CHAPTER 16
It was instinctive. In one fluid motion, my left arm brought the gunsight to my field of view.
I slightly adjusted the ACOG’s tritium-illuminated reticle pattern to directly in line with the head of the guy with the RPG.
It was only a forty-meter shot. I pulled the trigger without hesitation.
I actually launched a controlled pair, which hit the target in a nanosecond.
Without taking a second breath, I moved my sights to the target beside him and squeezed another two. I felt the rounds from John Paul Kennedy’s gun whistle by my right shoulder at the same time. There was no doubt that his bullets hit the mark as well.
As we ran toward the passenger side of the disabled vehicle, we could hear Meg and Oliver shooting on the opposite side. No talking, no radio communications, just the sounds of deadly American gunfire. JP and I made a quick search for other hostiles in the area. Nothing to the south.
As JP scanned the area for signs of the enemy, I approached the vehicle. I could see some movement.
I ripped off the American flag Velcroed to my body armor and pushed it to the view of the passenger. I didn’t want him getting more spooked and inadvertently shooting me.
I over-enunciated through the window: “We’re the good guys. You’re gonna be okay.”
Oliver reported from the north side of the vehicle. “I’ve got three enemy dead, one enemy wounded we’re taking prisoner, and one fucking got away.”
“Roger, copy, we have two enemy dead on the south side. Anything ahead?” I asked.
“Negative. I see some movement, and—stand by, I see some troops coming.”
About the time I heard the call I saw some soldiers moving in a tactical formation toward us, weapons raised. I waved my arms and shouted, “Americans!” I held up my flag again so they wouldn’t send any rounds in my direction.
Fortunately, I saw them lower their weapons. Rudy, our medic, was already inside the vehicle, checking on the wounded soldiers. I heard him say no friendlies were dead, but the machine gunner was pretty banged up.
The approaching soldiers moved toward us in a fan so as to cover the entire area and provide security. I recognized the leader of the group, a staff sergeant who immediately gave the scene a once-over. He trotted up to me. “You okay, sir?”
“Roger. What’s the status ahead?”
“Fucking ambushed the convoy. Put a decoy between the last vehicle and the rest of the convoy, then hit us. They hit a secondary on the major’s truck. He’s a little hurt but gonna be okay. I told the major I’d check back here. Our comms suck and we have the damn CNN reporters up there too.”
“Yeah, no shit—I couldn’t reach anyone on our net. No other casualties?”
“Nah, they hit and ran,” said the sergeant, glancing around.
“At least some of them did. Good shooting, sir. We need to get this unfucked and head out. I got another vehicle backing up to tow this thing home. Fucking lucky none of us are dead, that’s for sure.
All the air is tied up with the fucking general’s bullshit.
Fuck me, this sucks. Savages. Where’s the prisoner? ”
I pointed to where Meg was kneeling over the captured terrorist. She and Oliver had secured his hands behind his back with plastic zip ties. Her knee was resting squarely on the guy’s back as she scanned the area for more targets.
The whole place was deserted—not an Iraqi man, woman, or child in sight. They had scattered either right before the ambush or as soon as the fireworks began. No matter what any of the locals knew or had seen, none of them were going to give us any information about the attack.
“No doubt they were gonna snag one of us.” The staff sergeant spoke into his radio and gave a quick brief to someone on the other end. I could see his face wince when he was finished.
“Sir, we’re going to tow this thing back to the base and bring you all to the brigade headquarters.”
“Got it,” I said. “We’ll figure something out. Thanks for the support.”
“For what it’s worth,” the soldier said, “thanks for helping Sergeant Carnes and his guys. No shit they’d be dead and gone if it wasn’t for you all.”