Disclaimer: I was, am, and remain thankful to both the creators of Numb3rs, who created and own fascinating characters; and to the men and women of our military for letting me play in their sandbox. Between the two, my stories are practically written for me.
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Chapter 9
"So, I gotta ask." Said Nikki, pausing the story. "Why not just leave McQuaid, get the phone, call for help, and let the cavalry ride to McQuaid's rescue?"
"Two reasons." Replied Colby immediately. "One, we weren't at all sure we were going to be able to find the phone, but we knew we couldn't leave a soldier there alone; and two, even if we did get the cell phone, we didn't know how long it would take for the cavalry to arrive. We couldn't risk it taking too long and McQuaid getting killed while we waited."
"And three," interjected Smitty, "I know you haven't missed Hero's well-developed sense of knight-in-shiny-armor-ness. No way he's lost that!"
"No. Nah-ah." Smiled David. "That, he'll never lose, despite all the people who keep trying to beat it out of him."
"I do not think I'm a knight in shining armor!"
"Yeah, Granger," replied Nikki, "you do. But it's OK, we figure it's the Idaho thing. We've just learned to duck when you really get going."
"And put our fingers in our ears to muffle the explosions." Added Don.
"Well, knight or not, that night, the crazy hero-types were the Rangers." Colby shook his head in genuine astonishment. "I've never seen anyone more efficient about taking people out of the fight, except for maybe Nikki's spooky boyfriend."
Don lifted an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure you don't want to call Edgerton that where he can hear it."
Colby nodded. "I'm pretty sure you're right."
Osterman made his way through the darkened room of the clinic, feeling for a door. The room let out into hallway, lit dimly by a single bulb at the far end. The hallway was empty. From the next room, Osterman could hear sounds which reminded him all to much of the birth of his own twin daughters, now two years old and half a world away. He silently prayed for his girls and for the baby being born as he slipped across the hall and through an open door. This room was large and unlit, but occupied by one woman, sleeping in a bed on the far side. Osterman crossed the room and placed a hand over the woman's mouth. She awoke with a start, her eyes wide.
"Now, I have to tell you just how bad this was for the woman." Colby explained. "In Afghan culture, for an unrelated man to even be in a woman's sleeping room, it's…just…WRONG. Not a little wrong. A lot wrong. And here's this armed American man, and he's actually TOUCHING her. She must have been mortified. But she also had been living in a war zone for a while. She knew a weapon when she saw one, and she knew better than to upset the guy with the gun."
Osterman held one hand over the woman's mouth and signaled her to be quiet with the other, then hefted his rifle for emphasis. She nodded fearfully. When he removed his hand, the woman ran to a corner of the room, covering herself with a blanket. She was crying, but she was doing it quietly. That would have to do. Osterman went to the window and twitched aside the heavy curtain to peer out. As he expected, the window looked out onto the courtyard, directly across from the door. Osterman used his knife to slowly cut away the window screen, checked the position of the Afghan men in the courtyard, and flashed his laser pointer once, quickly, against the window's sill so it could be seen by Granger and Jeeter but not by the Afghan men.
Granger and Jeeter had waited silently for almost a full minute before seeing a quick flash of the laser pointer through one window on the courtyard. After a slow count to ten, all three soldiers entered the courtyard, their rifles aimed at the Afghanis. The men were caught unprepared, their rifles on their laps or on the ground beside them. They put their hands over their heads. Granger stepped forward, cautiously, and removed the Afghan men's weapons, passing them over the wall to Doc Smith. Then he went to McQuaid, who was awake, smiling and crying at the same time.
"Where the H___ did you all come from?"
Granger put his finger to his lips. "Can you walk?" He asked, cutting the man's bindings. McQuaid's uniform was more than just torn. It was burnt away in several places, and raw red and blackened skin showed through the holes.
"Sort of." He staggered to his feet. "A little, anyway."
"I need you to go over that wall. Can you?"
McQuaid looked doubtful. "I can try. Then where?"
"There's a doc on the other side. She'll get you where you need to go."
"She? You brought a woman here?"
"Yeah. And you'll listen to her if you want to get out of here."
One of the Afghan men stepped forward. "Americans?"
Jeeter answered, shoving the man back against the wall. "Yes. Americans. Now shut up." The Afghani shoved back, opening his mouth to sound an alarm. Jeeter hit the man in the side of the head with his rifle butt. The Afghani dropped, unconscious. "Hero, if we're going to get him out of here, we gotta do it now."
Granger helped the injured National Guardsman to the wall, where he and Osterman helped to lift him from one side while Doc Smith levered him over from the other. Next, Osterman, Granger and Jeeter used the men's clothing to tie the Afghanis' hands, gagged them, and then roped them together. They'd be able to free themselves reasonably quickly, but if the group wasn't gone by then, it'd all be over anyway.
The three men went back through Osterman's window. The woman was gone. S___. Time for more speed. Hopefully, Doc Smith and McQuaid were already headed back out of the village. Jeeter went to the door of the room, opened it, and moved into the hallway. Granger and then Osterman followed. The sounds from the birthing room had changed. Happy laughter mixed with a child's high-pitched wail. The noise did, indeed, cover the soldiers' progress down the hall. At the end of the corridor, lit by the single bulb, was a left turn to another hallway. Along it were three doors. The first was locked. Probably a store room. The second door was closed, with a light glowing from the crack at the bottom. For now, the men passed that door, preferring to avoid people if possible. The third door led to a small examining room, empty at this time of night. The men searched it, but were unsurprised to not find the clinic's phone there. The hallway let out into a large waiting area, separated into two curtained halves so that women could wait separately from the men. To one side was the room they were looking for—the doctor's private office. The door was closed, and once again a light shone beneath it.
Granger signaled Jeeter //you-watch-hallway// and then Osterman //you-left of-door// and moved to the right side of the door. Osterman and Jeeter took their assigned places. Granger raised the M9 pistol, still in his left hand, and counted down once more. Three…two…one. He kicked in the door, bringing the pistol up and pointing it directly at the doctor. The man was speaking into the cell phone they'd come to find. When he saw the soldiers, he yelled into the phone and out the window, looking panicked, before putting his hands in the air. Granger crossed the room in one step and grabbed the phone, cutting the connection. Too late. Shouts from the front of the building were echoed by more from the men they'd left in the courtyard. Without a moment's thought, the soldiers turned and ran for the back of the clinic.
"You know, I'd never been really scared before that little walk we took." Colby said, musingly. "Really. Never before. But I d___ed near pee'd my pants right at that moment." He looked at his friends, and found them staring back at him. Charlie's mouth hung open. "What? I obviously got out of there. I'm telling you the story, aren't I?"
"You are one crazy son of a b____." Nikki said in a low voice. "You know that, right?"
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