Coming In Hot #3
Quickly, Simo came to and realized he was still holding onto the two men’s feet and his hands were buried under himself.
He worked his hands through the burning hot sand up toward his chest and began to push himself up, when a second, even louder blast violently shook the ground, pushing Simo down deeper into the sand.
The bees were joined by what seemed like the bells of Notre Dame ringing in his head as more heat rushed over them.
Simo fought the darkness of unconsciousness beckoning him to give in.
Resisting the seduction, he fought to push himself up and managed to roll onto his side and began spitting out sand.
He did his best to brush the sand from his face before opening his eyes.
Slowly, he cracked his eyes open. He glanced down and saw that the Marine’s face was covered in sand and soot.
Reaching over, he brushed it away, then checked on Booker.
The man was still out, and Simo finally saw the red stain and bullet hole that went through Mike’s jacket and ballistic vest. With a groan, Simo found the Colt Commando and looked east. He was welcomed by the sight of the charred, burning remains of the Tahoe.
Past that, he saw another pillar of black, billowing smoke.
He guessed it was the Mercedes and looked skyward.
He didn’t see Mike’s Apache helicopter anywhere.
Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he kept his attention on the burning Tahoe.
He wasn’t going to let his guard down until help arrived.
Moving over to Booker, he checked the wound in his chest. Peering under the vest, he saw that there was already a HemCon bandage covering the bullet wound.
He checked Booker’s breathing, and it seemed labored.
Simo knew Mike’s chest cavity was filling with blood that would soon constrict his lungs.
A shadow passing overhead caused him to look up, and then the downdraft from the helo washed over him.
He covered his eyes and was surprised he could hardly hear the helo as it landed in the desert a few hundred yards from them.
Within moments, a group of USAF Security Forces soldiers came into view with their weapons drawn and aimed right at him.
Simo very slowly raised his hands. He could see they were shouting commands at him, but he couldn’t make out their words through the cacophony of bees and bells going on in his ears.
He pointed at his ears and shook his head.
Then the lead soldier pointed at the Colt Commando in his lap.
Simo pointed at it and got a nod and the gesture to throw it away.
He did as the Air Force lieutenant gestured.
Then Simo pointed toward his back and made a gun gesture.
Another gesture to slowly remove it. Simo held his .
44 out away from himself, dropped the magazine in the sand, ejected the chambered round, and held the .
44 butt-first toward the Air Force Security squad.
Slowly they approached, and he handed his .
44 to the first soldier, then put his hands up and yelled, “I want that back, do you understand me?” He got a nod.
Then Simo pointed to Booker and the Marine.
“They are injured. Your airman and Booker’s VIP are down there…
” Simo watched as two medics swarmed over Mike and the Marine.
Simo was asked for his identification and handed over his Greek passport, California driver’s license, concealed carry permit, and, lastly, his temporary DoD credentials.
Simo made out what the lieutenant was asking and replied, “Contractor. Mike Booker is my contact. Amir Iravani is our VIP. He needs round-the-clock security.” He pointed at the smoldering Tahoe. “Obviously…” Simo watched the lieutenant step away and begin talking into his radio.
Next, a medic was in front of him, yelling, “SIR! Are you injured?”
Simo shook his head. “Tired.”
“I need to check you, ok?”
Simo nodded as the medic began checking him over. When he was done, it took the medic and a much more relaxed lieutenant to get him to his feet.
Simo watched as Booker and the Marine were placed on litters and rushed to the waiting helo.
“SIR! Come this way, please?” The lieutenant directed Simo toward where he could see Iravani and the airman.
As Simo made his way over with the lieutenant, his driver, the airman, stood and saluted the lieutenant, then did the same to Simo. Simo nodded and returned the salute.
“My hearing is coming around,” Simo said loudly.
“Good. We will be taking you back to our base shortly.” The lieutenant eyed Simo for a moment, then reached behind him and handed Simo back his .44 and clip. “Sir, please keep it unloaded unless we are in need.”
Simo nodded and placed the .44 back behind his waistband. He looked down to put the magazine in his pocket, then noticed the blood and gore from the mangled bodies of the shooters.
The lieutenant saw where Simo was looking and shouted through a wry grin, “Quite the mess you made. Much deserved, if I may say…”
Simo nodded and watched as another helo began to approach and land.