Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Hayes
Surviving hell isn't easy but when you realize you don't have much to lose anymore, it gets surprisingly easier. I'm not worried about getting home to Charlie or starting our family. My only focus is right here, right now. Let the bullets fly and the bad guys die.
That's what this place is, though: hell.
There's no shortage of carnage and gunfire around the crumbling city.
A true war zone. Black smoke fills the air from tire fires, shots echo off the buildings, bodies lay haphazardly on the ground.
It feels like I'm living in a video game.
The numbness to death around has enveloped us all.
However, I wouldn't choose to be anywhere else.
Mothers and their children have been ripped from their homes, murdered or even worse raped and left on the side of the road to die.
Fathers forced to watch and then tortured to death.
The enemy has no rules, no morals, no care for human life.
If we can offer any form of protection, any sense of help, that's all that matters.
Even if it means risking our lives to do it.
It wasn't long before the fear of dying evaporated and, left in its place, was a "fuck-it" attitude. We're doing what we've been training to do: kill for the greater good.
We've been inching our way back in, trying to take the city back. Peeking out through small holes in the buildings with our rifles, watching for any sign of the enemy.
"Woah, holy shit." Keller announced to me and the three other guys hiding out in the abandoned elementary school.
Drew, Lincoln, and my head snap up at once to see where he has his sights on.
We joke that Keller's too pretty to be a SEAL but the man may be the finest sniper I know.
It's not his fault that he looks like he belongs in one of the rom-coms that Everett's obsessed with but it's the only thing we can truly mess with him about.
"No gun, but it isn't the 90's. Why the fuck he got a walkie-talkie? Everyone around here uses cell phones."
My sight lines up with the military-aged man that Keller spotted.
He's clearly relaying information while he's looking toward the front lines of the fighting that's happening just to the north of him.
Our team isn't directly involved in the fight, but our objective is still to protect the Iraqi military and the US soldiers helping them.
We all studied the man, watching for even one more sign of ill intent. Everything about him has our spider senses tingling. From his posture to the way he's reporting on the walkie-talkie.
Lincoln notices the four men sitting in the room adjacent to the balcony at the same time I do. We can clearly see the men loading up bags full of weapons. "Take the shot."
Keller doesn't even think twice; he shoots and the man falls to the ground.
The men in the room immediately stand and we notice more guns.
Radioing and shouting start to ensue between the four.
A group of at least seven other men appear in the building to the south of them and we all realize that we are going to have to start covering a lot more ground to keep our guys protected.
Shots in our direction start ringing out and I don't even bat an eye. The sights on my rifle stay trained on the building and we all start picking guys off one by one.
One man is left, laying low, hiding. I'm so focused on watching that window, waiting for a glimpse of him to show that I barely register the shouts happening around me. I roll my body to the side, just as an RPG round blasts through the window on the far side of the room we are in.
Mother fucker.
The room shakes, as shrapnel flies. The curse words start flowing through the room as everyone scrambles to get our shit and get out of here. Not only do we have a target on our backs but this room is completely unstable. Five seconds later and another one hits the same spot as the first.
Smoke and debris fill the air, but it doesn't impact our routine. Everyone stays low, moving quickly and efficiently.
It isn't until I'm almost completely packed that I notice the blood covering the floor. I do a quick glance over myself and then look out at the room. Keller and Drew are shoving gear into their packs as fast as they can. Lincoln sits against the far wall, radioing in for backup.
"Who’s hit!" I growl out, nearly shouting at them.
Drew and Keller both look to me, then to the blood on the floor, then at each other.
Lincoln makes eye contact with me, then down at his leg. I zero on the blood soaking through the left side of his torn pants. He's still giving off coordinates and instructions like he isn't bleeding out all over the floor.
My body's automatic response is anger. A new hit of adrenaline pumps through my body. The chutzpah he has to not let us know he's been hit has me ready to rage.
I march over with my med bag, so that I can get a better look. I'm not the medic on our team and it's been a while since that was my role, but I at least have the training. Drew takes the radio from Lincoln, shaking his head. He's clearly as pissed as I am, but neither of us call him out on it.
The wound on the side of his upper thigh is pouring blood like someone turned on a faucet. His entire body is already turning a dangerous shade of white from the blood loss.
"You're not going to like this." He needs a tourniquet and surgery. Which means he's getting a med-evac out of here, no matter what.
"Just fucking do it." His normal gruff tone sounds hollow. I can guarantee if it weren't for the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he'd have passed out already.
Unzipping the small med bag that I never leave without, I pull out the tourniquet and get to work as fast as I can.
Trying to treat a nightmare of a wound in a nightmare of a situation.
At this point, I don't even know if his leg will be salvageable by the time he gets to the operating room or if he will even make it there.
I don't have time to dwell on it though, Linc’s evac is about to arrive. Guns blazing.
I throw Lincoln over my shoulder as Drew and Keller take point to cover us.
We've got a dark narrow hallway to get down, and then once we are out we need to get to the back of the building.
The only problem being we will be completely exposed the second that door opens.
We have to plan it just right so that the Apache we called in can be our distraction.
It'll rain hellfire like no other to clear the way for the Black Hawk.
We all move in sync, letting our muscle memory take over. The door stays closed as we wait for the signal.
"Party in ten, gentleman." Comes through and I almost grin. That guy is saving our ass and he sounds a whole hell of a lot like Everett. I don't know if it's him, but I guarantee we'll never hear the end of it, if it was.
On cue, ten seconds later we hear the signature sound of laser-guided hellfire missiles hitting the coordinates we called in. Drew opens the door, nods and we all file through. Sticking close to the side of the building as we make our way around it.
Within thirty seconds, we hear the familiar buzz of a Black Hawk. It doesn’t even land, just hovers as two men start propelling down.
I gently set him down and then squeeze his shoulder. His eyes are open and staring at me but the way his lips are quivering tells me even he knows how bad this is.
"Don't you dare give up, Linc. You see that light you turn the fuck around." I know he can't hear me, but it needs to be said. "See ya soon, brother."
With a nod, I back away and let the medics do what they need to. Once he’s safely in the bird, I watch as it flies away. It takes no time at all before it’s gotten the hell out of here as fast as it could.
I make eye contact with Drew. A silent conversation about how messed up this entire situation passes between us.
Keller starts giving commands, and we both start moving again.
Back to the shitshow that has become our life.
Happy fucking birthday to me.