Chapter 18: All Ye, All Ye, In Come Free

The law of sacrifice is uniform throughout the world. To be effective it demands the sacrifice of the bravest and the most spotless

Mohandas Gandhi

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter on ground at Cave

Tues., June, 26 9:25 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 16:55:00 (Zulu)

Failure... a hard word for an elite team like this one to swallow but there it was, the rescue operation had failed. The entire team was retreating back aboard the Pave Low Helicopter with the discipline of professionals, but with the slight reluctance of dedicated men returning empty handed from a mission.

Karl Jager was wrestling with his conscience and his self confidence. He was convinced that they were making a mistake, but as the lone civilian, he was reluctant to speak out. He felt sure he knew where to look for the missing journalists. Could he convince Dave Worthy or would he just look foolish? Karl knew it wasn't about taking a chance on being embarrassed; it was about loyalty and friendship. Could he ever face Courtney again if he didn't speak up? For a man like Karl, there was only one possible answer. He ran to catch up with Dave Worthy.

"Dave, excuse me, but I know how to find them."

"Please tell me this isn't from a dream or some talking animal."

"No sir, this is from skills I learned from one of the 'most down to earth' men that ever lived."

"I'll probably regret this, but I don't like going home empty handed either, so I'll hear you out." He turned and shouted. "Lt. Barber, would you join us please."

He waited until the SEAL commander had joined them. "Lieutenant, Mr. Jager here thinks he knows how to find our missing journalists. Go ahead, Mr. Jager you've got one minute to sell it." His constant emphasis on the word "Mr." reminded everyone that Karl was the lone civilian on the mission.

"My grandfather was a professional Jaeger, like my name. In German, it means a professional hunter, forest ranger, rifleman and game warden. He was famous for catching poachers, and went around the world training other game wardens. He also taught me. It's a matter of reading a site, figuring who you are dealing with, what they are after and then what they will do."

"Can you read this site?"

"Yes sir, I think I can."

"And all the rest, including figuring out where they went."

"I believe it's all here if I can have a little assistance."

"Shit, what do we have to lose? Nobody's chasing us off yet. Let's hear it Jager."

"I'd like to get a man up on the hill to look for sniper pits, and I'd like a man to follow these truck tracks to see if one splits off from the rest and heads west."

Lt. Barber barked out. "Bradley, get the ATV; follow these tracks just to the end of the gulley; see if one splits west. If you see any sign of bad guys, get your ass back here. You got 5 minutes max. Carlson, get your butt up that hill; look for sniper pits, back here in five; GO!"

"Okay Jager, now what does all this prove?"

"I'm looking for sniper positions to confirm my assumption that this was no chance encounter. That the raiders knew the prisoners were here and set up an ambush. "

"OK, I can see that. But even so, how do you know where they went."

"Grandfather said that the secret is simply to become the poacher. Assume he's about as intelligent as you, because he most likely is. Grandfather used to say, 'If he is a whole lot smarter than you, you aren't going to catch him anyway and if he's a lot stupider, he's not going to get away no matter what.'"

"Okay, Jager," David Worthy said, "Let's say for argument's sake that you're commanding the raiding party. What do you do with the prisoners?"

"I think Carlson is going to find indications that the raiders were a small group of ten men or less. They planned to rescue the prisoners, but they also planned to raid the Taliban camp and blow up the ammo and fuel. They're not going to take a bunch of civilians with them to do that, nor are they in a position to give them an escort. I think I would give them a vehicle, probably a truck, possibly an experienced driver, tell them to lay low until the fireworks start, and then to drive west like the devil was after them. If they survive the ride, they will be deep into tribal lands by sunrise, where neither the government nor the Taliban hold much control. Then I'd tell them to try to get across the border."

Bradley came to a skidding stop with the little black ATV. "Yes sir, as soon as the tracks leave the ravine, they all head towards the Taliban camp, with the exception of one that turns one eighty and takes off due west."

"There's one count on your side," said Lt. Barber. "Let's see what Carlson found."

The SEAL, having completed his survey of the hill top, returned at a full run. "Someone was dug in on the hill, and very well camouflaged," he reported. "They were not amateurs; most likely veterans of the war with Russia. I'd guess seven men, dug in for about four days."

"OK, Jager, you're batting a thousand, so now you think we need to find the truck?"

"Yes sir, if I'm right, any truck running hard west without lights is very likely them."

"Would it surprise you to hear that we passed over a vehicle fitting that exact description on the way in about eight klicks west of here?"

"That's got to be them. I'd stake my life on it."

"You may get the chance." Turning away he signaled to Lt. Barber.

On their commander's signal, the SEAL team pulled in their perimeter and got aboard. Lt. Barber made sure every one was accounted for, and then turned control back over to the pilot and the aircrew. In a matter of seconds, the huge helicopter quietly lifted off, and after a quick circuit looking for immediate threats, headed west.

David Worthy signaled Karl over to where they could talk over the noise inside the machine. "This is your show now; I want you up on the flight deck with the FLIR and RADAR operators so you all can coordinate what you're looking for. And remember, fuel and darkness are not unlimited, so we can't take too long at this."

In The Truck

Tues., June, 26 9:45 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:15:00 (Zulu)

The wild ride continued through the knight. Darryl thought back to some off-road jeep trips he had made with friends in the Colorado Rockies. They had seemed the pinnacle of high adventure at the time, but they were tame in comparison to this night's ride. Unquestionably, Ayman's skills would have made him a champion in the competitive sport. Darryl was continually amazed at his uncanny ability to find a navigable route through the rocky terrain, while maintaining the constant high rate of speed. With anyone else at the wheel, the truck would have been a crumpled heap of steaming metal by now and the passengers would have been strewn out along the path.

They had seen no sign of humans, since the giant helicopter flew over them at low altitude, and that was exactly what they hoped for. Unfortunately, their hopes were soon dashed. The old dried arroyo they were following happened to cross a dirt road. Ayman stopped for a moment, trying to determine where the road went. He had to judge whether the greater danger of being spotted outweighed the tremendous increase in speed. The road was, in fact, only infrequently patrolled by the Taliban, but as fate would have it, one of the rare patrols was fast approaching, The headlight glow from the three vehicles gave a few seconds warning; just time enough for Ayman to get back in and power them quickly off the road back into the river bed. The question now was whether they had been spotted. Darryl braced Azalea, who had outstanding night vision, so that she could look backward through the rear window.

Azalea gave a running commentary. "They're coming up to where we crossed... oh, oh they stopped. They must have spotted something suspicious. They're just sitting there, probably calling for orders." They continued on watching for any change. "They're moving again... it looks like they're going on down the road. Maybe we weren't important enough. No, wait; that's odd. I only see two sets of headlights. I wonder where the third is."

"Left guarding the road in case we double back," speculated Darryl.

Ayman looked skeptical when Azalea related their conclusions, but said nothing. Instead he brought the truck to a quick halt, shut off the engine and motioned them into silence. Somewhere behind them came the unmistakable sounds of another vehicle making its torturous way over the rugged ground. Ayman restarted their vehicle and took off all the faster.

He carried on a conversation with Azalea and then sat there impassively as she translated it to Darryl. "Ayman says they spotted us and have sent one vehicle in pursuit without headlights, to make sure we don't double back. From the sounds, Ayman says they are moving a lot slower and are no immediate threat. He is more concerned about the other two."

"Why, if they just kept on the road?"

"That's the point. Roads and rivers in these hills wind around constantly. Ayman figures they went on because they know that somewhere ahead, the road crosses the river again and they'll be waiting for us there. The guy behind us will make sure that we're driven into the net."

"Shit, what chance do we have against three truckloads of soldiers?"

"Ayman figures our best chance is to go as fast as possible, and get to the crossing before them or charge on through them."

"Sounds a little flimsy, doesn't it?"

"He said it's our best chance; he never said it was a good chance."

MH-53J Pave Low Helicopter
Tues., June, 26 10:00 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:30:00 (Zulu)

Karl examined the terrain through the FLIR unit until he found what he was looking for. "There, that's it, an arroyo, a dried river bed. And it's heading due west; follow that."

"You got it," said the pilot, "but why did you look for a river bed?"

"Rivers usually carve a flatter route and tend to have a smoother bottom than the surrounding countryside, especially here where they were mainly carved by floods."

Using the invisible probes of radar and infrared the Pave Low flew through the night in pursuit of its quarry.

"Skipper," reported the FLIR operator, "we are passing the GPS point where we flew over the truck coming in. It was in this arroyo."

"Way to go, Jager," said the pilot, "you've sold me." They continued to follow the dried river bed. At one point they crossed over an intersecting road.

"Skipper, said the FLIR operator, "I've got a vehicle, check that, I've got multiple vehicles. Can you bring us up so I can get a better look?"

"Coming up"

"That's enough. OK, here's what I've got. Just beyond the point where the arroyo crosses a road I have two vehicles traveling in the arroyo without lights, the one in front traveling a good bit faster than the one behind. I have two more vehicles traveling at a high rate of speed on the highway which roughly parallels the arroyo."

"I'm looking at a high resolution targeting map," said the co-pilot, "That road crosses the arroyo about 10 klicks further down. Dollars to Aunt Sally's underwear our target is that faster vehicle in the arroyo and they're headed for an ambush."

"It's your show now Karl," said the pilot, "How do you read this, and what're your orders?"

"I agree, it's them in the first truck;, they were seen when they crossed the road and are now being trapped. Question is, can we get to them first?"

"It's going to be tight, but I think we have a shot; I'll pour on the coal."

Pouring on the coal in this case meant sending out 4,330 shaft horsepower from each of the two GE T-64 engines. This resulted in moving some twenty tons of helicopter and crew through the air at 165 miles per hour. During the pursuit, the pilot and Dave Worthy had a quick conference.

As mission commander, Worthy came on the general intercom. "Listen up, in a few minutes we are going to intercept a truck that we believe contains the people we came here to rescue. They have been spotted and are being pursued by a Taliban patrol. This will have to be done quick, quick, quick, before the bad guys arrive. Just grab these people and get them aboard. Remember the Rules of Engagement: we are not at war with the Taliban; you may not fire on them unless: they fire on you first; you can fire in defense to protect your life or to protect the life of an American soldier, but you can't shoot first. Violations of these rules carry severe sanctions. Yeah, I know, I think they suck, too, but those are the rules, obey them. That is all. Good luck!"

The pilot handed a microphone to Karl. "OK, Karl, here's where you really earn your keep. This microphone connects you into an extremely loud outside speaker. When I give the signal, you start making noises that will have them convinced we are their friends. Use their names, familiar things, things that no outsider would know. Do a good job, because I'm going to set this beast right down in front of them, and I don't want them ramming us, or bailing out and bolting into the hinterlands. We'll get one shot at this, and a short one at that."

Karl watched through the front window as they passed over the Taliban pursuit truck. The driver was apparently so startled at having an 88 foot long helicopter fly over his truck at low altitude that he lost control and piled the truck into the embankment. Moments later they caught up with the other truck. About two klicks further on they saw the two trucks on the road reach the river, take up position and turn out their lights. The intercept had to be immediate to have enough room between them and the road block.

"Talk fast, Karl, and make it good," the pilot ordered, "I want to fly straight over them and drop straight down. I need them to stop now if not sooner."

In The Truck

Tues., June, 26 10:10 PM (Local), Tues., June 26 17:40:00 (Zulu)

Cheryl was the first to spot the shadowy shape coming up behind them. She knocked on the rear window to get Darryl and Azalea's attention and pointed it out to them.

"It's got to be that same helicopter from earlier, said Darryl, "I still think it looks like an American Pave Low. I wonder what the hell it's after."

"Are you sure it's not you?" asked Azalea.

"There's no way in hell they could know we're in this truck, even if they are looking for us."

At that moment, as though to contradict him, a loud but familiar voice boomed out of the sky. "Darryl, Darryl Sanders, this is Karl Jager, if you're in that truck, stop immediately; we're here to pick you up. There is a trap ahead; you need to stop now."

Azalea translated to Ayman who asked if she was sure this was legitimate. When she assured him, he braked the truck to a quick stop.

"Are you going to come with us, Ayman?"

"My place is here; I'll stay with the truck. I think I can get around that guy behind us."

"Thank you for all you have done; you saved us all."

"I did what my honor required; whatever happens to me, you will tell Kabir?"

"Of course, faithful friend, and farewell."

As soon as the truck stopped, Darryl went back and helped James and Cheryl get ready. The Pave Low dropped down directly in front of the stopped truck, the rear doors opened, and the ramp fell. The SEAL team immediately rushed out, and as ordered, started loading the refugees with a minimum of ceremony and a maximum of haste.

Unfortunately, in the rush, no one realized that little Nura was the one person that had no idea what was happening. All she knew was that a huge bizarre helicopter had chased them down, yelled something at them, and blocked their path. There were men dressed in black coming at them from it. And now the one thing no one could have predicted happened. Fearless Nura panicked. The little girl who had faced a firing squad without flinching, who had twice said goodbye to her father without a tear, panicked. It's the nature of all children that somewhere there is a bogeyman that they are completely terrified of. Blessedly, these bogeymen are almost always completely imaginary. Nura's bogeyman came from listening to the stories of the warriors she grew up with; veterans of the war against the Russians. They were fairly contemptuous of the typical Russian conscript they fought, but they spoke with respect, even fear when they spoke of the dreaded Spetsnaz, who flew in at night in black helicopters, wearing black clothing and left nothing but death behind. When Nura saw a black helicopter land and spill out men in black uniforms her ultimate nightmare was a reality, and she snapped like an over-tight violin string.

Nura shrieked one word, "Spetsnaz!" And without even taking her precious Oud, she ran off into the rocks as fast as her short legs would carry her.

Suddenly the smooth loading operation came to a halt as first Azalea, and then Darryl exited the helicopter. Dave Worthy shouted, 'What the fuck is the hold up, those Taliban have caught on and are heading this way, why isn't everyone aboard?"

"The little Afghan girl mistook us for Russian Spetsnaz," reported Lt. Barber, "She panicked and ran off into those rocks to hide."

"Oh Christ, We can't stay on the ground much longer, those Taliban trucks are heading this way, I'm sorry, but we may have to leave her."

"I can't leave without her; I made her my responsibility," declared Azalea.

"And Azalea, I will not leave without you. You wouldn't leave me and I can't leave you," said Darryl.

"God damn, folks, I love all this fucking loyalty and all, but you're not getting it. We can't stay on the ground. You'd be throwing your lives away, and the little girl is no better off."

Karl stepped forward. "Listen, Darryl, you know I'm a man of my word, and you can assure Azalea that I am. You guys get aboard, and I swear to you I'll get Nura. I'm a champion triathlon athlete, and no child can out-run me. Dave, look at those rocks. They can't take the truck in after me, and they can't keep up with me on foot. To the east there's an open area they won't be able to get to; I grab Nura and you can pick me up there."