Prologue

Saturday March the 1^st

Lieutenant Andrew Brakes

I raised my left fist up and crouched by the edge of the building. My M-16 clutched in my right hand as I was scanned the buildings around me. The guide pointed at the building across the way from me and whispered in my ear.

"Al-Qaida inside. Three, four men with explosives and machineguns," the man said.

"You sure, Azim?" I asked as I looked around for any danger.

"Yes, everyone knows they are there. But they afraid to do anything," Azim Hussein said.

"Ok, you stay back here, let us deal with them," I said and pointed to two of my men and pointed to the left side of the building. I quickly repeated my orders to the squad and they spread out to surround the building.

Calling my radio operator up, I relayed my Intel to the base and said we were going in. I told them I was leaving half the squad as reserves. I crossed the street using the cars parked on the side of the road and started inching along the mud-bricked walls.

We reached the alley next to the target house and two of my men ducked into the alley. I looked back at Corporal Isaac Washington, from New York City who grinned at me.

"I got your back, Sir," the big black said as he clutched the M-243 in his massive hands. Its drum magazine was packed with 5.56mm death, if it didn't jam on us like they usually did.

Nodding my head, I darted across the alley and to the corner of the house. Moving down the wall, I ducked under the window as Isaac stopped to cover me in case it gets nasty inside. Stopping at the door, I pulled a flash grenade, looked at Isaac and kicked the door in.

I awoke three hours later, chained, and in the back of a bouncing pickup. I couldn't see anything, and I hurt all over. With a groan, I tried to sit up, but a gun butt hit my side and I fell back over.

"Don't move, Sir, they got ... uggg," Isaac's voice was cut off as he was hit.

A voice snarled in Farsi telling him to shut the hell up or they would kill him.

'Shit! How the fuck do we get out of this? What the hell happened?' I thought to myself. I remember kicking the door in, tossing the grenade and then nothing. We drove for what must have been hours, I heard us go through several checkpoints. I knew they were manned by our men, because when we pulled up to them, knives were placed at our throats. We were told not to say a word.

I knew by now that the word must be out that we were missing, captured and presumed dead. My mind raced on how to let anyone know we were alive, and I couldn't think of anything.

The car came to a stop and we were told to stand. The hoods were pulled off and we saw a wall of fruit baskets in front of us that was quickly removed from in front of us and I saw we were in a warehouse. We were dragged out and I saw there were only three of us left out of the squad.

Private John Grant looked bad. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds. Isaac had five or six and I could feel about seven wet spots on my body. I nodded to my men, and before I could say anything a butt of a rifle hit me in my back and I stumbled forward.

"Move American Dog!" the man said.

We walked about thirty feet and told to stop. We stood there, looking around. Then a grinding noise was heard and the floor in front of us dropped into a ramp. As the ramp was lowering, I was hit in the back of the knees and I went down and started tumbling down the ramp.

I rolled to a stop and I cried out as a big Iraqi lifted me up by my hair. Once I was on my feet I was thrown towards a hallway and another man shoved me through the open door. Behind me I heard the door close.

Day Three of capture,

"Andrew, what is the name of your parents? Where do they live?" shouted the voice.

"Fuck you!" I said.

Pain came as they beat me. I passed out.

Day Six of capture,

"Andrew, what are the names of your parents? Where do they live?" shouted the voice.

"Fuck you!" I said again as I have said every day for six days.

Pain came as they beat me once again and I passed out once more.

Day Twelve of capture,

"Andrew, why do you keep doing this? Just tell us what we want to know and the beatings will stop. What are the names of your parents? Where do they live? What is their address?" shouted the voice again.

"Why? Why do you want to know?" I cried out.

"So you can send them a letter. Do you think we like doing this to you? This is not what the holy book teaches us. Let us have the address so you can send a letter to them, saying you are alive. Do this and the beatings will stop. I promise you on my word of honor. I'm sorry I wasn't here to stop the others from beating you. But I am here now and no more will happen. But you must help me help you. I will let the medic see to your injuries now. I promise you no more beatings," the new voice said.

I whimpered in pain and mumbled out my parents' address and name just to get the beatings to stop. I screamed in agony as the fingers on my left hand were set and bound in plaster.

"Andrew, they will take you back to your cell to rest. Later you will be allowed to send a letter to your family. In a couple of days, we will send a video too, showing them you are alive. But first we will get your wounds looked at. I will have our doctor come examine you later," he said and turned away and stopped.

Turning back he continued, "I am sorry to tell you your man Grant didn't make it. He died of his wounds. We tried to stop his bleeding, but there was a nick in one of his arteries that we didn't know about. We had his body placed so your people could recover him."

I hung my head as I was led away to my cell. Sitting down on the bed I sobbed for the first time in my life. I had broken down and given something away. I know it wasn't a military secret, but why did they want my parent's names and address? I was wondering what else they would want next.

The next few days went quickly by, I was fed and my wounds seen too. I was allowed a shower for the first time in two weeks. I wondered about the structure I was in, and I was told it was an old interrogation building that wasn't on the map. It was only known by three people, in the old government, and two of them were now dead.

Chapter 1 »