(C-47)
'Fool me once shame on you,
Fool me twice shame on Me.’
‘We, the Leaders don’t make mistakes, just common people do.’
Tyrants, Communists and Leftist philosophy
“I have secured the release of a 60 man Special Forces unit for an operation; all I need now are some of your propositioned assist to complete my plan.”
“Your referring to a sleeper cell, I assume?”
“Yes, the plan calls for at least ten of your operatives. I have the address of the target; it is a rural home but I have no physical description or the exact number of people who will be there. Tell your people to expect less then six people in the home and maybe their having to kill a few pesky neighbors too. If your people plan it right they will be in, kill all the occupants of the home and be out before the neighbors can put on a coat to go and investigate.”
“What about the police?”
“The local county sheriff has nineteen deputies to cover three shifts and weekends. Since the Americans love their 40-hour workweeks, there might be three, at the most four deputies to evade on the way out. We have picked a Friday night for the operation, it’s basketball season and they will be more concerned with security at the High Schools.”
“Do you want these two parts of your plan to happen simultaneously? Or can my people take their time to do a proper plan?”
“My Special Forces people are taking ski lessons right now and their scouting team starts their infiltration early next week. We know that the Kansas Militia has several base camps located some where around here.” He indicated a sizable area just to the north-west of Bridgeport. “Once we have the specific area of these camps, the majority of the SF force will infiltrate and destroy at least a battalion of their people while they are eating the evening meal. Just like they did my Artillery Division,” he said with some anger in his voice and a glare in his eyes.
“Instead of using the few Special Forces you have, why not use the WeiShi 400MM rockets with the fuel-air explosive warheads and wipe out half of the valley they are in?”
“I have a very limited number of the WS-1B or as they are called the WeiShi with the FAE warheads left now, since my main depots in the rear were destroyed by the American cruise missiles last month. A ground attack by us will be completely unexpected, even more so since the Americans have gone on the offensive in that region.”
Kalida can now see that the 25th Army commander wants to exact some revenge on the dogs who hounded most of his southern units back to the west side of the mountains. That is understandable so he lets a slight smile show on his face as he says, “I see.” Then a slight nod of his head as approval, “There is an Americans phrase that seems appropriate for this action. ‘Paybacks are a bitch.’ And you wish to give this man who has tricked you twice a payback, no!”
“I will send his family to hell first, and they can wait for him there,” Jiu Chen almost hissed. He realized that he was showing his anger and quickly regained his composure as he added, “You have twenty days. Your attack is to be coordinated with ours, that way he receives twice the bad news at one time.”
With a wicked smile Kalida chuckled, “I see, you wish to crush his spirit and his ability to continue the fight. Might I suggest, for one of my people to be in their camp that day walking around planting small bombs that go off say thirty minuets before your attack. If they were placed in the right places, like at a fuel supply point or on even on a propane tank at one of their forward kitchens causing as much confusion as possible. That way your men would catch them, ‘with their pants down.’ These Americans have such crud sayings, but they do convey the situation they will be in.”
“How will your man be able to walk around their camp with out being detected?”
With a sly smile Kalida answered, “Not all of my people are son’s of the desert. We have some that have blue eyes and blond hair, these are the soldiers of Allah who are not expected.”
Jiu Chen nodded his head once, he didn’t ask, ‘and how many of your soldiers are Chinese?’
(C-48)
No More Oops Allowed
The BATF&E Fired First
“You killed one of my men in cold blood and now claim it was an accident. I’m not buying that I’m placing your man under arrest and charging him for murder under the UCMJ; he will have a quick trial with over 65 witnesses to tell what happened. I’m sure of the final outcome, and it will be by hanging not a firing squad.” Cody told the senior agent.
“I can’t let you do that, we will hold our man until a US Marshall can be brought forward and server papers on him. Now release him and I mean it.” The lead BATF agents said as the rest of his men all raised their MP5’s, and pointed them at Cody and the other Militiamen holding the one agent.
Eli and six of his men returning from Hawthorne and the Militia rear storage area saw the two stopped medical buses with it's armed escort vehicles, he assumed that one of them had broken down and pulled over to offer assistance. Just as he gets out of the truck he spots the BATF agents with their weapons at the high quarter and tells his four men in the back, “It looks like we have some trouble here. I’ll go forward and make a commotion, I’ll have a live mike on so listen in. I want you to take the AKs we just captured, jump out and spread out, two men to a side and find their back up sniper team. If things go bad, do what you have to.”
“Yes sir,” they answered in unison.
Just as the six agents point their weapons at Cody, Eli rushes up and shouts, “What the hell is going, on don’t point your weapons someone might get hurt.”
“Someone did Major, this son-of-a-bitch I’m holding, shot Ted Owens dead when he refused to turn over his FN for an inspection. They say they are looking for private weapons that have been converted to full auto,” Cody half shouted in anger.
“What? Now you got the piss up, WHO’S THE BLOODIE WANKER THAT DREAMED UP THAT SHIT?” Eli said raising his voice in anger at the agents. “Whose dump arse idea sent you prangs forward to the front, there’s a very nasty war going on around here. Or don’t you F ‘en know that?”
“We have our orders mister, besides we know these Kansas guys. I was in the raid that netted one of their men a few years ago for making full auto weapons,” with a smirk he adds, “once a criminal always a criminal. Besides the state line divides the war zone in California from the combat support units in Nevada. Now clear out or you will be arrested for interfering with federal agents little man.”
Eli didn’t visibly look angered, but the steel sounded hard in his voice as he turned to the agent in charge and said. “You just used a bloody lot of words and you still didn’t say a thing. I’ve just returned from tracking down six Jihad members in a sleeper cell, they were holed up six miles east of Hawthorne. They had finished their reconnaissance’s the day before and were putting the final plans together to make a raid. Those plans included using two suicide car bombs for the town of Tonopah, the school there is backed full of refugees. There aren’t any forward or rear areas in this war,” Eli steps forward and stares up into the eyes of the lead agent. With his left hand he grabs him by the top of his black vest and pulls the mans face down to his level and in a loud whisper meant for every one to hear, “And when you address me it’s Major or Sir.” He hears in his ear bud, “We have them covered, give the word and they’re history.”
The agent tries to pull back after looking into those hard hazel colored eyes, as a flash of fear shows on his face, then he says in false bravado, “Let go, you little shit,” as he tries to pull his MP5 around to point at Eli.
He can’t as there is a pistol held in Eli’s right hand blocking him and its pointed right at his heart.
He’s informed, “This is a CZ52 with a hot hand load, it will go straight through both sides of your level three vest making bloody little holes in what ever happens to be in between.”
The agent yells for his snipers, “Take this man out he’s assaulting a Fed….”
Several shots ring out and both of the BATF snipers are killed by two of Eli’s men who are behind them with the AKs. Eli puts one shot into the agent he is holding, then steps to one side and lets the body fall to the ground covering the other agents with his pistol.
The other five BATF agents are frozen in place as the other two men from Eli’s tracking team step up to their sides and cover them with AK’s. Suddenly three of the agents move and turn to face this threat as one of them squeezes his trigger a little to much, he empties his MP5 9mm magazine into the side and back of two of the other agents killing them. Before he can shoot any of the Militia he is killed by one of Eli’s men as he double taps him in the face with his AK.
Except for Eli and his men, all of the others are stunned with what has just happened. Eli tells his medic to check the agents that are down and see if any of them they are still alive. Cody orders the last two agents to drop their weapons, which they do.
Cody then bends over and picks up Ted’s FN and shows it to the last two BATF agents as he shouts, “See the safety selector is on safe, and now when I flip it over it stops in the first or semi-auto position and it won’t move any further because he has a stop welded to his rifle. I’m not going to break his weapon down and show you that is has a semi-auto sear too, cause it wouldn’t matter if he did, it wouldn’t engage because of the weld. What the hell are you guys doing, if it’s a fight you want head west 100 miles and check on the Chin or Jihads, those people are the ones carrying full-auto weapons, not you own countryman who are fighting them.”
“Our orders came from back east,” one of the agents offered as the other one shouted, “Shut up jerk weed you don’t have to say a thing. Not to these militia pukes…”
He is silenced and falls to the ground when Eli shoots his right foot up into the agent’s crouch making solid contact. Eli then turns to Cody and said, “Get you men back aboard the buses, you saw nothing, you know nothing. No one talks not even to each other, this never happened as far as you and your men know OK!”
“Fifty men makes it kind of hard to keep a secret, and what about Ted Sir, what do we do with his body,” Cody asks?
“Your men will keep this quiet, it’s a pay back for what these shits did to Ted today,and for your man a few years back.” Looking down at the dead militiaman, his voice drops and his tone softens as he formed a plan in his mind. “As for Ted, you assigned him to me for our last mission, I haven’t reported in and I’ll say he was killed during the assault on the Terrs cell hide out. I can fudge the time of action and my people will make him out to be a hero. Whose his team buddy, have him come with us to get the story straight?”
Cody pointed to Gary Fry and said, “Your to work with the Major,” then turning back to Eli he finished with, “do you need anything else sir?”
“No we just have to finish up here and then turn around and go back east of Hawthorne, after a bit we will give Ted’s body over to the medics there for processing and for sending on back to Kansas. Sargent Major I’m truly sorry for the loss of your man.” Eli said offering his condolences.
“As for the BATF agents, remember the Movie 'Enemy at the Gates,' and at the first part of the movie when the Soviet attack with the raw battalion?”
Cody nods his head yes.
“When that attacked failed and the raw recruits were forced to retreated back from the Germans, and then were cut down by their own people. Anyway that’s what these agents remind me of, the political connected staying safe but killing their own countrymen. F'n wankers,” he said with scorn.
“After what happened here, I wouldn’t put it past them to gun us down, given half the chance.”
Cody nodes his head again, then turning to some of the lesser wounded men who had some how managed to get off of the buses he orders them back on board telling them to say nothing, they know nothing, and no talking to each other either about what never happened. The story is we were stopped at the check point then allowed to continue on with out seeing anything. Each vehicle commander assures Cody they will make their men understand the why.
Cody then walks back to the pickup he was riding in as convoy commander, before getting in he stops for a few seconds thinking, then walks back toward Eli and says, “Sir?”
Eli holds up his hand as he orders his men to take the two live agents back to his vehicle and search them again. Then to strip all of their equipment off of them. Turning back to Cody he tells him. “Don’t ask, cause you really don’t want to know.”
“Yes I do sir, I have to!”
“The three S principle is what I’d like to do but there’s not enough time, so it will be the Terr cell that got them. My men used captured AK’s and we have extra ones from the cell we took out today, all evidence here points that way and I’ll be called to send a tracking team to help gather info and search for spoor. Eli then bends over and picks up the one shell casing from his pistol shot and drops it into his pocket.”
“Three S’s,” Cody asks?
“Shoot, shovel, and shut-up, one of the codes of us western folks, I owe you one, now get out of here Cody, that’s an order.”
With out another word Cody saluted, then turned and walked back to his vehicle, before he got in he told the four man security detail riding in the back, “As the man said, nothing happened and that means no talking to each other do you understand?”
“Yes CSM,” they answered as one voice, they might not like it but they understand the reason.
Both of the ATF agents know what is going to happen, and they refuse to get into the back of the covered pickup. One of them with fear showing on his face splutters, “You can’t do this were Americans.”
Eli looking at him with disbelief answers, “What about Ted, the soldier you guys killed wasn’t he an American too?”
Gary Fry with venom in his voice added, “Ted had been award the Bronze Cross already, did either of you get any medals for Valor.”
“No, but you can’t kill us. It wasn’t either of us, you killed the lead agent Somers, and he’s the one who pulled the trigger.” As the other agent chipped in, “If you kill us the forensics division will be able to figure it out, you will never get away with it?”
“I’m not going to kill you, the terrorist will, or should I say they already have. If we can find all of your bodies in a few weeks or not, the coyotes and the other critters that live around here are wanting a free meal, they will have destroyed all most all of the evidence. Say your prayers, you’ll need them in hell.”
One of the Agents starts crying and sputtering about his family and kids.
He is quickly silenced by Corporal Tombie's scold, “Shut up you, you are a waste of white skin. Back in Rhodesia I helped train the National Service soldiers, boys of 17 and 18 went off to war with out crying, those that lived, them became men after their first contact. You are a man and you cry like a little child,” he then gives the agent a hard slap to the side of his head as he finished with. “Be a man, the Militia have stepped up and some of them have died to save America, you do the same.”
(C-49)
Just Before Christmas
Long Night Moon
To Live in our Republic, established by our forefathers,
To enjoy the freedoms fought for and won by the blood of patriots.
There are Responsibilities and Duties, we owe to future Americans,
Each of us must face that fact.
The term Long Night Moon is because the midwinter night is indeed long, and because the Moon is above the horizon for a long time.
(www.farmersalmanac.com/full-moon-names)
‘I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.’
(J.R.R.Tolkien, The Two Towers)
“Firearms stand next in importance to the Constitution itself. They are the American peoples’ liberty teeth, and keystone under independence. To secure peace, Security, and happiness, the rifle and pistol are equally indispensable. The very atmosphere of firearms everywhere restrains evil interferance – they deserve a place of honour with all that is good.”
George Washington
It’s funny the things that go through you mind while your on guard duty, you have to stay alert but your mind sure can wonder. So I say to you back home safe and warm, ‘Don’t ever forget that you owe me big time.’ It’s a cold snowy winter night its’ nine thirty in the evening, how Cold?
Were were told that the temperature would be hovering at a nice twenty degrees or-so with a wind chill of around fourteen degrees.
You’re all warm in your soft beds back home and I’m cold, hungry, and tired, well maybe not hungry but a sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate would be nice. Yes I chose to be one of the first volunteers along with my Militia unit, and I’m damn proud of the choice I made. But cut the guys and me a little slack will you, were doing the best that we can, and each day we are getting better.
Jeremy stomped his feet to help keep them warm, he was alert listening with his Ear Shots on but let his mind continue to run it’s train of thought. Tomorrow it will be Christmas; you’ll open presents early and then eat a nice big breakfast. Later you will set down to a big family dinner surrounded by love ones. My buddies and me will have a good dinner too, maybe not as fancy but it’s the thought that counts.
It’s funny I’m not really hungry but for some reason I’m thinking a lot about food lately. Maybe I am a little home sick; his sub conscience yells, stop right there, better push that thought out. There's too much work and hardships ahead, a job to be completed first. His mind was now focused back to his stand at guard duty, more cold and then tomorrow many more long hours of training and preparation, don’t get me wrong I’m not complaining or saying it’s not worth it. Freedom and Liberty, those words have been worth how many patriots’ lives, millions, over our nations two hundred thirty plus year history, and now even more as some are his friends and people he knows?
And each day the cost is still rising, how many more will we lose before we win back for our fellow Americans the same freedoms we were all born with. Patrick Henry said that the Liberty tree must be nourished from time to time with the blood of tyrants and patriots. We’ll Pat old-boy I’ve seen the blood of my fellow patriots and a lot more of the tyrant’s minions blood, which makes you and the other founding fathers right again. You guys said that the price of freedom is internal vigilance, especially if we are to retain our freedoms.
So for now we have to fight the Chinese here at home along with the few dumb ass politicians and peaceniks that will never learn. And we have to fight what’s left of the UN political machine overseas, man what a bunch of spineless wimps. Our boys in the regular Military are fighting on four continents, in ten different war zones. At least I know every day that more men are finishing training and heading my way to help. I hope the same for you guys over there too.
Thank God the President kicked the UN out of New York and sent them packing, especially after we asked them to condemn the Chinese invasion, and asking for sanctions. But no they wouldn’t do that and then they tried to label us the aggressor? Go figure; the UN hates us because of our freedoms, pure and simple. The UN had become a club of one party rulers, and a sounding board for nasty little dictators, all of them are threatened by our example of living as free people, our free speech, our freedom to own weapons, the rule of law, not the rule of might by the few.
The irony I see is that at one time many of the Americans in the occupied lands and back east were the gloom’n’doom crowd, and they sided with the UN against America, before the invaders came. They were supporting one UN resolutions after another condemning the US. That the UN is right, the bad Americans always wrong. And that we all should do what the UN say’s, they’re right and the US is the world’s bully.
That it was all Americas fault the world didn’t have peace, it’s the US’s fault that some thug or communist or socialists people or Islamic religious group were at war or hungry or angry with us.
What a bunch of dumb asses. All they had to do is to look at the blood that flowed from over 100 million people during the past century. And wake up to realize the hands of the Left caused most of that blood, and then maybe they would recognize those mentally unbalanced ideologues for what they really are.
We’ll as my dad used to say, the chickens have come home to roost.
I do know one thing; you can never take freedom for granted. Some one has paid a heavy price for you to be born in a free nation. And now many more good men are going to have to pay the last full measure to hold on to that freedom, maybe even me. And if it’s my time to go I can say I did I it for all Americans with no reservations, because I’m no phony liberal patriot.
I know the leftist are going to have to decide weather they want freedom and to help carry this load, if not when this is over their going to get kicked out of paradise.
Look who are the biggest critics of the war now, the elitist and some of the former peaceniks, all of them saying we need more soldiers, planes, ships, and tanks. That our intelligence agencies failed us again. What a joke, after they continual cut the percentage for security from how many budgets over the last fifteen years. Or they have complained that we now need a home guard to help defend us, funny I didn’t see any of them at our meetings last year offering any help, getting out and training with us.
Ha home guard, they should have read the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights especially the 2nd amendment, that’s what the Militia is for and why our forefathers but such importance on it. And that’s why it’s written into most State Constitutions. Before the war all the liberals could do was bad mouth and run the Militia down, they were too good to help us when it would have been easy to build up a local force of citizen-soldiers to help with the common defense.
The liberals, they’re the same ones who constantly harassed our military, and placed asinine laws on our foreign spying. And not only ignored the Constitution and federal law in equipping and training the Militia, there the ones who demonized and belittled the few citizens who chose to be involved. By calling us names like racists, gun nuts, Christians, home schooling, a vast right wing conspiracy, anything but right. Now look who was right, us, and who was wrong, you.
Well as you can see I’m black and so is the Lt. and there are several other blacks in my platoon as well as whites, Mexican’s, a few Orientals, two brothers who’s parents escaped Castors Cuba years ago, one American Indian, and a recent emigrant from Egypt. All of us are Americans, or wishing to become Americans, people who will fight for freedom, not just with words but with their lives if necessary. I don’t want to live in an America divided by race, but one in which we all share a common goal, Freedom for all.
Walking by the platoon tent he could hear the Lt. talking to the reporter, as he turned to continue his circuit, Jeremy could hear the reporter asking his Lt. the same question he had just answered in his thoughts.
“…As far as being a gun nut; yes I am.” Lyle using his left hand pointed to his disassembled FN rifle he had been cleaning before the interview started. “This rifle here, it would have been outlawed if we hadn’t of stood up and elected people who believe in the Constitution, and the bill of rights. It’s just a semi-automatic rifle, not a machine-gun.”
“I’m not interested in one that goes through more ammo than you and I could carry, I’ve had many chances during our first battles to pick up any number of full auto guns. But no thank you, controlled shots, accurate, one at a time and with lots of trained riflemen doing the same, have kept us alive and well.” Lyle started to reassemble the now cleaned weapon.
The reporter said, “You also said you were a Christian, and home schooled, and yet you have people in your platoon that don’t share your beliefs?”
Lyle worked the FN’s action a couple of times then dry fired it before he laid it on his LBE. “I am a home schooled Christian, and yes I’m proud of both facts. My parents sacrificed a lot so that my two sisters and I got a good education.”
“One thing that I’m sure you weren’t taught in a public school was that prior to the Federal Department of Education being formed, America had the finest schools in the world. If you don’t believe me just look at how our country developed and flourished. But since this unconstitutional and disastrous grab for power by the so-called Teachers Associations we have steadily gone down hill since.”
“I’ll bet you don’t know that there is no provision in the Federal Constitution for congress to fund or control schools?”
The reporter just shook her head no.
“And that the handing out of billions of dollars a year will not fix our schools, they continue to decline faster than the feds or states can give them money. When schools are controlled and funded locally, with some assistance from the states, only then will our education system return to the top. You see when control is local and the people who are responsible have to answer to the parents, ‘why Johnny or Suzy can’t read.’ No excuse that they could give will cover up their own incompetence, and if they can’t do the job they were hired to do, the boss, that’s the people, fire them and find some one who will do the job right.”
Lyle paused and gave a little smile as he said, “Sorry I didn’t mean to get on a soapbox and preach but that’s why my parents home schooled me and my sisters so we could think and reason!”
“That’s OK, now how do the non-Christians in the platoon accept your beliefs being different from theirs,” the reporter asked?
“We respect each other and accept that each of us are different in many ways, but it’s our differences and our love of freedom that makes us and America strong. Our country was founded on Christian principles with acceptance of other beliefs as one of our freedoms. As for my family and me, we went to Sunday school and church almost every week and at the age of twelve I accepted Jesus Christ as my savior. My choice, mine alone and one that I’m so proud of I want to share and let every one know that I’m saved and God loves me. And he will love you too if you accept his son in to your heart, but” Lyle held up one finger to emphasize his point, “But I won’t shove my faith onto any one. With one Muslim in my platoon I respect his right to believe in whom ever he wants, and all the guys here fill the same way. If we aren’t involved in any action we make time for him to say his prayers and to let him pray his own way, as we all do our own way.”
“Not meaning to question you, but your wrong when you say we don’t share the same beliefs. Every one of us have a strong sense of self, we love freedom so much so that we are willing to die if necessary, so that other people can be free, and we are all Americans, fighting against enslavement of all our people.”
“Dawud, our Mulsim friend left a country that doesn’t respect individual freedoms or really tolerate other beliefs. He said he finds it refreshing to be accepted, to be judged by his character and as a person. He said his country has a long way to go before they really are a free people.”
“The founding Fathers knew that only a Christian nation is willing to accept other religions. Just look at the part of the world that is strictly controlled by Islamic law, all other religions pay special taxes and their followers have less standing in the eyes of the law. Dawud told us that and he says that is one reason his former country isn’t free, it’s holding them all back, that all men and women aren’t equal there. I don’t think too many freedom loving people here would want that type of a system?”
“Before the war there were reports by the major media networks that home schooling was a racket and really harmful to kids education and social development, what do you think,” the reported asked?
Lyle took a canteen cup of coffee, offered to him by his radioman who also handed one to the News reporter both said thanks; Lyle took a sip then continued. “No racket involved, being home schooled I got a better education then the rest of the guys who went to public schools, during our high school equivalence exams I tested out as having two years college. Before the war started I had only a month left to finish on my apprenticeship, after that I wanted to take some business classes at the local junior college.”
The reporter asked, “If you don’t mind what was your occupation before the war?”
“Don’t mind at all, I was a heavy equipment operator, bulldozers and earth-movers, and when the war is over I’ll be going back to the same job, hear that Frank,” Lyle said with a wink and a smile at the camera. “I’ll want my old job back, and so do the rest of the guys here at the front, that’s for all of you folks back home” he added. “There will be lots of work around here, we have to rebuild all the roads and buildings that are being torn up and destroyed. Life goes on with or without any wars getting in the way, but after a war you have to clean up.”
“So you think your home schooling properly prepared you for dealing with the day to day world?”
Lyle had an impish smile and retorted, “What I’d like to really say would involve using profanity, and I don’t cuss with ladies around or use such words when I know children will hear.”
He paused to take a breath, “I will say that the so-called public education system was and probable still is, a scam to indoctrinate the youth of America in accepting a socialist style, elite class leadership. One that won’t look out for the average man or women. They hate the idea of every man having a say in how the government is ran, the how and why our republican system of government was formed, and that everyone is accountable to the law, even the liberals.”
“When we were invaded they showed their true colors in telling us simple-minded folk that we had pushed China to war! Yeah right the jerks always know best, its’ the same way we pushed Japan over sixty years ago. Anyway on the morning of the invasion the UN loving elitist told us, the great ignorant unwashed, too try and understand that the invasion of America was just an act of self-defense, oh-boy that was rich,” Lyle let out a light humorless laugh. “The same way that Pearl Harbor December 7th, 1941 got in the way of the peaceful Imperial Japanese Navy.” The reporter and several of the platoon members within hearing laughed.
A runner from Brigade headquarters entered the tent and spoke quietly to the Platoon Sergeant, giving him a dispatch.
Lyle continued, “Fools like that are a danger to any country, if we weren’t a tolerant people toward fools that could or would be called treason…”
The Plt. Sgt. handed Lyle the dispatch, he scanned the typed message then said, “You’ll have to excuse me I have a briefing to go to, maybe we can finish at a later date.” With out waiting for a reply Lyle turned to the Sgt. handed him the dispatch saying in a low voice so the reporter wouldn’t hear. “Have Dave Hieser from HQ company, he’s over there talking to his brother, take the reporter to the training tent and show her some of the captured machine-guns, and other equipment. As soon as she is out of hearing call the platoon together and read them the warning order and have them start readying their gear. Then go to the S-2 and get us sixteen map sets for the mentioned areas in the dispatch, and ask for two of the light weight laptops with one Map DVD disks each and a couple of the small 12 volt printers, we will make the rest of the maps as we need them.” Lyle then put on his winter coat, picked up his rifle and map case and headed out of the tent.
The Next Day
As for the elites,
‘I do not think they quite understand that once armed,
a free man cannot be disarmed, only defeated. Or Killed.’
Are they willing to be the first in line,
to step up and take the freeman’s weapons?
Standing outside the Aviation Battalions HQ near the Bridgeport airstrip, Dan looks west at the snow-covered mountains. The sky is still covered with high clouds but they could see the top of the mountains to the west and it was breathtaking.
Quiet a sight to see for a flat-lander, that’s what the California people call the people from Kansas, flat-landers. They say it with respect though, and mean it because we are here helping them. Really we are helping all of America, that’s what the Militia is for, to help our state and all the other states when they need us, and that is what Americans have always done, help each other when one is in need. Turning back to Boa he adds, “Oh I also forgot I’ll need a small jar full of lard too.”
Cody laughed as interjected, “That’s in case we have to interrogate some of the Islamic army people later, right.”
Dan turned to the CSM and raised an eyebrow, and had a ‘What’ expression on his face as he smiled.
“No problem I can do that and I understand. I’m glad to say that for them it would be a cruel fate to stand at the gates of paradise and not be allowed in and not able to partake of the rewards promised because one was unclean.”
“Yes that’s what the lard is for, a small amount in the mouth and over the eyes, then they can’t enter their heaven unclean, if you want to know where I learned these tricks, they were told to me by a Muslim years ago in Rhodesia. His grand parents had emigrated from Turkey in 1921 and he said that is how his Grandfather fought the rebels in what is now Saudi Arabia. A very nice older gentleman too, he told me that the prisoners would talk so fast you had to ask them to repeat parts as you couldn’t keep up in writing it all down.”
Voicing his true opinion Dan said, “More then anything else, I’m hoping that we won’t have to use such tricks.” Then changing the subject he asks, “What’s the situation in finding the number of ski’s we need?”
“The G-4 Col. Koch finished the inventory of stores the Marines left at the school yesterday and he counted 1200 pair of ski’s and poles and 1100 snow shows. Lyle and his attached people and Eli’s new people are all getting their advanced lessons now. Col. Koch is having all of his staff assistant’s check out all of the deserted local ski resorts from here up to Lake Tahoe, so far he has picked up over 15,000 sets, we should be able to find enough by the end of the month for our needs. Lucky for us sir that this is such a popular area with so many rental agencies.”
“He is leaving a receipt for what we are borrowing, I don’t want any one accusing us of stealing anything after the war.”
“Better then just a receipt, he’s having his people make a DVD recording, then they leave a copy with the receipt, and forwards one up to Corp for the Jag office, he may be a lawyer but he’s an honest one,” Boa laughed.
Dan laughed too then asked, “One last thing Major, please ask Colonel Koch to see if we can get some of the Lithium Ion rechargeable batteries for our men stationed up in the mountains, they are a better substitute in that freezing climate then the Nickel Cadmium (NiCad) or the Nickel Metal Hydride (NiMH) ones they are using now. Here,” Dan handed over a small plastic box, “I went through my spares and I found a dozen, send an alert to all of the First Sergeants. Cody and see what we can come up with, most of the 1st Brigade people should have some in their rucks, sorry Alice packs, as it was a requirement for our second line equipment.”
“I can do better then that sir, when I talked to D last week I forgot to tell you that he offered us four full cases, each case numbered close to 3000 batteries, they are still in my office I’ll see that they all get charged and I’ll send up at least two cases tomorrow afternoon. I think the signal battalion can have them all charged by then,” Boa answered?
“Careful trading with D, he will want something in return, his Sgt. Major is an old horse trader,” Dan chuckled.
“Already taken care of, and we are both happy, I only had to give….”
“Don’t tell me; you might need me as a character witness at your court martial. If I don’t know what was traded I can then act surprised and cover for you.” The three men had a good laugh, as ‘horse-trading’, as it was called has been around long before the first city-states had armies. Since then every army has been doing ‘horse-trading’ between units. It cuts down on the paper work and helps build mutual trust and respect.
(C-50)
Eid-Al-Fitr
(Celebrating the good things that we have received)
“Muslims cannot love the enemies of Allah,
and those who do will get no mercy in hell.”
‘The punishment of those who wage war against Allah and His apostle and strive to make mischief in the land is only this, that they should be murdered or crucified or their hands and their feet should be cut off on opposite sides or they should be imprisoned
‘make firm those who believe. I will cast terror into the hearts of those who disbelieve.’
So when the sacred months have passed away, then slay the idolaters wherever you find them, and take them captives and besiege them and lie in wait for them in every ambush, then if they repent and keep up prayer and pay the poor-rate, leave their way free to them;
surely Allah is Forgiving, Merciful
Koran 9:5
"Those who have disbelieved our signs, we shall roast them in fire. Whenever their skins are cooked to a turn, we shall substitute new skins for them, that they may feel the punishment; Verily Allah is sublime and wise." An-Nisa 4.56
Australia
Members of Hizb ut-Tahrir say that the country is ‘god-forsaken,’ and that Muslims must shun ‘secular and erroneous concepts such as democracy and freedom.’
Jihad Watch July 4 2010
Kalida walks silently through the burnt out shell of the cathedral, carefully stepping around a fallen column of rock and twisted steel, that once helped support the roof. The fire must have been hot, very hot, as there are no bodies’ left and very little bone, what was left was mostly teeth, thousands and thousands of teeth, at foot in the ash; good.
As he raised his voice in a half shout, “Oh Allah just as Abraham offered burnt offerings to you the lord of all, I Kalida offer burnt offerings too.” Then in a regular voice he said, “I will continue to offer burnt offerings until there are no ungodly Americans left, and only your true believers are all that remain.”
His men had carried out his orders very well; to wait until Sunday when the Christians gather at their churches. Then send companies of men into the surrounding homes and apartments, tell all those still at home that an important announcement will be given at the church and their presences is demanded by the occupying army commander. Herd them to the church in the hundreds using bayonets and the threat of being shot if necessary, and pack them inside, until there was no more room, then sending away those outside to bear witness.
Sealing all the windows with heavy wood and stacking more against the sides. Parking heavy trucks filled with old tires across the doors, leaving no exit. Then set it on fire, all around the building so it will be all consumed.
His men then yelled, Allah Akabar as they set out guards to stop the fire trucks from approaching to put the blaze out.
This one burnt out church makes 36, they were doing 3 each Sunday for the last 12 weeks, we will not stop until there are no more churches to burn, and we have much work to do, Allah Akabar.
Kalida’s feet stir up the ash and he smells the ascetic odor, as a grim smile escapes and evil malice momentarily flashes across his face. All of America will surrender then convert, and to believe in the one True Prophet the teacher of Islam and then the world will be at peace.
Did not Mohammad teach us that wherever a Muslim has walked is forever the land of Allah. He made us the heirs to the lands of those who fight against us, we are to take all dwellings all of the property and claim even the land where we have not yet trodden until the whole world is one with Allah, for there can be no other way, this I promise you until my dying breath.
He knows that many will die resisting the words of Allah, so be it. Those who resist must die as it is so written. If they are to die at the hands of his faithful fighters even better, for when we the righteous die our place in heaven is assured.
The Quran promises kaffirs (non believers) many things, death by beheading, and unending war. Christians will be burned In the fire. (Quran 5:72)
Those who disbelieve Allah’s revelations will have the Fire placed over them like an awning. (Quran 90:19/20
(C-51)
Hot Food
Hot Showers
Life is Good
Fales Hot Springs
1st Friday in January
Simple pleasures are always the best
Anon
“Cody, Boa, sometimes I think you guys are a couple of genius! Somehow you take almost nothing and make it into something useful. First you set up a superb chow line to give the men coming down from guarding the pass a good hot meal, they you bus them down here for a long hot shower using the unlimited heated water from the thermal springs. And then you have hidden the transit rest camp with its twelve secure sleeping bunkers there on the north side of the highway so the men are assured a dry bunk and a good two days rest. All I can say is I’m truly amazed. Where did you get the men and all this material to do this,” Dan asked stepping out of the second shower facility he just finished inspecting?
Cody with a smile offered, “Thank you sir, but Major Diem deserves the credit, he got the whole idea started.”
“Well done Boa as I said I’m impressed.”
“All I did was talk to people trying to find a couple of old large boilers. The credit in using the hot springs is not for me, the setting up the showers was mine. The water from the hot springs belongs to Stumpy Meyers, oops sorry I mean Major Meyers of the California Militia. He also get all of the logs and wood for the majority of the construction. And the people of Kansas provide the pipes, and the shower-heads to make it work. All I did was to think of the idea and the 1st California Militia engineers lead by that old SeaBee Captain Tue and my security teams did the work.”
“Still a good idea Major Diem, keep thinking I know the troops will appreciate what ever you do for them. And tell all of the ones who did the work for me, that they did a real good job.”
Just as Dan is about finished with the inspection a Humvee pulls up and Major Meyer along with a tall, big-shouldered man dressed in civvies gets out and come walking towards them. He sees Boa first and say’s, “Hey Major Diem I’d like you to meet Howard Raines, he’s with the UK paper the Bull and he’s going to write a series of articles chronicling the Militia role in the fighting here.” Then he sees Dan and says “Oh sorry sir didn’t see you, Howard this is…”
Stepping forward to shake the offered hand, Dan’s senses screamed a warning, he hears someone shout, ‘Ieshae, Ieshae, Chingera he has a bomb.’ Before anyone knows what is going on Dan pulls a gun strapped to his left leg and shoots Howard in the leg. Instead of being the loud knock down noise of a .45 or the hard sharp crack of his CZ, it’s more like the sound of a pellet gun, puft.
Howard is instantly in convulsions and falls to the ground flopping around and screaming. Dan is standing over him and pulls the trigger two more times then yells, “Everyone wait thirty seconds, I’ve used a stun gun and the shock setting is set on a 30 second burst. When it stops I want two of you to grab a leg each, two men on each arm, one of you to hold the hands open and put your fingers between his, don’t let him flex any thing he might have a hidden contact switch. I want him spread eagle, Sgt. Williams use your baton and place it between his teeth just in case he has a switch there, and hold his head down.”
Cody is startled like the rest of the men and in disbelief half shouts, “What’s going on, why did you do that, sir?”
As several men get ready to obey Dan’s command to jump on top of the big reporter when the electrical induced convulsions stop.
Dan is concentrating on the silent count, and wasn’t aware that his sudden actions took everyone by surprise, so he answers in a loud voice, “Didn’t you hear that Man shout that he’s got a bomb?”
No one answers as they are confused by Dan’s actions. Looking at each other several say, “I didn’t hear a shouted warning, did you?”
Dan shouts, “Wait for it, or you might get some of the shock, OK now.”
The men react to the order as if they had practiced it as an everyday drill, with Howard quickly spread eagle and with his mind numb and dazed from the pain of the Tazer he is easily held down.
Cody says to Dan, “Sir get back if he does have a bomb we can’t afford to lose you.”
Dan hesitates a second not afraid, but not wanting his friends to be exposed while he moves to safety.
Cody then grabs Dan in a bear hug and picks him up as he walks away and yells an order over his shoulder, “Boa your in charge, you know more about explosives then the others, I’ll send you an engineer team as quickly as I can.”
“But me down Cody, put me down right now.” Dan said surprised by his friend’s actions. Then in an angry tone, “I mean it, that’s a order, now.”
“Only if you will leave the area Dan, and I mean leave damn it. Oops sorry sir I didn’t mean to cuss, but I can’t protect you when you might be standing over a bomb.”
Cody puts Dan down and starts to say, “Sir, I really am sorry I…”
Dan holds up his hand for quiet as he takes his radio and switches to a short-range frequency and calls for an engineer team to come to their location at the new showers. One man answers and says his team is maybe five minuets away and will come to help.
Dan then looks at Cody and lets out a, “Huh,” as a short laugh forces its way out with his smile, as he asks, “What do you think the troops are going to say about you picking me up and walking away like that?”
Cody looks at Dan with a duh type of expression, then both men laugh as he says, “I guess it did look funny, and the telling will stretch it to a good tall-tale. I’m sorry sir I just reacted, I couldn’t think of any way faster to make you move sir, I really am sorry.”
Dan holds out his hand to shake Cody’s’ as he says, “No hard feelings or grudges held on my part Cody. You were right, the method might have been a little extreme thought, but man I hate to leave the others in danger like that. Who was that, that shouted the reporter had a bomb?”
Cody shook the offered hand and said, “I didn’t hear the shout, all I saw was your pulling the gun and then shooting him.”
“I clearly heard someone shout, ‘Ieshae he has a… bomb.” Dan stops talking and shudders as he realizes that none of him men would know to use the Shone word Ieshae, it’s a term of respect. One man a long time ago, had used that word all the time, Ziambe his batt man. The Lord must be letting him help us, looking out for me and my men’s welfare, Dan says a silent ‘thank you Lord.’
Cody has a puzzled look on his face as he thinks, ‘Esha’?
Dan says, “Never mind, I guess maybe it’s my fault that the reporter is there, I forgot to tell Maj. Meyers that no news people were allowed in the forward camps. When we get back to HQ, I’ll have that posted as a command directive immediately.”
“I’ll make sure every NCO gets the word before then. Again let me say I’m sorry for picking you up and walking away. Someone has to give the orders sir, you were elected and it’s your job. The rest of us chose to face the dangers and take the chances in following you; no one questions your courage. Everyone one of us knows that you prefer to lead from the front, by example. But we need you alive too….”
Dan again holds up his hand to stop his friend from talking and smiles as he say’s, “Thanks for caring, least leave it at that, I don’t want to have to get a larger hat.”
Boa standing over Howard shouts to several men who are watching the staff officers and NCOs holding the reporter down, “You there bring twelve of those big tent stakes, that sledge hammer and do any of you have Para cord, we need to tie him down?”
Two of the men grab the stakes and sledgehammer, another two reach into their cargo pockets and each pull out a twenty-five foot roll of the green cord, as per their units SOP for first line gear.
Howard is still dazed and weak from being shot with the stun gun, as he slowly recovers he attempts to curse at the Militiamen.
Boa ignores him and takes a few of the stakes, he pushes two into the ground on either side of Howard’s ankles, then two on either side at the wrists and then one on each side of Howard’s head as he starts struggling against the men holding him down. Boa directs the man with the hammer to drive the stakes deep and to be careful not to hit the men holding down their prisoner.
Boa then pulls up one of the reporter’s coat sleeves up and makes sure there are no switches as he ties the wrist securely to two stakes. He repeats the process on the other wrist and then after checking both pants legs and tying the ankles tight. He then takes out a role of duct tape from his field coat pocket and circles the reporter’s head above the eyes attaching it to the stake on both sides of his head.
Checking to make sure there are no wires coming from the mouth he tells Sgt. Williams to remove the baton.
“You filth bastards, what the fuck do you think you’re doing, let me go this instant. I’ll sue every one of you and see you charged with assault. I’ll have your guts for garters, this isn’t right I’m a reporter damn it. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Howard shouts trying to prove he’s innocent before this becomes serious and gets out of hand.
Boa takes one of the last two stakes and shoves it into the ground hard against the top of the mans head. The soldier with the sledgehammer then drives it into the ground, as they are cussed at.
Boa takes the last stake and hits Howard hard in the stomach driving the air from his lungs as he say’s, “Shut up you, only answer questions that I ask, no more cussing at me or my friends, you understand!”
Howard lets out and even longer string of fuck you’s; you bloody bastards, bunch of fucking bent wankers, and to Boa whom he directed his most vocal bile at, “Piss on you, up your bloody arse holes especially you, you fish head eating wog…..”
Boa listens for a few seconds to this personal verbal abuse then takes the stake and hits Howard hard in the stomach again, knocking the air out completely this time and shutting him up. He then takes the stake places it between Howard’s legs up tight against his balls and pushes it into the ground. Before he steps back to let the man hammer it in, he kicks the stake hard. The impulse and energy from his boot is transferred through the wood and delivered right where he wanted it.
Howard lets out a feeble cough in pain; he hadn’t regained his breath yet from the last hit to his stomach.
Boa turns to the staff officers and the men that are gathering around and tells them to clear back at least fifty meters as he needs to check Howard for a bomb. “I will call a couple of you back to help after I check him over.”
Stumpy Meyers says, “Boa since I brought Howard up here it’s my fault shouldn’t I be the one responsible to search him?”
“No, because you have been every where he went, if he blows up we won’t not know where to look for more bombs. Wait until I get some answers then go look for bombs. Now I want all of you to clear back now, a fifty meter circle clean of all men and get behind cover, move.”
Howard fighting to regain his breath from being hit in the stomach that second time and from the searing pain in his groin moans, he knows that this little oriental man means business, really serious business. So he makes a mental note that he must hold out as long a possible, that he has to stop from giving all of his information in one burst. Only a little at a time, just give a little information at a time, maybe they will stop when they know just a little, ‘oh Allah I pray and ask for strength, that you help me, your faithful servant in my hour of need.’
With the area clear, Boa takes a small tube of white paste from his shirt pocket and squeezes a little out and then smears it on Howard’s fore head as he says, “Just to let you know that is pig fat. If you a Muslim as I suspect, you’re not going to heaven, you will go to hell with the rest of the unclean.”
Howard closes his eyes and trembles just a little, how can this wog know, how? May Allah crush these Americans, bring them down to their knees, and humiliate them in front of the faithful before he destroys them, sending them all to burn in the pit of hell.
Boas seeing him twitch then says, “You and I to have a friendly chat my young friend, I will ask you questions and you must answer very truthfully; if not it will get very uncomfortable for you, understand.”
Howard mouths back at him, “A pox on the whole lot of you, you evil little man, you.”
Boa just smirks a little as he said, “I not an evil man,” as he touches the side of his head, “but I do know where evil is, if I let him out.”
Not waiting for a reply Boa continued, “Let me tell you a little about myself first, so you know that I can make you talk before you find out the hard way.”
“I’m a Vietnamese refuge; one of the boat people. I lost my country, my home and part of my family, to a communist fanatical group of people. They have same type of mindset as you Jihad fanatics, where all must either convert or die. I didn’t die then and I not die now, or convert either. I fought them for many years and never gave up; I helped then with a lot of interrogations, I know every man talk now or later. It depend how much pain for now and mutilation to you body you want to live with later. I promise you, I won’t let you die but you will wish you die.”
Boa let Howard think this over for a few seconds then he tapped the stake between Howard’s legs again with the handle of the sledgehammer so he would feel the vibration and to let him know who was in charge.
“First question, if I unbutton your jacket is it booby trapped to explode?”
“If you’re cocky enough why don’t you unbutton it and find out you little rice eating bloody piece of shit.”
Boa kicks the stake that’s between Howard legs hard. The reporter moans as the sharp stabbing pain forces tears from his eyes. Boa then walks over to his brief case and takes out a small brown squeeze bottle with a label on it, which he duct tapes over. Walking back to Howard he doesn’t say a thing as he reaches down and holds the fake reporters left eye open, and drops a few drops of liquid into it.
Howard screams in pain as the burning situation seems to jump straight into the back of his skull.
Boa says, “That was acid, you have lost one eye, I will drop some into your ear next, if that becomes necessary then into nose.”
Screaming in pain his left eye feels like its on fire and he can feel it swelling shut as both eyes are weeping, Howard yells, “You shit, you shit, fuck you, go to hell.”
Boa says, “I’ll skip your ear for know,” as he squeezes a few drops into the mans left nostril.”
If possible Howard screams in even worse pain, his shriek is as high pitched as a young girl. He’s in pain unbelievable pain, his whole face is on fire and he can feel the acid seeping down into his throat burning it. He knew that if he were captured they would break his balls, and other tortures, that he would suffer great pain. But not pain like this, there was no way he could have imagined this type of pain, somehow he had to make it stop. Oh Allah please make it stop. I’ll give up just one small bit of information at a time, one at a time. As he screams and pleads at the same time, “No booby trap, please stop, you can take my coat. Just don’t’ use the acid again.”
Boa sets the bottle down and carefully unbuttons the coat, he then opens one side and eases it to the ground. He can see what looks like small boxes in several inside pocket. Dan was right he does have explosives, they are ready made charges, bombs ready to set, complete with timers, he pulls five of them half way out of there pockets where he can see that the timers are all set at 6:15 PM. Then patting each pocket in turn Boa finds that three of them on the one side are empty.
Pulling one of the explosive charges higher he carefully frees it from the pocket, he then pulls the detonator out of the attached block of plastic explosive. Then using the screwdriver on his pocket tool he backs off the setscrews and unclips the two wires from the back of the timer, then he takes the 9-volt battery out and the clock stops. He gets up and puts the detonator on the other side of a large rock facing away from him. He then walk’s over and hands the now defused explosive charge and timer to Major Meyers as he says, “Dan was right, this man have bombs, our friend here has set three charges with timers. They will look like this one, this one is now safe Stumpy, you have a little over eight hours to go back and find them, look hard do not touch them until you find all three, you have engineers they do the rest like I did this one.”
“That will be easy enough Boa, as he wanted to see the fuel supply dump first,” Maj. Meyers said “I know just where to look, there and back in my office and in the MP jeep that brought him over to see me.” He then hustles over to the Humvee and drives off.
“Sgt Williams, come give me a hand please, we pull his fangs now,” Boa said.
Turning back to Howard Boa asks, “Why 6:15?” All he gets is a moan from Howard as his eye and nose are still burning, the pain has not lessened. “OK my English friend we get answer the hard way if you desire.”
Taking the rest of the set charges out of the pockets on both sides of the now open coat and disarming each Boa tells Sgt. Williams, “Cut the sleeves off of his coat then through the top of the shoulders that way we can slide it out from under him.”
“Yes sir, but how are you going to make him talk?”
“Easy, we will get four more men to help, I’ll use Dan’s stun gun to paralyze him again then we will turn him over and tie him up as he is now, spread eagle. We pull down his pants and I then will shot some acid up his ass so he can’t ever take a dump again, he will take about ten days to die then, a very slow and very painful death as his body waste backs up, poisons and slowly kills him. Or I can drop a little acid on his balls and dick; he won’t be having any children or sex with a women after that, he’ll talk.”
“Damn sir, that’s cruel. Sorry sir I didn’t mean to cuss but isn’t that going a bit far.”
“No Sergeant it’s not, go ahead and cut off his shirt and his insulated underwear top. I explain, you see I will do what I have too, I must protect every man in this command, you are my friends my countrymen.”
Sgt. Williams shudders at the thought of what Boa has promised to do, if Howard won’t talk.
Boa then says, “The Communists did far worse to some of the captured American soldiers and pilots and to my people in Vietnam. This scum laying here and his people west of the mountains are doing that, and more, too many innocent people are dead and many more will die, Americans caught behind the lines. It is now his turn to find out what a educated mind can think of when it’s payback time.”
“I sure you listening to me Howard, not only will I do these but many more, I have almost eight hours to find out what you up to. I have you in my hands for only ten minuets, and you cry like a little girl, tell me what happens at six fifteen and I wipe off the pig fat now. If not I force you to talk then you eat pig fat next, and I post on the Internet that you cooperated with our people. If you have family you love in England that will be a death notice for them, we know your Muslim brothers will see to that.”
The fire in his left eye still raged and he felt as if he was going to drown in the mucus running down the back of his throat from his burning sinus. The thought of having the stun gun used on him was mild in comparison to this Wog’s promise of dropping the acid on his privates or up into his arse, that mental image really scared him.
He had thought about what would happen to him if he was caught and had expected a beating at the worst a real good thumping and maybe a few broken bones. But except for the two hits to his stomach and the kicking of the stake between his legs this Vietnamese man hadn’t really laid a hand on him, he had never once thought about the possibility of them using acid on him, it wasn’t right, Americans always played by the rules, until now.
But the one thing that scared him the most was, the very real threat to his family, at the hands of his Muslim brothers which was the worse and a very real and very deadly promise, not just a threat. He didn’t have to imagine what a couple of the real radical’s jihadist getting a hold of his Mum, his grand Mum or sister would do. He knew, because he had watched them work over a couple of slags, drug using whores several years ago, he couldn’t let them touch his family, no way in hell would he let that happen.
His eye still burning from the acid, Howard started to cry and sob, almost all of his resistance gone as he said, “Damn you to hell you bloody arse hole, you fucking Wog;” he half screamed.
Boa just looked at him with no emotion showing as he held up the acid bottle for Howard to see.
Howard moaned, with his head tied in place he couldn’t look away from Boa so he said, “There will be a Chinese Special Forces attack.” He paused and coughed, and then in a firm voice said, “There will be a Chinese Special Forces attack on your forward mess area at Pickel meadow at six thirty tonight. I was supposed to place five charges in and around the mess area, that way the Chinese would have caught a lot of your medical people and others helping the wounded.”
Boa shook his head in agreement; it made sense, they would have caught close to two battalions worth of people there, eating and or trying to help the wounded after the explosions. Now that they were forewarned, he would have his security team arrange a counter ambush. And he would let Eli know, since his people had reported coming across a lot of ski tracks two days ago in the hills, tracks that could be leading our way. “I not go to hell, my pomey friend, I have been there twice. First in watching the communist murder my people on their way to power, all the while promising that was a way of saving the people they were killing from the murderous capitalists. And now this second time here in California, listening to what your brothers are doing to innocent people, just to let you know I will be sending a lot of your people to hell very soon and after your trial as a spy, you will end up with them.”
Good to his word, Boa took part of Howard’s shirt and wiped off the pig fat. Then told him and Sgt. Williams, “That was not acid I use, it is a special hot sauce made with Habanero peppers I have from my restaurant, his eye and throat be OK.” He placed a drop on his finger, and then the finger into his mouth as he said, “Very hot, very good, better then Texas hot sauce, better flavor. You want some Sergeant?”
Taking a smell, Williams drew back fast as he said, “Whoa maybe in my soup or in a stew. That smells good, good and hot,” as he laughed, Relived to know that Boa was not some cold-heavyhearted monster, not like this SOB tied up on the ground between them.
Howard was in pain a lot of pain still, he didn’t trust the wog but he was relived to know that he wasn’t scared for life, also relieved that he had only told him part of the plan, giving out only one small bits of information, the one piece at a time as he had been taught.
The part about the Chinese SF was true but the most important part would happen tonight in their homes to their families back in Kansas. Glaring at the two with his one working eye, threaten my family will you. We will just wait and see who is laughing tomorrow morning, you wanking buggers. You might kill me then but your families will be in hell waiting on you.
A couple of MP’s arrive with the Engineer team and Boa tells them to hand cuff Howard and if he continues his cussing to gag him. Telling Sgt Williams to go with them as they escort the prisoner to the G-2 for further interrogation and to tell Andy what Howard told them both. Taking Sgt. Williams to one said he adds, “He didn’t tell us all that will happen, but I think I got the most important part. At least I hope so?”
Boa then takes his radio and calls Capt. Morris his security team commander, informing him that he needs all of the old hands, code word for the vets from Nam. Boa plans to arrange a special welcoming party, and he tells the Capt. ‘we will talk it over in thirty minuets or so.’ Nothing in the clear is said about Howard or the Chinese Special Forces that will be joining them at dinnertime tonight. Or about his plans for a warm surprise and the welcoming party for them either.
His next to last call goes to Sgt. Ski asking about having a couple of ‘owls’ code word for the quiet, older UAV’s with thermal vision to start a sweep around the Lansing jail, the code name for the Pickel Meadow camp, and to expand it outward. Again nothing is mentioned in the clear about the Chinese or his hoping to discover where they are in hiding.
First we will locate their hide and that way we can figure out their most likely avenue of approach and set up several claymore and napalm party favors for them. With luck we will be able to hit them in their final dispersal site before they start their attack. If not we will be waiting for them just before they assault our camp.
His last call to Dan on the command channel, informing him he was right in what their guest was carrying, and he asks for a face-to-face. Only then will he detail all that he discovered and the plans he is making to surprise the attacking Chinese.
Dan had heard him talking about Lansing and knows that something is afoot with the forward HQ, he has his driver turn around and heads back to the new shower facilities.
(C-52)
Another Failure
‘Of all the animals that hunt in the bush, you cannot sneak upon the wild dogs.
The pack has too many noses, they will smell you coming.
The pack has too many ears, and they will hear you,
The pack has many eyes; they will see you first,
Pray to the Lord they are not hunting you.
For they will find you in the long grass,
Before you can find them.’
Chingera Imbawa
J N
1605 hrs. Maj. Que and his men have just crossed the line of departure and will be in their final objective rally point in two more minuets, where they will quietly wait for the explosions planted by the Jihad’s agent. Then creeping slowly forward to their attack position and fifteen minuets later they will delivery a withering fire into the medical and support people helping the wounded from the explosions. At the same time his two mortar teams will fire twenty-four rounds each on the road leading into the Americans camp and into the camp allowing his assault teams to sweep forward and finish off any one still alive after the mortar fire stops. Then we load up in three of their trucks and drive half way back up the mountain grab our skis and the other equipment we stashed and make good our escape.
The Chinese SF teams start to file out from the draw as they separate into the three assault teams. Suddenly behind them the bank erupts in a loud ripping explosion that is moving from south to north and the ground is on fire, he can smell the distinct odor of napalm, now anyone coming up out of the draw will be Silhouetted, but to remain where they are is certain death. Two claymores go off as one sending their deadly shrapnel into several of his men in the number three team. Instinct and the countless hours of IA drills take over and all of the men scramble up the side away from the fire and onto the flat ground. Two more claymores go off behind them; one is close enough to Maj. Que that he is concussed by the explosion and knocked unconscious. But is otherwise unharmed as he is to the side of the blast and away from the deadly fan of shot it spews. His men not injured quickly form into an assault line as they charge east across the tract that leads down to the river, firing by teams they sweep the ground between them and the mess tents that are close to three hundred meters away with their deadly fire.
Inside the mess tents are men hidden in sandbagged positions and they return the fire, it’s not the confused and dazed crowd they had expected. More claymores go off right in front of the charging Chinese SF men decimating their ranks to just a handful of men. Then suddenly in front of the last attackers several men rise up out of the ground from spider holes and each has a Chinese type 95 with a 70 round drum magazine firing on full auto, they quickly finish off any of the attackers left standing.
Boa’s Vietnam veteran security teams, hidden in spider holes just like the VC had used on them years ago, have in turn ambushed the Chinese killing them, one of the vets spits and then says, “paybacks are a bitch, ain’t they, you Chin bastard!”
The supporting Chinese heavy MG team that was moving into position to the north is taken by surprise by the early firefight and moves quickly, setting up to assist the assault team. As the final claymores go off they start firing into the tents in support of their people.
Another large group of machine-guns comprised of Boas men are just to the east of them and six M248’s pour fire into the Chinese position from the flank. As three more of Boas men fire three of the captured Chinese PF-97 Fuel Air Explosive at them. The resulting explosions and fireball pulverize this Chinese SF MG team, and finishes off the secondary short firefight just as the American 81 mm illumination rounds light up the area. From start to finish the first skirmish lasted 23 seconds, and the second just 14 seconds more. There are only three Chinese alive and wounded from the assault group of 48 men including the Major. Of the four men in the Chin SF MG team, all are killed.
The Americans losses,
12 Killed.
15 Wounded, none seriously
A little farther up the mountain the Chinese have 2- four man mortar teams that were still together and moving toward their position near the broad spur at the 7400 foot elevation, just above bench mark 6775. When the napalm and claymores went off, because of the many overhead tree branches and the steep ground they are not able to assist the Machine-gun squads attempted firing in support of the main assault group.
When their machine gun teams is wiped out the senior Sgt tells the men to hide the two tubes and mortar rounds, then they head to the RV located three kilometers away in Little Wolf Creek, where they wait all night in case any of the other SF are still alive and can join them. With all of there radio frequencies jammed, they are unable to make contact with the Chinese Division up in the pass to let them know of their failure, and one hour before dawn they head up the mountain and start to ex-filtrate.
Unknown to them they are being tracked by Eli, and Lyle with a squad of Eli’s men intent on hunting them down and to stop them from establishing communications. Later that afternoon Eli spies them through the trees as they cross the highway just east of Sonora Pass. They are a little less then a Kilometer behind the Chinese, and because of the deep snow he knows his men who are well trained as cross country skiers can catch them. He devises a quick plan where he and one other man continue following the spoor as he sends Lyle and most of the tracking squad off on a parallel course and along a fire lane almost one kilometer south of them. Lyle and his team with out the thick underbrush to contend with can ski three times as fast the Chinese, they will get ahead of them and set up an ambush.
Eli keeping the Chinese mortar squad in sight, uses a GMRS/FRS radio with a built in GPS transmitter/receiver and sends his coordinates to Lyle every five minuets. Eli and his team buddy have closed the gap and are less then 400 meters behind the Chinese who have no idea they are being trailed. Just south of where Blue Canyon empties into Dead Man Creek Lyle springs the trap and in twelve seconds its all over, no mercy is shown in the violent punch up with both sides rapidly firing at each other, when the firing stops all of the Chinese are killed.
Eli’s team of trackers with Lyle suffers one KIA, Cpl. Car Tombie.
Eli getting to the ambush site is told the news and he breaks long-range radio silence and using code, arranges for a rendezvous with several armored personnel carriers from the forward Militia Brigade, covering our end of the pass. Our Brigade is harassing the Chinese guarding their end of the pass. Eli gives them the coordinates to pick them up along the highway and asks for another platoon to come in and pick up the dead Chinese bodies and all and their equipment.
With the body of their dead friend, they all make it to the road just after last light and have to wait for their ride. Sgt. Chirau says to Eli about the death of his life long friend, Cpl Tombie, “General Dan, his wife helped a fellow Rhodesian Cpl. Tombie and his family come to America with a lot of us, maybe his death for his new homeland helps us pay back for some of the Americans who died fighting trying to keep our Rhodesia free, Pamwe Chete for our fallen scout as he rejoins his brothers who died fighting for freedom long ago.”
Then his anger overcomes him as he turns and faces west, he raises his right arm holding his FN above his head and shouts loudly. “Up your bleeding arse you damn Chinese wankers, Chingera Imbwa. I now say it’s Chingera mhumbie, we will be coming after you just now, I will make as many of you into Ngozi as I can, you and your camel humping bhinya friends. You Chinese helped Muguby; you helped him ruin my country, but not this one. I promise you I will have my vengeance.”
Eli doesn’t say a thing, Sgt. Chirau said it all, yes their fallen friends will be avenged.
Lyle said to Eli, “I’m glad he’s our side, but what does Ngozi mean? Or mhumbie?”
“Mhumbie means wild dogs, you almost never see them but they are out there always watching. And Ngozi; it happens when a man dies far from home and he isn’t buried according to his peoples customs, when that happens his spirit will be in constant torment and condemned to wander in purgatory forever, that’s a Ngozi.”
Lyle shuddered, he wasn’t a Catholic but he understood their fears of what being cast into purgatory meant, yes thank goodness Sgt. Chirau was on their side and Eli too. Looking back towards the site of the dead Chinese SF, he feels no pity for them, nor any remorse. They started this war; I have to do my best to see that we finish it. Turning back west he walks a few paces up the road, and for him does a very uncharacteristic act, he raises his left arm and gives the good old American bird as he shouts out loud, “You Chinese ass-wipes you are so screwed, we will come and get you. When you see our shadow, you know that death has arrived. We will avenge our people.” then he turns and walks back to Sgt. Chirau to offer his condolences.
With a big smile and before the LT can say a word, the sergeant asks, “You feel better sir?”
“Yes I do thank you, I want to say how sorry I am for the lose of your friend. I’ll say some prayers for him later.”
“Thank you sir, I know you mean it to. Later tonight I will wash and clean his wounds, as is our tradition and put a white sheet over him, to prepare his body to be shipped back to Kansas our new home. Would you like to give me a hand sir, I know his family would be honored?”
“Yes I’ll help you, and I will be the one honored.”
“You said you will say some prayers, are you a MuKristo sir, a Christian?”
“Yes, I’m a Christian.”
“I’m not, but when we get some time would you tell me about Christ, I think I would like to be a good man, to be like you are sir.”
“Sergeant I would be happy to tell you about Christ.” With a smile Lyle stands up and walks backs over to Eli.
Eli smiling in return say’s, “I’m not reproaching you Lyle but your giving them the bird, that was not becoming an officer and a gentleman.”
Lyle had a doubtful look on his face as he said, “Your correct sir, but what would you do?”
“Me, I would have picked up one of their weapons and emptied a full magazine into the man who killed my friend.”
Lyle replied, “And that would be OK?”
“No,” Eli said as he shook his head.”but it would help me vent my anger, and it would be fitting. The paying back for their killing a real, a true warrior.”
Lyle shook his head side to side and looked off into the distance as he said, “It doesn’t seem right that Cpl Tombie came all this way to die here, fighting to free people whom a few months ago couldn’t be bothered, to even write a protest letter to the government of Zimbabwe and complain about what they were doing to their own people.”
“That doesn’t matter Lyle, Cpl Tombie died as a warrior should, fighting his people’s enemies, and helping America, we, all of us, are his people now.”
“I know that, but it still doesn’t make any sense.”
“War’s never make sense, but that is why we need warriors, not to be used, but as a warning that they will be used if an enemy attacks. Cpl Tombie was from the Ndebele tribe, they were an offshoot of the Zulu peoples, and for a man to die fighting for the tribe, is one of the greatest honors that a warrior can achieve. Death comes in many senseless ways, but to die in battle is not one of them, when it’s my time to go I hope its with a rifle in my hand, a curse on my lips, and with the enemy dead and dying in heaps all around me.” Eli shudders at the momentary vision of dying in bed from cancer, or living his last days in a nursing home, both thoughts flash through his mind, now those were visions that really scared him.
The Chinese 25th Corp loses an entire elite unit with out a word about the outcome of their mission. Like a fart in the wind they are gone, without a trace.
Dan classifies this report Top Secret so that the news media can’t make it into a front-page story, and thus give the Chinese any needed information.
Keep the enemy wondering, what happened to their SF people? With out information the Enemy is just grouping in the dark.
As for us we may be out numbered but we can see.
GMRS/FRS (General Mobil radio service/Family radio service, the first can reach out to 16 miles & the FRS out to 2 mile range)
GPS (Global Positioning Satellite)
Bhinya (Shona language) meaning a wild savage man who rapes robs and murders for any reason.
(C-53)
The Psychology of War
‘Attack the Enemy where he is the weakest’
Anon
A hero is no braver then an ordinary man,
but he is braver five minuets longer.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Good Luck, what’s Good Luck
Being at the right place at the right time, and prepared.
(It’s night of the same day that Howard was captured and an hour later then the Chinese SF raid.)
It’s cold and the wind is blowing. That isn’t new as it’s always blowing here, how Haskim hated the American mid-west and he told them all again by saying in English with his thick French accent. “I have lived in American for five years and I have had to visit this miserable part over a dozen times.”
No one was listening to him, he bitched all the time, food; weather, what ever, he wouldn’t stop complaining so he was best ignored.
He’s not finished as he continued, “In the summer it is too wet and too hot, American humidity I’m cursed, let me have the dry heat of home. And now in the winter, the wind that never stops, if it snows it doesn’t last but melts in a few days, and then it gets so cold you think you will never get warm again because it sucks the warmth from you. Allah what have I done to deserve such punishment why have you sent your faithful servant Haskim the destroyer of evil to this wretched place called Kansas?”
Dieter the one German in the group couldn’t help his answer, “For once you are right about something Haskim, Kansas Sucks,” the rest of the assault group laughed,
Haskim smiled too, let them have their joke, it would help, as it was dark out side and over the noise the van made on the gravel road you could hear the wind howling as it buffeted the vehicle. All of the seats had been removed so the men could make a quick exit, and when the gravel would kick up now and then the plinking noise it made would echo inside.
Glancing at his watch for the fifth time 9:15 Abdul Himal was worried, they were behind schedule, he was responsible as he had set up this operation and his plans were starting off wrong. He wouldn’t allow himself the excuse that he only had two weeks notice to locate the target, then to try and conduct a through reconnaissance. With just four drive bys in just six days, there was no way to observe the house with out being detected, and he was afraid the car they had used had been seen by the occupants on two separate occasions.
Then to make the plans harder to carry out, his four-man team was augmented at the last moment with the addition of two other teams. Then add in the fact that the twelve men had never worked together before always-equaled trouble. The first problem was in finding a common language, and that was English, which presented a problem as all of their clear radio messages could be monitored. Then he didn’t know the strengths or abilities of these strangers and had to take their word as is, he knew some of them boasted. Then there is just barely enough time to give them the plan and to rehearse a couple of walk through exercises in the rented warehouse. And no room to practice getting in and out of the moving van quietly without almost coming to a stop, they would be lucky if no one twisted an ankle or worse.
Then more time was needed in going back over the plan using a small-scale model, and looking at a couple of dated aerial photos. There just wasn’t enough time to make proper plans and the dozens of necessary rehearsals he was used to before an operation like this, especially for an attack like this to be successful. What he really needed was at least a full month to plan and set up, not just two weeks.
Then add in the test firing of the automatic weapons, which had to be done at night while driving down a deserted road, even then the local news reported that some one had fired off a machine-gun, thank Allah that was across the state line in Missouri. And there were way too many homes around to try out any of the stored grenades or explosives; we will just have to pray to the prophet asking that they work.
Then tonight to add extra insult to his plans they had taken the wrong turn in the dark maybe even two or three wrong turns and didn’t realize it until the road came to a dead end with a locked gate and a sign that said ‘No trespassing Delaware Tribal Reservation.’
Peter Rowland the Brit who was driving had made a lame joke “Ah ha! Gentlemen we have an American Indian Reservation, beware trespassers will be scalped.” All of the men laughed, but Himal knew they were laughing at him, they may all be members of the faithful but they had no respect for his problems.
It took them thirty minuets to back track and figure just where they needed to make the right turn. Their attack would be an hour later then he had been ordered to start it. Making the last turn and spying the four large fir trees that was their landmark, they slowed the van down to less then five miles an hour Peter told Gerald his security man, “OK open the sliding door and get ready to de-bus, thirty seconds to go, good hunting chaps, may Allah keep you safe, Gerald and I will be one kilometer away listening on the radio for the code word to pick you up.” He paused for a few seconds looking for the second land mark a lone pine tree with reflective tape around the trunk, when he saw it he slowed the vans speed to under five miles-per-hour, as he shouted in a loud voice, “Allah Akbar, Kill that bastard Marion’s family, first man get ready. On three, one two three go. OK now second man on a two count, one two go, next…” All eight men made the exit in order; two of them fell down into the ditch making some noise and one-man cusses in German, but with no houses close by this didn’t really matter.
Having been drooped in order they quickly formed up into their three teams, two, two man and one four men teams, they then crossed the ditch and walked through the three meters of waist high grass and got to the fence, it was old and rusty but they still had to climb over as it was in good repair. With the sky overcast there were no stars to guide by, so Abdul took a compass bearing and formed his men in there sweep line then headed southwest toward the target. They set off and walked across the hay field that was cut short and clean of all hay bales, the frozen dry dormant grass just a few inches tall crunched under their boots. This wasn’t good they were exposed with no cover or any type of concealment if needed until they got across and next to the fence-row on the other side.
Abdul used his radio to call the other two-man team that had walked in from the south past four houses. “Flea we are on the move ten minuets to target, over.”
“Fox you are late, we are in position over,” came back the anger reply.
Abdul didn’t answer; the radio talk had to be kept to the bare minimum. There was a low hill they had to crest with an old barn and a grain silo about fifty meters to the left of their compass bearing. Man was it dark they were just past the barn before he even saw its outline as they crossed the flat top of the ridge. Covering another one hundred meters, finally they could see the back of the six homes that were ahead, their target was the second from the right, just over 500 meters to go. One of the other houses had some of their Christmas lights still on outside; the Americans used so much electric light, as in this and everything else they were so wasteful.
500 meters to go, suddenly a loud Crack- thud, one of the men cried out. “Ahhh...”
What is going on which of my men shot off his rifle? Another Crack- thud and some one shouts out in English with a French accent, it sounds like Haskim “I’m hit we are being shot at.”
Ka-whoose, ka-whoose as two fireballs ascends from the barn area or the top of the silo behind them into the overcast sky.
Crack- thud, another man groans his last breath. Then the whole field is lit up blood red by the two flares floating down on parachutes. Two of his men aim their AK’s at the barn and using full auto hose it down with green tracers as the other three men run toward the targeted house.
Several rifles start shooting from the lower part of the silo and cut down his two men shooting at the barn. Abdul and the last two men are running as fast as they can, 200 meters to go and they will be in the trees by the fence.
To their left front a ka-whoose and something flies over their head and screams back toward the barn, a large explosion follows. Good the other team is using their RPG, with luck they will kill who ever ambushed them. Crack- thump as the bullet passing by him at super sonic speed and hits the ground on his left, a plate size clod of frozen grass and dirt explodes like a small fountain. Crack-thump another close round, crack thump and on his right another man is hit and falls to the ground, shit it’s the Albanian with the explosives. Abdul watching him fall, it’s as if the world has switched to slow motion as the man spins around, shot in the side or the back then falls forward on his face and rolls over a couple of times. Then the world changes again and it is now in fast forward, with no time to stop and pick up the needed explosives, as the people by the barn are shooting fast and kicking up large clods of grass and dirt all around him, more cracks and thumps.
Ka-whoose the other team has reloaded and shoots another RPG at the barn, it explodes in the hay that is stored inside and starts a large fire. Abdul yells over the radio, “Shoot the silo they are in the silo,” as he runs. A dozen quick cracks scream over their heads and instead of a thump it’s a ka-bo-ing as one of the bullets hits metal.
“Shit, he hit the rocket launcher its damaged, I can’t seat another rocket,” one of the men from team Flea yells back over the radio.
Abdul and the last man in his team are almost to the fence. They hear a sizzling noise as the two overhead flares go out; it seems longer then one minuet since they went off. And the light from the burning hay is not enough to see by, but they can’t stop running they have to reach the cover by the fence. The few lights in the houses ahead and others that are on outside are being turned off, that’s good they won’t silhouette us to the ambushers back up on the hill.
Abdul knows something is wrong, he has a sharp pain in his legs, then a feeling of whirling or is it floating sensation. I must have been shot and I’m dying flashes through his mind. With a thumb he hits the ground, flat on his back and all of the air is knocked out of him. Struggling to get his breath and reaching down to his burning legs he can feel that the pants across his thighs is torn and his legs are bloody from the barbed wire. I must have run into the fence and it flipped me over just like our instructors told us years ago would happen.
With a soft groan he rolls over and using his radio calls his people in English, “Answer by numbers, over.” A short six-count pause then, “Fox Seven” that’s Dieter, Abdul says “Fox eight.” Another quick pause then, “Flea one and two, over.” Then another short pause, “Rover one and two, over.”
Abdul is momentarily stunned, he has lost six men and we still have to attack the house and kill its occupants. His eight-man assault team and its two-man security element has been reduced to just four men for the task, they have their AK’s and a couple of grenades each. No prepared explosives or gasoline bombs, no belt fed machine-gun and the RPG launcher is damaged. After the first shots and the flares lit up the pasture the whole neighbor hood has gone black, the dogs are barking, and the people in the houses are alert and waiting.
And this being rural America he knows they are well armed and these people know how to use their weapons, but we have surprise on our side they don’t know which house we are after. It’s very unfortunate that the two men in the van are over a kilometer away and of no help.
His plan, not a great one from the start is worthless now, and the overwhelming desire of wanting to cut and run isn’t an option, thinking quickly he orders over the radio. “Eight meet me by the shed west of the garage, Flea one and two work your way in by the east side of the house. Watch the neighbor on that side don’t get caught in a cross fire, move now.”
It takes an effort to get up and he is limping but he has to move, sliding from tree truck to tree trunk he gets over by the small shed a couple seconds ahead of Dieter.
Group flea calls on the radio, “In position, over.”
Abdul answers them, “Wait for our distraction then shoot in the glass doors and sweep that floor. We will enter the basement, clearing it, over.”
“Copy, over” comes the reply.
Abdul takes a grenade off of his belt and whispers to Dieter, “When you are ready I will count to three and we will both toss a grenade through the windows.”
Sirens can now be heard in the distance, with a sneer he adds, “We will be finished in a minuet and the police are still ten minuets away.”
Dieter has taken a grenade from his belt pouch and pulls the pin, stepping over by the window next to the side door he says, “Ready,” just as one more flare pops overhead and lights up the field they had just crossed.
Abdul counts out loud, “One, two, three,” both men heave the half kg metal encased explosives as hard as they can. They hear glass break, but instead of going into the rooms both of the grenades bounce back off of the heavy mesh, squirrel and raccoon proof wire screen that Dan had installed years ago on the inside of the windows to help keep burglars out.
It takes both terrs a second or two to realize that there are two grenades on the ground in the dark maybe within a few feet of them, and they can hear the fuses sizzle as they burn down toward the detonators. Both men quickly scramble trying to get a safe distance away but four and a half seconds is a very short time. Taking one or two steps both men dive away, Dieter must have put some oomph into it when he threw his grenade and it had bounced out from the window at least fifteen feet. When it explodes he is in mid dive right over it, he neither hears nor feels a thing as the main force of the explosion and most of the chunks of shrapnel rips into his body, killing him instantly he crumbles to the ground.
Abdul is a bit luckier in his efforts to escape and just takes shrapnel into the bottom of his feet through the soles of his boots, adding to his leg wounds from the fence. Hitting the ground hard he again has the air completely knocked out of him and he rolls a couple of times sideways down a short slope, where his ribs help stop him abruptly as he hits a concrete yard gnome half hidden in the shrubs. This blow forces the last air out of his lungs and he can’t draw a breath and quickly loses consciousness for several minutes. He doesn’t hear his other two men shouting and shooting as they storm into the other end of the house.
Team Flea hears the two explosions that sound as one and shoot out the glass sliding doors and enter the house. Taking two quick steps inside they are both illuminated when the neighbor in the house behind them turns on his outside floodlights. Both men turn back that way thinking the threat is behind them, outside.
With the two men facing out and standing there silhouetted, Sissy has no problem seeing the Terrs and steps out of hiding, firing as fast as she can. In a couple of seconds she empties the seven rounds of #4 turkey load from the twelve gauge semi-auto shotgun into the two men’s legs and backs dropping both terrs in a crumpled heap. Neither is moving as she quickly ducks back into the hiding space beside the refrigerator, where she had been waiting since Neil and his friends who had been out on a night training operation first warned them of trouble. She then picks up the already loaded pump shotgun from the corner behind her and thumbs off the safety.
She listens for a few seconds and then using the vox setting on the radio she broadcasts, “Mom two of these guys are down here in the dining room, I don’t think they will be getting up again. Neil before you guys enter the house let me know, or I’ll be shooting one of you.” You could hear the tears in her voice and the controlled anger she felt in having to defend her home, but not any uncontrolled sobs, those tears would come later.
Evelyn, who was down the hallway by the front door guarding it and the one leading to the downstairs, tells her daughter over the radio, “Stay put, I’m turning the outside floodlights on now.”
Neil calls back on the radio a few seconds later, “Mom, Sissy we have one team of four men sweeping the yard, stay inside. David Olson is in charge of that group once his team secures the outside, release the dogs they will check the rest of the house for you, then you can turn on the inside lights.”
He then adds, “We have one wounded prisoner up here by the barn. After I took his radio and listened in, that’s how we heard their plan of attack. We promised him we wouldn’t kill him and he’s talking. Mr. Withers and Cole who speaks French are going to stay and guard him. Mr. Slocomb and my team are heading back over to their drop off and pick up point. When we are ready, Mr. Withers will have our guest call for a pick up. Those two in their van will surrender or die, it will be over real fast either way, over.”
Evelyn tells him, “Don’t take any risks Neil, shoot out the tires and the engine, and then pop a couple more flares, the Deputies will be here soon let them handle it.”
He answers with a determined statement, “Sorry Mom but the answer is no, they started it and we’re going to finish it, over.”
“Neil this is Green-One, Sorry to cut in, but we found one dead terr twenty meters from the fence still in the pasture. And we just found two more here on the side by the garage one is dead and the other S.O.B.’s is wounded, unconscious and now hog-tied. Mrs. Marion when you turn on the inside lights and give the OK, Mark and I will come in and check the two terrorist in the dining room, over.”
“David, Sissy and I are in the kitchen now, come in the sliding doors as you’re singing the state anthem, that way I know it’s you.”
David is impressed by the quick thinking on her part, and smiles as he answers with, “Roger that, over.” This is one smart family, hanging out with Neil and those two old retired Army Sergeants since the invasion has sure taught me a lot. When we graduate at the end of the first semester in two weeks we are going to be fairly well trained, and now a bit seasoned.
Scared is a mild word to use for what just happened, glancing at his watch, these last fifteen minuets. Thank goodness the training we had been doing every weekend carried us through, with only a few injuries from thorns and splinters and falling down in the dark, luck or training, I’m not sure which? Before entering the house he starts singing loudly, “Home, home on the range, where the deer and the antelope play…”
The trap is set, the call made and the Terrorist Van comes back to pick up the team members, the terrs get-away driver Peter surrenders with out a fight, but Gerald reaches for a weapon and is shot dead by Sam Wolf, Neil’s best friend.
Abdul and Haskim survive their wounds, and along with Peter the three terrs are interrogated separately and with a little added persuasion from the DA, the three talk before they are handed over to the FBI.
The DA simply tells them either a quick trial, then a slow death from hanging for attempted murder of the Marion family, or if they are lucky, life as a POW until the war is over. Abdul knows Haskim will talk or is already talking so he tells the DA and the FBI agents present everything, from the location of their several supply caches and the dozen safe houses he knew of across the US and other information that allows the agents to round up half a dozen more cells, all over the country, where all of them are just waiting for targets to be identified, and they are given the go ahead to attack the infidels.
The Sheriff finds it hard to believe that two old men in their early sixties and ten seventeen and eighteen year olds have killed or captured a dozen terrorists. Just using a couple of old night vision scopes and some old pre-1965 battle rifles, i.e. two FN’s, eight M1 Grande’s, and two shotguns.
He forgot to add to his report, the several weekends of training and the teamwork they had learned all contributed to their success. And darn lucky that part of the group was doing a night compass march and that lone pine tree was one of their way-points.
The one buddy team had just reached it when they saw the approaching van and hunkered down next to the tree waiting for the van to drive on by. When then clearly heard the shouted order, ‘Allah Akbar, Kill that bastard Marion’s family.’ The two young men froze in place and quietly watched the terrorists debus and cross over the fence. As they were hiding within ten meters in the long grass between the ditch and the fence they could see the curved magazines of the AK’s, they knew this threat was real and where this terrorist bunch was heading too.
After the terrs were 200 yards or so away from them, they called Neil on his radio to alert the rest of the group of the approaching danger. One of the training NCO’s said ‘ambush drill number four’. As Neil used his cell phone and called his Mother and told her of the threat coming their way. He told her to use two of the hand held radios, and to set them to the same frequency they were on. Then he had just enough time to get the Heavy Barrel FN with it’s night vision scope up into the old silo, as Sam got the flares ready, and the other men deploying on line away from the barn and silo, just after the terrs went past them.
Technically what they did was not self-defense, as they were the ones to open fire first, but the prosecuting attorney wasn’t going to make a stink. And the State Attorney General clamped a news black out on the whole incident, claiming that it was an international investigation. So as not to give the people who sent the terrorist any idea of what happened to their people.
The part about an international investigation turns out to be true as MI-5 of Scotland Yard sends over two of their top investigators to have a chat with the captured Brit, Peter Rowland. Peter is offered the same choice as Abdul and Haskim, to keep from being hanged in Kansas (or so he is lead to believe) as he happily tells all who will listen about several other terror cells in the UK, and connections to two more in France.
Just before the local high schools 1st semester is over the Sheriff gets permission from the KBI (Kansas Bureau of Investigation) and the FBI to let these future warriors shoot the spare captured weapons from the warehouse including the extra RPG’s rockets and throw the three and a half cases of grenades that are not needed as evidence.
The now larger team of teenagers jump at the chance to have a real live fire and some hands on training exercise in a quarry five miles away, you might say it’s a way for them to left off steam and as a reward for being vigilant.
And of course all this firing of automatic weapons and using explosives is conducted under the supervisions of one state agent and the Sheriff, hey why not take advantage of learning and seeing what these terrorist weapons are capable of doing, besides it’s fun. And the Sheriff hasn’t had a chance to throw a live hand grenade since he was a buck private back in Vietnam, almost a whole lifetime ago.
So on Saturday morning, sixty young men and nine young ladies who will graduated early and join the Military or the Militia, show up on that day for some special training with the two Vietnam Veteran’s, their instructors, there training Sgt’s. Before any shooting is allowed the Sheriff has one of his deputies take a group photo, part of the next generation of Patriots present and reporting for duty. The Sheriffs smile is genuine as he feels a strong sense of heartfelt pride just in being around these young patriots.
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