Red Sands, page 21
Keaton’s eyes locked with his. “How big is the shower?”
Finn grinned. “Big enough.”
Keaton smiled. “Maybe. But are you sure?”
“No,” Finn said. “Let’s test my hypothesis.”
Finn went over to close and lock the door before following a trail of clothes into the spacious bathroom where the water was already running. He could see a blurry vision of Keaton’s naked body through the frosted glass and felt himself respond. Would that offend her? Finn didn’t think so.
Keaton was already wet as he entered the shower. The water was warm. That was when Finn realized that the tattoos covered most of her body. Names, Hundreds of names. They covered her breasts, her abdomen, and her legs. “You’re beautiful,” Finn said, as he took her into his arms. “Very, very beautiful.”
The kiss lasted a long time. A period of mutual exploration followed. Finn’s soap-slick hands wandered, Keaton made little noises, and it felt natural to lift her up. Then, joined as only lovers can be, they found the right rhythm.
What followed was a release that left both gasping as the water continued to pummel them. “That,” Keaton said, “was worth waiting for.”
Finn responded by carrying her out of the shower, and into the bedroom, where he placed her on the bed. Then they made love all over again except more slowly. And while the culmination of their lovemaking was less spectacular, it was no less satisfying, and left each sated. They lay entwined, breathing as one, until both fell asleep.
Finn awoke to discover that Keaton was gone. He was processing the sense of loss when his radio squawked. “Alpha-Six, this is Seven … The Afghans are massing for an attack. Over.”
Finn felt a stab of guilt. He put it aside. I don’t regret it, he thought. I never will.
“This is Six actual. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Out.”
It actually took fifteen minutes for Finn to brush his teeth, get dressed, and gun up. Owens, Pinnick, and a radio operator were present when Finn arrived at the top of the castle’s northeast tower. The sky was a beautiful lavender color, the sun was peeking up over the eastern horizon, and the air was chilly. “Take a look,” Owens said, as she passed her binoculars to Flynn. “Tell me what you think.”
Finn panned from left to right. Multiple ranks of gun trucks were lined up, facing the castle, each loaded with soldiers and ready to roll. They’ll use the pickups to deliver a lot of troops in a short period of time, Finn mused.
Then the armored personnel carriers will arrive carrying more soldiers, and they’ll swarm us. Our planes will kill hundreds of them. But once they’re on the slopes, and climbing upwards, the A-10s won’t be able to fire on them without hitting us. Can something like two hundred Allied troops stop more than two-thousand Afghans? We’re about to find out.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Finn said. “But we’d be stupid to wait for the inevitable. Turn the hogs loose.”
Finn lowered the binoculars and addressed Owens. “Put out the word … Attack imminent … Prepare to engage infantry.”
The orders had a retro sound. Like something an officer on either side might have said at Waterloo. And the coming battle promised to be just as desperate.
***
After receiving the clearance from Alpha-Two, Captain Linda Axeton, AKA “The Ax,” wasted no time aiming her Warthog at the enemy formation, and attacking from west to east. Unguided Mark 80 “iron” bombs fell from her wings and tumbled towards the massed targets below.
Trucks, APCs, and tanks disappeared inside blossoms of red-orange flames as she and her wingman completed their runs. But as Axeton banked to the right, and fired chaff, she could see that the enemy formation was in motion.
From the pilot’s perspective the enemy attack looked like a long uneven wave. And, as it raced toward the fort, the human tsunami flowed around obstructions, coalesced, and continued to roll. There was no time for a gun run.
***
Finn felt sick to his stomach. Contrary to common sense, and any vestige of morality, Wali was willing to throw all of his troops at the castle, knowing that hundreds would die, but confident that a sufficient number would get through.
He turned to Owens. “I’m going down to the curtain wall. That’s where the battle will be won or lost. If it looks like we’re going to be overrun, and you can’t raise me, put out a call for final protective fire. Artillery won’t get it. Not here. But the hogs can lay waste to this pile of shit in a few minutes. And that’s what I want you to ask for. If we can’t take the bombs out of here, we’ll bury them. Do you read me?”
Owens’s face was pale. “Sir, yes sir.”
Finn nodded. “You’re a good officer. I was proud to serve with you.” Then he was gone.
***
The assault began as two enemy trucks raced at each other from opposite sides of the battlefield. Both were equipped with American made smoke generators which produced a smoke screen dense enough to hide the incoming gun trucks from everything—other than infrared targeting devices. The strategy wasn’t perfect, but a lot better than nothing.
Fayez Wali was standing in the back of a pickup truck racing toward his ancestral home. He knew that his presence among the attackers was critical if Afghan soldiers were to summon the courage necessary to attack Qila Kom in the face of terrible odds.
Was he going to die? Probably. But his grandfather would welcome him into Jannah, and his father was young enough to have another son. So, all was well. He stood with both hands clutching the roll bar and screamed “Allah akbar!” (God is great!) at the top of his lungs.
The wind whipped the words away, but Fayez didn’t care. He knew that Allah would hear them even if no one else did.
The truck hit a rock, bounced, and threw a soldier into the air. His death was concealed by the roiling smoke and chaos all around.
Gunners were firing blindly by then, hoping that a hail of bullets would bring some of the infidels down, and make the final assault that much easier.
Unfortunately for them the American Bradleys could “see” the oncoming vics through the smoke screen, and target them. A burst of defensive fire hit the Toyota to the right of Fayez and killed the driver.
The driverless truck swerved to the right, where it struck another vehicle, and flipped. Bodies spilled onto the sand, and a gas tank exploded, hurling shards of razor-sharp shrapnel in every direction. Then the smoke closed around the collision, causing it to disappear.
Fayez couldn’t see the castle, but knew the truck was getting closer, and felt a sense of anticipation. He’d grown up in Qila Kom. He knew every square foot of the fort and the slopes that surrounded it. Assuming he and his handpicked team of red hats survived the journey, Fayez had orders to lead his fighters through the mantraps, and kill the American commander.
“The best way to kill a snake is to remove its head.” That’s what his father had told him. And, if Fayez could accomplish that, the invaders would lose heart and surrender.
The truck skidded to a stop and Fayez turned to his men. It was necessary to shout to be heard. “Use stealth! Don’t fire unless I fire! And remember, our goal is to find Alpha-Six and kill him. The rest of them don’t matter. Follow me.”
***
Finn was standing on a flat area located at the top of the curtain wall. What looked like a junkyard was revealed as the smoke started to dissipate. Toyota pickups were parked every which way. Some were upside down. Others were burning. Bodies sat in some of them. Other Afghan soldiers were sprawled in the dirt where they’d been gunned down from the heights above. And that was a good thing. From Finn’s point of view anyway.
Unfortunately, hundreds of Afghan soldiers, perhaps as many as a thousand, had survived the dangerous trip to the castle. And they were starting to climb the scree covered slope that led to the curtain wall. Do we have enough bullets? Finn wondered. Will we have to fight them with knives? He thumbed his radio. “This is Alpha-Six. Aimed fire only! Three round bursts! Conserve ammo. Over.”
The bursts of automatic fire stopped and were replaced by the clack, clack, clack sound that M4 carbines made, overlaid by the rattle of LMGs, and the distinctive blam, blam, blam produced by the Bradleys.
Finn watched with a sense of satisfaction as the outgoing fire ploughed holes through the Afghans who continued to struggle upwards. He couldn’t help but admire their courage as bullets splattered the rocks and their boots fought for purchase. He raised his M4, and was about to fire, when Owens spoke. “Alpha Six, this is Seven. Be advised that a company strength detachment of tangos circled around the fort and are attacking from the swamp. We need the fast reaction force, and we need ’em now! Over.”
Finn swore. He had assumed that the swamp would be a sufficient obstacle. But some enterprising officer, perhaps Wali himself, was taking advantage of the opening, no matter how difficult.
If the Afghans managed to climb the slope quickly enough, they would be able to overwhelm the thirty-plus Americans, who were supposed to hold the southern flank and do so without the support of a Bradley. “Roger that, Seven. The 3rd platoon, Charlie Company, will respond. Out.”
Charlie Company was comprised entirely of Scots. And the 3rd platoon was under the command of 2nd Lieutenant Stewart, an up-and-coming lad with no combat experience. Not any more, Finn mused. He’s about to become an expert. If he survives.
***
Fayez was careful to make use of all available cover as he led the red hats upslope. Occasional boulders, a clutch of hardy bushes, and an ancient gun position offered brief respites from the devastating fire sweeping the hillside.
Fortunately, his goal was only halfway up the slope, and barely noticeable when it wasn’t raining. The pipe was one of many designed to funnel water through the castle’s system of drains and outfalls. They were big pipes the way Fayez remembered them.
But, when he found the outfall, and began to crawl inside, the tube felt tight. I was a boy, Fayez realized, as he turned his headlamp on. And a lot smaller.
The sides of the pipe scraped against Fayez’s shoulders as he inched his way forward. Snakes. What if I encounter a snake?
But it was too late to worry about that. Focus, Fayez told himself. Watch for the vertical drain. It took five minutes’ worth of painful crawling to reach the splash of sunlight that marked the junction he was looking for.
Fayez had to remove his rifle from his back and hold it over his head in order to stand and push his way upwards. He could see the sky above and that gave him hope.
An iron rung scraped his chest, followed by another and another, as Fayez began to climb. The light grew brighter.
***
Finn wanted to be everywhere but that was impossible. And, since the fiercest fighting was still taking place on the north side of the castle, that’s where he was, along with Lieutenant Pinnick, First Sergeant Dyson, and Benjamin Yusef. A man Finn didn’t entirely trust, but had proven himself useful, and was clearly scared of Wali.
Shouts were heard as a brave Afghan officer sought to rally his men. He appeared from behind a boulder and began to climb. A wave of soldiers followed. Bullets snapped past his head, and chipped the rocks next to his boots, but to no effect. It was as if the officer was protected by an invisible force field. Or Allah himself.
The officer’s bravery didn’t go unnoticed. A second wave of soldiers followed the first. They used the bodies of those who had gone before as stepping stones. Some were still alive. They cried out in pain but their voices went unheeded.
Meanwhile the first rank was firing their weapons on full auto. That forced the defenders to duck. And noncoms shouted encouragement. “For Allah! For Afghanistan! Kill them!”
Because about a dozen Allied soldiers had been killed on the fort’s north side, there were gaps in the defensive line. “Follow me!” Finn said as he hurried to fill a hole. “Stop the bastards!” The command party knelt and opened fire. That included Yusef, who had an AK, and clearly knew how to use it.
We’re going to be overrun, Finn thought, as he emptied a magazine. And once they come over the edge, we’ll be fighting hand-to-hand.
A second magazine went in smoothly. And, as the seemingly unstoppable Afghan officer came at him, Finn fired. The three round burst hit the enemy officer’s face. Blood misted the air and the Afghan performed a pirouette as he fell.
The attacking soldiers wavered as their officer collapsed and his body slid downhill. Then they broke, attempted to retreat, and ran into the second wave. “Fire!” Finn shouted. “Take them down!”
The response was everything Finn was hoping for. Those who were firing downslope continued to do so. Soldiers who’d been hunkered down popped up. And the Bradleys were on the job. Thousands of bullets swept the hillside. The Afghans had to take cover. The attack stalled.
When Finn pulled back the rest of the command group did likewise. In order to maintain situational awareness, and provide leadership, they had to stay in touch with the big picture. “Run a check,” Finn ordered. “I want a sitrep from every sector.”
***
A grating was blocking the way. To dislodge it Fayez had to make room for his M4 rifle. Then, with both boots planted on an iron rung, he pushed. There was no movement. Fayez swore.
It would have been nice to bring a red hat up to help out, but there wasn’t enough room. The solution, whatever it was, would have to come from him.
A joint ran all around the grating. Fayez managed to draw his combat knife. Then, using the blob of light from his headlamp, he went to work scraping glue-like muck out of the crevice. It took three minutes of hard work to clean out the material.
Finally, when the blade circled around to the point where the task had begun, Fayez placed the knife between his teeth. He then put both palms on the bottom of the grating and pushed.
Nothing happened at first. Fayez tried again. Suddenly, without warning, the lid popped free! That was an important moment. Was Allah with him? Or was an infidel standing next to the grating? If that was the case Fayez was only seconds away from Jannah.
But there was no response. So, Fayez forced himself up one rung, pushed the grating out of the way, and hurried to wiggle free. The red hats followed. Once all four men were on the surface, he replaced the lid and paused to look around.
Fayez was exactly where he expected to be. Which was in a corner of the inner courtyard. It was packed with enemy support vehicles.
Like Fayez, the red hats were dressed in American uniforms. And thanks to how diverse the American military was, the invaders wouldn’t be alarmed by the presence of an Afghan and three black men. “Follow me,” Fayez ordered. “And keep your mouths shut.”
So far, so good. They were inside the castle. The next step was to locate Alpha-Six. Fayez didn’t know the American’s name. Just his call sign. He had a grasp on basic military slang though … And figured that would be enough to get him through.
After meandering between vehicles Fayez came across two privates who had removed a crate from the back of a truck and were about to carry it away. “Hey,” Fayez said. “We have orders to report to the CO … Do you know where he is?”
One of the men frowned, as if trying to remember who Fayez was. “Yeah,” the soldier replied. “He’s on the northside of the hill, on top of the curtain wall. Or he was the last time I saw him.”
“Thanks,” Fayez said. “Come on guys, on the double.”
Fayez could feel the American’s eyes on his back as he jogged away. This is it, Fayez thought. This is how the last minutes of my life will be spent. At least I’m here, fighting for Qila Kom, and for my country.
Fayez led the others along the shortest possible route to the curtain wall. The infidels had their backs to him. Had he been free to do so, Fayez could have killed at least a dozen of them. But that wasn’t the case.
There, up ahead, was a group of men and one woman. That was typical of the Americans. Women were good for lots of things but fighting wasn’t one of them.
“Get ready,” Fayez said. “We’ll kill them all!”
***
Owens was on the radio. “We won’t be able to hold much longer,” the XO warned Finn. “I think you should bring the hogs in. Tell them to keep their fire on the slopes if they can. I’ll tell my people to take cover. Over.”
“Roger that,” Finn replied. He was turning to give Pinnick the necessary order, when a bullet struck Dyson’s forehead and blew the back of his skull out. The sound of the shot was lost in a fusillade of fire as four Americans opened fire on the command party.
“It’s Fayez Wali!” Yusef shouted while he returned fire.
The words meant nothing to Finn as bullets tugged at his clothing and his M4 came up. The carbine seemed to weigh a thousand pounds and took forever to rise.
Finally, when Finn thought the weapon might be aligned with the targets, he squeezed the trigger. He saw a black man fall when bullets tore through his throat.
Then a burst of slugs knocked Finn over. But, thanks to the ceramic plate slotted into the officer’s body armor, none of the bullets managed to reach his flesh. But Finn had the breath knocked out of him, and was gasping for air.
Lieutenant Pinnick was firing, as was Finn’s radio operator, and the combined fire was enough to bring the rest of the attackers down.
That was when Yusef went forward to stand over the single Afghan. The man had been hit, but was still alive. “So,” Yusef said. “Your father sent you to do his work.”
Fayez struggled to speak. “Fuck you.”
Finn saw the tableau and was about to shout “No!” when Yusef fired.
Then, before Finn could order Pinnick to arrest Yusef, an A-10 roared overhead. The plane’s GAU-8/A Avenger autocannon produced an angry buzzing sound as it attacked the south slope and the swamp beyond.
That was when Finn remembered Dyson. He turned and went back to where the noncom lay sprawled in the dirt. Sightless eyes stared up into the sun. The Top Kick had been crucial to getting the team through. Now he was gone.
Finn felt a tightness in his throat as he knelt to close Dyson’s eyes. Then he stood. They were after me, Finn thought. And Wali was willing to sacrifice his son to get the job done.
