heard the bullets bouncing off the thick hide of the carrier.
Mac looked up the Lance Corporal, "Where is the rest of the crew?"
The Lance Corporal kept his eyes on the situation outside the carrier while talking with the JAG attorneys. "The latrine and other places, Ma'am; you're my troops now – there's extra rifles stored down there that you can use in case you need them."
Harm and Mac exchanged wry looks at that sarcastic comment and the soldier's suggestion.
"Do you see the Captain?" Harm asked from within the lumbering armored box.
"No Sir," returned the Corporal grimly, firing off a short burst from his machine gun to scatter another group of rioters. "All I see are Saddam lovers, Commander."
xxxixxx
The alley seemed to be closing in on either side. Butler suddenly noticed the decrease in gunfire as they headed toward a wide boulevard on that lead to the main highway on the other side of the village. Butler knew what was about to happen….
"Get back to Sergeant Dennison's truck!" Butler said urgently to his driver.
"Sir?!" replied the confused man, trying not to take his eyes off the road.
Butler wanted the kid out of harm's way—something bad was about to happen. "You heard me Marine! Get out!" Barked Butler, "I'll take over for you! Get Dennison to turn this group around and headed out of here! Now!"
Butler slowed the massive tanker truck long enough that Corporal Wilkins was able to jump out and run back toward the other approaching trucks.
The Captain looked up to see a Fedayeen gunner aiming an RPG at him. He looked over to the left of the gunner and saw something he couldn't believe. Seth Grearson and Paul Colwell were watching, not doing anything to stop the man.
Butler stomped on the accelerator, urging the fuel laden vehicle forward, but he knew he couldn't outrun the grenade's rocket motor. In his rearview mirror the Captain saw the flash of light followed by searing pain and then nothing.
What Captain George Butler could not see, mercifully, was the conflagration rapidly engulfing his tanker truck and the attached trailer.
xxxixxx
Two dust covered Russian built Bronovannaya Razvedivatelnaya Dozornaya Mashina (BRDM) Model 96 armored scout cars were headed south from Al-Nasiriyah. The recon vehicles were part of the Multinational Division – Central. It's task; to keep the peace in central Iraq.
As the lead vehicle rolled down the dirt road, it's commander stood in the right hand circular hatch forward of the car's conical turret. Pulkownik (Colonel) Luisa Baranova surveyed the rice paddies and date palms interspersed with desert scrub plants and sand dunes. This land was very different from the rolling grassy plains of her native Poland. Her unit, the 'Szczecin' 12th Mechanized Division, which had been in country for less than a month, already it had its hands full helping its fellow multinational forces implement this shaky peace.
The commander of the 45th Reconnaissance Battalion remembered the words of the previous commander as he had handed over command to her. "This relative quiet in our little corner of this volatile country belies the true nature of this region. Remember this Baranova…knowing this may help you one day save yourself and your unit."
She remembered and tried to let local leaders run things as much as her political advisors would let her. Her unit provided a strong visible presence to deter some of the more fanatical, but she tried not to be too heavy handed. It was a difficult role for soldier trained to fight and kill the enemy. However, this was the seamy underside to that brave new world she had dreamed about when Poland was still communist. Now she was a soldier of this new generation and her actions would determine Poland's role in future humanitarian and peacekeeping operations.
They were headed south to link up with the main British unit stationed in this area. The 5th Regiment Royal Horse Artillery (5 RHA) had been involved in the opening actions of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Now they, like all other soldiers that had been involved from the beginning, were all trying to help rebuild the country. It was Colonel Baranova's intention to link up with the British and lay out patrol routes for the two countries' forces. The Italians were to take care of Al Nasiriyah and its surrounding suburbs. They would take care of the countryside.
Andrew Prine's Alvis forward observer carrier moved down the road toward his unit's most northern positions. Prine was concerned about the morale of his forward units. It had been weeks since any of them had leave. With the recent spate of unrest topped off by the fanatic's gasoline bomb a little while ago only served to heighten his concern for his troop's morale. It was vital that his troops be alert and ready to respond. Off to the right was a Dutch Hydrema 910 mine clearing vehicle moving slowly and methodically through a field, beating the ground with its chains to set off any mines other mine clearing teams had not found. Momentarily fascinated by the action of the unusual vehicle, Prine let his attention wander.
Baranova's two-vehicle convoy approached the Hydrema and saw Prine's carrier moving north toward the MCV. What Prine didn't see was a Zil-151 4x2 flatbed truck which had gunned its engine and was heading straight toward his carrier. Prine was still watching the Dutch vehicle.
It was Baranova who spotted the danger first.
"Look out!" She barked in cultured English at Prine. He did a double take and then turned to see the truck bearing down on his carrier. There was little that he had in the way of armament, except for a light machinegun.
She dispensed with warning shots; this vehicle was barreling toward the British personnel carrier for a reason, and it was not to greet it and its passengers to the area.
"Gunner!" she snapped in her native Polish, "Open fire on that truck!" As her gunner complied and the 14.5 mm machinegun began chopping up the front of the speeding truck, she flipped a switch on her radio. "Corporal!" she yelled as she eyed the MCV, "Turn your vehicle to the left! Now!"
Seeing the rapidly approaching danger, the Corporal and his partner nodded in agreement and gunned their engine. The big 4x4 armored truck rumbled in front of the speeding truck, its blast shield lowering.
The next few moments blurred together as the Soviet built truck slammed into the shield and detonated, ripping the madman's truck to pieces. The exploding truck perforated the shield of the MCV, the vaporized truck spraying both the Dutch crew and the hapless Alvis carrier with white-hot shrapnel.
Both men from the Hydrema MCV tumbled out of its doors, bleeding from dozens of superficial wounds. The crew of the Alvis was not so lucky. Thinly armored, the exploding truck had holed the carrier in several vital spots, including the crew compartment. Baranova swore and ordered her driver to get as close as he could to the fiercely burning mess.
xxxixxx
As the explosions continued to envelop the tanker truck, several Fedayeen supporters came running down the street shaking their fists and rifles at the wreck. The assassin, along with Grearson and Colwell, disappeared into the growing throng.
The Lance Corporal's AMTRAC pushed its way toward the boulevard.
"Commander! I need you up here pronto!"
Harm, hearing the urgency in the man's voice made his way through the jolting carrier toward the hatch ladder. Mac followed on his heels. When the naval Commander reached the hatch, the Lance Corporal handed the binoculars to Harm and pointed at the violently burning truck.
Harm felt his throat tighten and stomach knot up as he recognized the burning remains of Captain Butler's tanker truck.
Mac, grabbed an extra Kevlar helmet from the floor of the carrier and started making her way up to the hatch opening where Harm was standing.
"Harm? What's going on out there?" she asked, "Do you see him?"
Irritated with Flyboy's lapse in communication, she quickened her pace up the hatch ladder. "Harm? Hey Harm!" What's up with him now? Sometimes that man is communicative as a brick wall…
The Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. didn't really hear her – he stood looking in disbelief at the burning wreck.
"Navy!" Now she became concerned, whatever was drawing his attention away from her was keeping him from speaking as well.
"Harm! I-" Mac stopped as she reached the hatch opening and stuck her head outside. She immediately saw the roiling black cloud to their front. Not speaking, she pulled herself up until she was standing beside him. The Marine attorney looked on in disbelief at the burning wreck. There was no use asking of anyone had survived or if they should try to rescue Captain Butler or his driver.
She felt her stomach lurch.
Harm looked down and sighed heavily. They had come so close and now-
"Inta!_Hey! Xalli ba-lak!_Watch out! Wiqif!_Stop!" Harm quickly turned his head back toward the yelling Lance Corporal and the wreck to see what the problem was.
Several more Fedayeen supporters came running down the street shaking their fists at the wreck. Others dared to get close to fire, dancing around it like they were at a beach party.
Mac saw that the AMTRAC commander had his sidearm out and was motioning to the 'celebrating' Iraqis to keep back from the violently burning truck remains. Inta! Waqif!_ "Hey! Stop!" the Lance Corporal continued barking to no avail.
As the Commander turned to say something to the Lance Corporal, a pop, pop, pop followed by singing metal announced the arrival of several rounds, stray or deliberately aimed. Either someone was convinced the AMTRAC commander was going to fire on innocents or was just trying to add to carnage.
"Take cover!" yelled the Lance Corporal. All three dropped inside the relative safety of the AAV. All three landed on the floor of the amphibious personnel carrier with a thump and they nearly lost their balance. The AMTRAC Commander was the first to stand up.
"Frank! Get us outta here now!" yelled the commander down the length of the cavernous cargo toward the driver's station. All three stumbled as the AMTRAC grumbled to life and began to reverse back down the boulevard. That action seemed to embolden the group which was quickly transforming into a surging mob, thirsty for more blood. All three could hear objects bouncing off the amphibious carrier.
"Rocks and bricks now," grunted the commander as he made his way back to his gunner's station. "Recoilless rifles and RPGs next. We gotta stop that from happening!"
The lady Marine and the Navy aviator did not raise a protest. This was rapidly turning into a life and death situation. Mac grabbed a rifle from the floor of the carrier and slapped a cartridge into it. As she clicked off the safety, Harm pulled out his service pistol and cocked it. Both saw the commander of the vehicle grab the radio wire for his CVC helmet and plug it in to the vehicle's radio.
THIS IS TRACK FOUR TWO! WE ARE UNDER ASSAULT BY RIOTING CIVVIES!
WHERE ARE YOU FOUR TWO?
EAST OF THE MAIN SUPPLY ROUTE! GET US SOME BACKUP QUICK!
CAN YOU HOLD YOUR POSITION FOUR TWO?
NEGATIVE, NEGATIVE, SITUATION DETERIORATING RAPIDLY….
The reply to his call for help seemed to take forever. In the meantime, objects both large and small continued to bounce off of the carrier, sounding like hail hitting aluminum siding.
HANG IN THERE FOUR TWO, CAVALRY'S ON THE WAY! HOLD YOUR POSITION AS BEST YOU CAN.
ROGER THAT, HOPE THEY DON'T GET HERE TOO LATE!
As the Lance Corporal finished his report, Mac headed toward the commander's hatch.
Harm only watched for a moment before he reacted to what she was doing.
"Whoa Mac! Wait! Where do you think you're going?!" His arm shot out in an attempt to stop her. She resisted the protective move. His stunned expression made Mac look at him in askance.
"Harm, I'm a Marine, remember? Rifleman first-"
That jarred him into reacting. "Oh no you don't Sundance, get back here-" Mac could not believe that he was being like this again. She gave him a pained expression.
"Harm I've gotta drive these people back-"
The navy Commander tried logic. "Jarhead, in case you didn't notice those people are firing at us!" Harmon Rabb, Jr. was not buying her superwoman act.
But she just smirked sarcastically at him. "That's what usually happens in ground combat, Flyboy." She teased.
The Commander's voice, however, was firm. "You're not doing this alone."
"Fine, Butch," she said trying to make him back down, "We'll die together."
It didn't work, he merely smiled at her. "You're the one who wanted to go out with guns blazing."
She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Great time to remind me, Harm."
Both reached for the hatch at the same time. Mac quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Maac," Harm said in frustrated tone, "I am not doing rock, paper, scissors over this to see who goes first!"
She smiled brightly at him. "Good, then I'll go first-"
He touched her arm, stilling her.
"We'll go out together." She looked into his piercing blue eyes and stern expression.
She hesitated only a moment before nodding in agreement.
"In blaze of glory?" She quipped nervously, licking her lips.
He smiled that thousand-watt smile. "Only if this carrier goes up like a roman candle; 'course if that happens we won't care and we won't have to worry about cremation…."
She rolled her eyes and chuckled ruefully at his gallows humor. "Thanks for that comforting thought, Navy."
"Anytime Marine, anytime."
Mirbullah Police Station
As a MP's HMMWV pulled away from the front entrance of the building, a thunderous explosion rocked the compound, sending Marines, Iraqi policemen, guards, and Civil Defense troops scrambling for cover.
Through the smoke and haze a four man commando team followed by second group of four, hustled across the front drive, firing from the hip as they ran. Two Iraqi Civil Defense Corps [ICDC] troopers fell, dropping their AK-74 rifles as they doubled over. One Marine caught a burst in the chest which sent him tumbling backward, arms flailing wildly for a handhold to grasp that didn't exist.
Two policemen and one of the guards regained their senses and began firing back, but their aim was off. Bullets smacked into one of the burning patrol cars and kicked up dirt and gravel.
Ignoring the wildly inaccurate fire, the two teams burst through the front doors of the station, shooting the desk sergeant to death before he could press an alarm button or draw his side arm.
As the teams moved into the lobby, they sprayed the room with suppressive fire. Marines and Iraqi police officers dove for protection behind walls and overturned furniture. The two lead men of team one opened up with RPK-74 squad rifles, spraying the entryway to the holding pen and the hall corridor.
Two guards, one Iraqi and one Marine, escorting an suspected Fedayeen soldier, sank to their knees grasping at their wounds. The prisoner, at first jubilant, recoiled in horror as he realized he was a target as well.
As the gunmen continued to expertly spray the walls and hallway, forcing all to lay on the floor or be killed, the prisoner found himself lying in a pool of his own blood beside the fallen guards.
Oblivious to their condition, the two teams rushed past the three sprawled in the hallway.
Passing the wounded, dead and dying, they made their way to the cell area. In the first cell they found a hysterically crying woman – grabbing her roughly, they shoved her out the door and into the smoky hallway. She continued to scream as she stepped into and around the dead and wounded.
The two teams were already on their way to the next cell, where they found two Marines, staring back at them with a mixture of shock and fear etched on their faces. Only the pitiless eyes of the killers could be seen. The rest of faces hid by their kefiyahs and ski masks.
They showed no emotion as they gunned down the two hapless prisoners. As the men fell to the ground, the lead commando pulled off his mask revealing Sergeant Colwell.
"That's not them!" He barked at the other gunmen.
"Where are they?!" demanded one of the others.
"I don't know! They were here a few hours ago!"
"Enough! Maybe they moved them to another cell or the interrogation room!" The man pulled his kefiyah back to reveal his Arabic features. "You, and you! Go down to the interrogation room, find them!"
"The rest of you! Come with us! Sergeant! Get your mask back on! We cannot afford to have you spotted now!"
Colwell pulled his mask back on as he backed out of the cell. What he didn't see was that one of the prisoners was spelling something in the blood that leaked from him.
In another cell, the commandos were hitting an Iraqi man with their rifle butts as he pleaded for his life. His called went unheeded as they tossed his battered body in the hallway shouting expletives at him as he crumpled onto the floor.
xxxixxx
Ahmad Jalloud heard the explosions, gunfire and screams mixed with grunts. His companions and fellow tankers, Khalid and Rafid looked nervously at their leader, but Jalloud's face held none of their emotions.
He had expected this; in most towns and villages near the Sunni Triangle, Americans were reviled and Saddam's soldiers were hailed as heroes and martyrs. He heard and understood what was happening as the rioters went from cell to cell, releasing Iraqi prisoners and killing any American guards or prisoners. He and his compatriots would soon be free.
Jalloud had a small twinge of regret that he would not see the pretty Marine Lieutenant Colonel again. Perhaps it was just as well – she was probably killed when the riots began. She would have been seen as collaborator and been shot during the first moments that the riot began.
At least now he would finally get back in the fight. He knew that foreign guerilla fighters loyal to one of Osama bin Laden's lieutenants – Samid Al-Sahood – had gathered some remnants of his division and survivors of Saddam's Fedayeen in defensive positions north of Mirbullah—
The door to his cell began to open. At last, he thought idly, Khalid's snoring was beginning to – his thoughts of relief turned to confusion as he saw the rioters force their way in. There were a couple of brother Iraqis in the group and some of those Arab volunteers of Al-Sahood's, but who were Caucasians? Were they mercenaries?
"You! Traitor!" barked the lead Arab pointing his AK-74 at Jalloud. "Over there! Move!"
His compatriots cowered in a corner of the cell surrounded by the rest of the commandos.
The lead man advanced menacingly toward the Iraqi tank commander. "You elitist!" he spat out. The man pointed at Jalloud while keeping his rifle trained on him. "Did you talk to the Marines?! Answer their questions?!"
"Our tank was destroyed before we had a chance to fight back," explained Jalloud, fear growing in his voice, "They surprised us with their gunship tactics-"
"LIAR!" Screamed the Arab, "You surrendered to them in return for your eventual freedom! You traitorous dog, your love of money and the decadent Western way of life has been revealed to us-"
"What?!" Snapped Jalloud, regaining his courage in the face of such preposterous charges. He was angered by man's thick-headedness. "Do I look like I am sitting in the lap of luxury – do you see maidens prancing about?!"
"Silence!" barked the man, swinging his rifle across Jalloud's face, breaking his nose and crushing the bone beneath his left eye. "Shut up you worthless mongrel!"
The tank commander stumbled backward, failing to maintain his balance. He landed on his back, as his driver and gunner watched terrified – unsure of what was going to happen next.
Bloody but still defiant, Jalloud sat up and then got up on his knees, not to beg for mercy, but because it was as far as he could rise given his present condition. "You idiots!" he screamed in his best officer voice. "I'm an officer in the Republican Guard! You stupid Mujahideen! You're all alike! Only those you deem pure are worthy-"
"-And it is your decadence that led to the destruction of your unit!" The Arab fired back, "You witnessed our ambush in Mirbullah instead of manning your position! Right?!"
Ahmad Jalloud knew he was about to be sentenced by this mobile judicial unit – but why? Then as if a fog bank was lifting he saw the reason why.
"You! What are-" The words froze on his tongue as a hail of automatic fire ripped into his body.
The Arab turned to Khalid and Rafid. "Your worthless coward of a commander has been forgiven for his transgressions-" before he or any of the other commandos could react the surviving crew members of tank 300, using strength born of pure fear, knocked the assassins out of their way and bolted for the door. One of the commandos started to raise his rifle and fire at the fleeing men.
"No!" The commando shot a quick look from the man who gave the order, Sergeant Colwell, to the apparent leader of the squad, the Arab gunman.
"He's right, let them return to their families. They are worthless to our cause." Growled the Arab leader.
xxxixxx
Benjamin Lukens sat up on his bed as did Frederick Buell. Buell laid his book down as he listened to the gunfire and explosions in the distance.
"What's going on?" Asked the Cobra weapons officer.
I don't know, replied the Cobra pilot, "But I'm gonna find out – Hey!" he yelled down the length of the dark hall. "Hey! What's going on out there?!"
"Shut up!" Snapped the MP.
The gunfire and explosions seemed to be coming closer
The Cobra crew looked at each other. They had to get out of here – they were sitting ducks in this prison cell
"Hey!" continued Lukens undeterred by the rebuke, "Let us out of here!"
xxxixxx
In another part of the village, a squad of Marines were crouched by the corner of a house. Just down the street, some of the rioters had set up a light machinegun and were firing away at the Marines' protection. As the Marines hugged the wall, the light machinegun chipped away at the other side of the house. Though they couldn't see it, some of the rioters were setting up more machineguns and now a few of them were armed with RPGs.
"Sergeant, we gotta take the gun out before someone gets hurt," said a Corporal who could have passed for a linebacker. He tried to keep an eye on the insurgents.
Paul Colwell has just rejoined the fight on the Marines' side and this was first unit he had the misfortune to run into. He did not realize they were headed back into the fighting – that was his first mistake.
SERGEANT?! A panicked Private noticed the commanding officer didn't seem to be doing anything to help. To try and keep the rioters at bay, he stuck his rifle around the corner and let off a short burst from his M-16.
Paul had to do something quick. He scanned the area behind him.
"Corporal when I give you the signal, head for the opposite side of the street. I'll get you men back – I promise."
Sergeant Colwell picked up his gear and ran back toward the MSR.
The Corporal watched as the man ran down the street. I hope the Sergeant knows what he is doing…
xxxixxx
"You ready?" Mac nodded grimly at Harm. "Three…two…one….go!"
Both burst through the closed hatch, knocking bricks and paving stones off the top of the AAV. Bullets continued to sing through the smoky air above them.
They exchanged a quick glance of silent understanding. Both raised their weapons and fired into the air.
The staccato of Mac's M4A1 Carbine on full auto and the bang, bang, bang of Harm's 9mm Parabellum automatic handgun sent the advancing mob scattering in every direction. A few hastily snapped off rounds sailed over the carrier in response, but it didn't last long as the general organization of the mob fragmented and shattered, destroying their offensive capability.
xxxixxx
"Why does keeping the peace have to be so violent?" the lead MP shook his head as he and his ICDC troops stood at the roadblock. The Iraqi officer merely looked disgustedly at the burning vehicles and buildings
"They are destroying themselves, the idiots," he muttered to no one in particular.
Bud, Sturgis and Nick's HMMWV rolled up to the roadblock and parked close to the roadblock. They all watched the billowing clouds of smoke rising from various points in Mirbullah.
"Is that gunfire?" asked Bud.
The lead MP viewed the chaos resignedly and nodded his head. "Yeah. So much for winning their hearts and minds."
"Where is that coming from?" asked Sturgis about the rapid weapon reports, punctuated by the occasional whoosh of an RPG rocket.
"The feeder road east of the MSR, Sir. One of our AMTRACs found some of the convoy members trapped and tried to rescue them…."
Sturgis and Bud exchanged a telling look and then they both turned to the medic. No words were exchanged but there was agreement among the three.
"…now they're trapped themselves." Continued the MP unaware of the plan being formed.
"The convoy members?" Repeated Bud, doing his best to keep the MP distracted.
"Yeah, a fuel tanker got turned around in the village and was torched."
Nick spoke for both of the lawyers. "Sergeant we gotta get to that tanker, now."
The MP Sergeant glared at the medic. "Corpsman, no one is going down that road until the relief force gets here. It would be suicide. Those celebrating Iraqis would rip you, the Commander and the Lieutenant to shreds."
Their best friends were in that swirling cauldron of violence. Commander Sturgis Turner spoke solemnly and with conviction "We'll take that chance Sergeant,"
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Sir…." replied one of the Iraqi police officers as he produced a pistol.
xxxixxx
The surly MP was this close to committing assault. He'd had enough out of these two air jockeys. "I'm only gonna tell you jerks one more time! Pipe down or I'm gonna-"
"You have to let us out," pleaded Buell, "You can't leave us to die in here!"
"No one is gonna die – today! Now settle down!"
The explosion across the street caused all three of them to turn their heads toward the source of the blast.
xxxixxx
Taking cover behind a bullet riddled abandoned dump truck, Corporal Seth Grearson never figured this is what Captain Lewis meant by a diversion. "They're ripping the place apart," he muttered. Seth turned to see three Privates, a Private First Class and a Lance Corporal running toward him. The men took cover on either side of Grearson
"Where's your squad leader?" yelled Grearson above the sounds of battle.
"Dead sir!" came back the response as the Lance Corporal took a moment to sight his rifle on a running insurgent. A quick three round burst sent the rioter stumbling into a group of garbage cans. The noise made by him falling over the cans was almost lost in the steady reports of machineguns and rifles. The PFC crouching next to him shoved a 40-millimeter high explosive grenade round into his M-203 grenade launcher. "Glad we found you Corp!" he added giving the man a quick smile
"Yeah, me too," grunted Grearson as bullets continued to whack and ping off the truck.
xxxixxx
As AMTRAC Four Two stopped backing away from the disorganized mob, Harm gripped Mac's arm and pointed off to his left. Down a side street, they spotted the convoy stopped.
"Butler's driver!" blurted out Mac as she saw Corporal Wilkins conversing with one of the other truck drivers.
Harm yelled down into the AAV. "Swing us to the left down that side street!"
The Lance Corporal looked incredulously at the two JAG Corps lawyers. "Sir, we were told to hold our position and that's what I intend to do!"
Mac shot her best Marine DI glare at the man. "Belay that order Lance Corporal!" snarled the lady Marine, "Do as the Commander says, Now!"
Years of military training kicked in. The Lance Corporal snapped to. "Aye, aye Colonel! Bring'er around Frank, on the double!" The big carrier swung to the left and clattered down the alley toward the remains of the convoy.
xxxixxx
"Come on," repeated Ben for the fourth time, "Let us outta here!"
The MP looked at the prisoners and then back toward the source of the firing.
He fished out his ring of keys and inserted one into the lock. "All right; but if you guys make a run for it-"
Ben nodded hurriedly as the MP worked on unlocking the cell door. "You can shoot us in the back and bury us in the battalion landfill! Look, you have my word, okay?! Now get this door open!"
The MP pulled open the door and the two desperate Cobra crewmen moved into the hallway as he pulled the unlocked the jail cell door open wider. The three quickly made their way to the entrance of the detention area.
xxxixxx
Nick exchanged a look with Sturgis. They weren't going to get anywhere discussing their concerns with these soldiers – their orders were clear – keep anyone else from going into the village. If they wanted to rescue their friends they were going to have to do it by themselves.
Sturgis nodded to Bud, who quietly slipped the Humvee into gear.
"You're right," The former submariner said reasonably, "We should just wait here. It's safer…." The Iraqi Civil Defense trooper and the Marine began to relax.
A loud explosion drew their attention away for just a moment. That was all the time that Bud needed. He stomped on the accelerator, weaving through the makeshift barricades. The two guards could only stare dumbly as the vehicle roared down the block toward the sound of the battle.
xxxixxx
Lieutenant Prine slumped against the side of the Polish BRDM. The Polish Corpsman attended his minor burns and numerous wounds.
"You are lucky to be alive." Commented the Polish medic. Baranova, in all the commotion after the bombing, had taken off her camouflaged fritz style Kevlar helmet. The clips that usually held her soft brown hair on head had fallen as soft brown shoulder length curls which framed the concerned look on her face.
She nodded in agreement as she watched the man work on the British officer. "He is right. That truck bomb was meant to kill you, Lieutenant."
"Well… they almost… bloody well succeeded…." Prine said haltingly through his gritted teeth as the Corpsman bandaged the stump of the man's right arm. "I won't be …ahh…playing cricket anytime soon…will I?"
The Polish combat medic, not having a good grasp on British sports, exchanged a puzzled look with Baranova, and then merely smiled and patted the artilleryman's good shoulder.
"That's what I bloody well…figured…." The British artilleryman grunted as the medic began working on some of the man's less serious wounds.
xxxixxx
The AAV clattered down the alley toward the convoy vehicles. Harm was scanning the area to the left side of their vehicle, fortunately, the mob seemed to have dispersed He was about to say something to the lady Marine, when he felt a pair of hands shove his head downward.
A bottle careened off the open hatch door with a hollow ka-bong. Harm, his eyes wide open in surprise, was staring up at Mac.
"Stay alert Squid! You almost had your bell rung!" Harm was climbing back up and about to respond when the carrier rattled to a halt. Both lawyers turned to see a large group of people converging on the AMTRAC from the front
The Corporal opened his hatch motioning at both of them "They're coming back," he announced unnecessarily, "Looks like your efforts at humanitarian dispersal failed – guess we'll have to do it the hard way this time."
He ducked a bottle aimed at his head. "They don't look as gentle as the other group." He turned his turret mounted machine gun toward the approaching group.
Mac and Harm exchanged soulful looks and then lifted their weapons and prepared to fire again – this time with the intent of inflicting bodily harm.
They were about to fire when the mob again melted and began to disperse. Approaching engines from behind them signaled that reinforcements had arrived. The lawyers exchanged quick looks of relief, but they kept their weapons drawn and pointed at the rapidly dispersing crowd.
"Colonel! Commander!" Bud's eager voice made them smile.
"Bud!" Harm called out smiling, "Sounds like you brought the cavalry with you!"
"Hey you! Halt!" All three on the carrier turned in time to see a group of MP's pointing their rifles at Bud, Nick and Sturgis. The three slowly get out of their HMMWV with their hands raised.
Confusion clouded the AMTRAC passengers' faces. Harm shot Mac a 'what's going on look'. Mac looked at the Humvee and then back at Harm, shrugging her shoulders.
"Actually Sir," said Bud as the lead MP wrapped plastic cuffs on his wrists, "They aren't reinforcements, they were chasing us because we ran a roadblock."
Harm and Mac look incredulously at the junior officer, who gave them a sick smile.
Sturgis looked sheepishly at his academy buddy and his Marine friend. "It was the only way to get them to follow us."
-TBC…