Savage Cargo

Low Level Terror

By Willard White

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Willard White

License Notes

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The events, characters and organizations in this book are fictitious.

Low Level Terror/Willard White - 1st ed.

This book is dedicated to Diane, who is very patient and keeps an open mind.

LOW LEVEL TERROR

Prologue: The Chase

03:50 local time, Kandahar Region, Afghanistan: I settled on the ground in the dark with my men to wait for the fireworks to begin. As we had briefed, five men armed with grenade launchers were prone on the ground in front of the house, three more were in similar positions at the rear. Our target was a combined house and barn made of mud. The walls were a foot thick and were impervious to small-arms fire. Two sentries were smoking and leaning over a rail by the house, talking.

Our strategy was to assault the house by firing grenades through the front windows, and then shoot any survivors who came out the door. The shooters at the rear of the structure had been instructed to fire only on two legged animals coming out the barn door.

As 04:00 ticked off, we began our assault. The sentries were knocked down by small arms and several grenades penetrated the windows and exploded inside. When my night vision device recovered, the house looked no different than before. Then it became apparent that the windows and the door were gone. I didn't expect any return fire and there was none. The noise and violence was replaced by a sudden and complete silence for a few seconds, then a few shouts of jubilation. My men began to get to their feet and high-five each other. We'd been successful. We had helicoptered for an hour, and then walked for an hour and a half in the dark to affect this ambush. We had managed to surprise and kill Mohamed X, one of the most feared terrorists in Afghanistan. I took a deep breath; somehow it couldn't be this easy. Never in my experience in combat had a plan been executed so perfectly.

Fifteen seconds later a large American-built SUV burst out through the barn doors at full throttle.

After a short delay that seemed like an eternity, the second squad fired on the machine but, although the windows were shattered it turned right, away from them, and accelerated into the village. I called for a cease-fire and listened intently to the roar of the V-8 engine winding up and shifting gears. I could track it by ear through the small village. The sound receded up the valley road to the southeast, toward the Pakistani border. I began to curse in that thorough way that you only learn in the army.

Where did that come from Sergeant Hale? How in the hell did intelligence miss a three-ton SUV? Were they dozing at their monitors?

Sgt. Hale shrugged in the dark. You recall there was a two hour gap in the satellite coverage early last night, sir.

But how did they escape the blast?

Their meeting must have ended early. I suppose they must have already passed into the barn. The blast wouldn't have hurt them through the internal wall.

It made sense. Anybody hurt?

Williams, Sir. He couldn't get out of the way. Broken arm, broken ribs, his left ear is dangling by some skin.

I cursed again. Anything useful in the house?

Yes, Sir. Eight adult male bodies, a laptop and a bag of CDs.

One of the bodies is Mohamed X, right?

Don't know yet, Sir. It doesn't look like it. We're still checking. It's kind of a mess. The roof's on fire.

So I see. Have the men get the animals out of the barn and throw everything out of the house so we can go through it more thoroughly. Almost certainly that was Mohamed X in the SUV. Nobody else is important enough to have a vehicle like that.

No, Sir.

I moved to the rear of the structure. Four soldiers were kneeling by a man lying on the ground. When they recognized my voice, they made room for me.

Williams, I said. It looks like you've had some luck.

Yes,Sir, Williams ground out tightly. It really hurts when I talk sir. Could I have an aspirin?

I clamped down on a laugh, then let it out. You're going to need more than an aspirin, Williams.

Excuse me, sir. A man I identified in the dark by his actions as a medic named Dennis Hackett gently pushed me aside. OK, men, lift on three: One, two, three. Two men on the far side lifted Williams so Hackett could wrap ace bandage around his arm and his torso. Williams grunted in pain.

He seems to need more pain killer, I commented.

No, Sir.

You're the expert, Hackett. When he's ready to transport, draft four men to carry him back to pick-up zone Bravo. I'll arrange med-evac there at zero-four-fifty.

That's in forty-five minutes sir.

Yeah, Hackett, and it's five klicks away, is that a problem?

No, Sir.

I smiled in the dark. Hackett was catching on.

Williams.

Yes, Sir?

You're going to a field hospital. Then you're going to a hospital in Germany. After that you'll be going home for a while, understand?

No, Sir! I'll just get an aspirin and a band-aid and be right back sir.

Excellent attitude Williams, but I don't think you'll be back for a while. I stood up.

Sgt. Hale confronted me; he seemed agitated, unusual for him. Captain Sanders! I smell gasoline!

It took me several seconds to comprehend the meaning. So the SUV's gas tank had been holed in the firefight. Sgt. Hale, get your scouts started down the road after that SUV, detail a squad to carry Williams here and our loot to pick-up zone Bravo. Then get everyone else formed up. Mohamed's going to run out of gas soon and we're going to catch up with him.

Ten klicks down the road a scout named Jerry Scales keyed his radio.

Alpha Dog Six, this is Alpha Dog Two: I've spotted the car, sir. It's parked in the center of the road.

That's good Dog Two, I transmitted. Now stay away from it. It may be booby-trapped. We'll be up there in five.

You'll need to see this Sir.

What is it, man?

Two bodies on the ground in front of the vehicle.

OK, Jerry. You and Travis go two-hundred meters on down the road and wait. We have it in sight now, we'll be right there.

Alpha Dog Two. One of them just moved, sir.

Go on down the road Alpha Dog Two, but keep them in sight.

Alpha Dog Two, roger.

Two bodies lay on the ground in the feeble moonlight. One Taliban was very young, and quite dead. The other was old. His sucking chest wound was blowing dark bubbles every time he breathed out, but his eyes tracked me when I knelt down beside him.

What can we get you? I asked.

He shook his head. Mahmud, he said.

The interpreter kneeled down beside me.

Talk to him, Jimmy. Ask him if there's anything we can do for him. I suppose morphine would be good.

Jimmy had a short exchange with the dying man. Then produced his canteen and held his head up and spilled a teaspoon of water into his mouth.

Now ask him about Mohamed X, I said.

A short conversation followed, during which the interpreter had to put his ear closer and closer to the old man's mouth in order to hear.

When the bubbles stopped forming on the old man's chest, the interpreter rocked back on his heels.

Well?

He says Mohamed shot him.

Why?

'Cause he's old.

Old?

He said Mohamed shot the kid because he was injured in the firefight and would slow him down. He shot the old man because he was old and would slow him down.

Did he say which way he went?

There are two of them, they went east on the road.

Towards the border.

He didn't say that, Jimmy said. But that's the obvious conclusion.

Sgt. Hale! I called.

Yes, Sir.

Anything useful in the truck?

No, Sir.

How far do you make us from the border, Sgt. Hale?

About ten klicks, Sir.

That's what it looks like to me. Get the scouts started; get the men ready to go. He can't be more than fifteen minutes ahead of us.

Yes, Sir.

I know the men are tired. We've run ten miles already tonight, but Mohamed is one bad character. We really want to catch this guy.

You know, Sir, we'll be out here when the sun comes up.

Yeah. I know.

Travis is dead! Jerry's angst came over the radio quite clearly. I noticed he wasn't keeping up with me on the other side of the road. It took several minutes to find him. His fingers have been cut off and he's been shot in the chest sir.

I forced my voice to a lower octave and a slower cadence. Did they get his radio?

It's not here sir.

We'll be up with you in a few minutes, Dog Two. Keep a sharp eye. They must be nearby.

That's affirmative, Kemo Sabe, we must be nearby.

I held the radio in front of my face and looked at it as if it were defective. I broke my stride and the gaps in the columns began to close up.

Captain Harry Sanders, aren't you going to speak to me? There was no mistaking the mid-eastern accent; it was Mohamed X. Your man Travis wasn't using his radio, so I picked it up.

I wondered if Jerry were close enough to him to hear the stolen radio if I spoke. I couldn't think of anything to say.

How do you know my name?

Travis told me all about you and your unit, Captain Sanders. He said you were a pilot, doing your obligatory tour as an infantry officer. So how do you like it down here on earth?

You're a dead man, Mohamed. We'll run you down and capture you, then we'll put you on trial. You might as well walk in here right now and give yourself up.

You think your super-troops can catch me? This is my country out here. If you do catch me it will go badly for you; just as it did for poor Travis.

I realized that if Jerry could hear Mohamed's speaker, maybe we could locate him. I needed to keep him talking.

We're closing in on you now Mohamed. Lay your weapon down and step away from it.

Mohamed was silent; I guessed he was moving again.

All I could do at this point was change our tactical frequency. Dogs, go Tac two, I said into the radio.

Sgt. Hale stepped in front of me. Sir, I've dispatched two more scouts. I'll detail four men to take care of Travis. Can we keep going, sir?

I nodded my head in the darkness. Sgt. Hale gave the orders and the chase resumed.

Alpha Six, Alpha Dog Four, over. The excitement in the scout's voice was palpable.

I keyed my radio, Go ahead Four, this is Six.

Sheepherder's hut up here by the roadside. A little corral behind it. Sheep all over the place, but the corral is empty except for two bodies.

OK Alpha Dog Four, go on down the road a hundred and wait for us. We'll check it out.

Alpha Dog Four.

The sheepherder had managed to crush a skull with his crook before going down with a single bullet in his chest. The man he'd killed was not Mohamed. The herder's resistance had been heroic, but it hadn't been nearly enough. The pitiful little hut contained his family. A woman, a boy and a baby were lying on the dirt floor. Each one had been shot in the chest.

Alpha Dog Six, Alpha Dog Four. There are horse tracks on the road, we didn't notice them before.

Thanks Four, head on out. We're coming. Follow the horse; let me know if you lose it.

Alpha Dog Four.

We chased Mohamed into the rising sun. After 45 minutes, I called for a break. The low sun found its way under the helmets and illuminated the fatigue on my men's faces. The drinking water was nearly gone and the energy bars we'd carried were long gone. Nobody complained about the effort. I noticed the troops maintained their intervals and watched me expectantly. They were as anxious to chase this guy down as I was. A surge of pride washed over me like a wave at the beach, what an honor it was to serve with these guys.

The scouts located the place where the horse had turned off the road, towards the south to cross the border into Pakistan which was only two klicks away. Without discussion, the scouts followed and my two columns of exhausted men climbed out of the road and headed cross-country.

Soon after we left the road we encountered an area that was so rocky we had to slow down to a walk. Tracking was so slow and difficult that I considered giving up the chase entirely and taking us back to the pick-up zone. Then Scales noticed the tracks indicated the horse was dragging one foot. A thousand meters later on we came upon the horse lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Mohamed had killed a family to get the horse and it wasn't much of a horse. It was small and skinny and had large patches of skin showing where its hair had fallen out. The horse had lived a tough life and now it was over. Apparently it had stepped on a rock and gone lame and Mohamed had cut its throat. He'd hacked himself a steak out of the horse's hindquarters and continued to the southeast on foot. I studied his footprints carefully for some irregularity, some sign of fatigue or injury and found none.

I looked at my own men, there were but fifteen with me now, counting the pair of scouts who had witnessed the dying horse and moved on ahead. We were at the Pakistani border and Mohamed was almost within our grasp.

The sophisticated GPS in my hand had drawn a line at the border on the map display. I was almost surprised and a little disappointed that there was no such line on the ground. No fence, no sign, nothing but rocks and desolation in all directions. I knew there would be a couple of manned checkpoints to the east where the road crossed over, but here in the midst of this bleak moonscape was nothing at all to indicate we were passing into Pakistan.

But my Mission Commander who was sitting at a desk watching our progress on a satellite display knew. Alpha Dog Six, this is Post House Six, over.

I sighed and pulled the radio off my belt.

Alpha Dog Six. This frequency's compromised, sir.

You're finished there anyway, Dog Six. You're at the border. It's time to turn it around, over.

My face went hot. The tactical genius had ignored what I just said and had gone ahead and broadcast our position. Convulsively I squeezed the radio. I say again: Our frequency is compromised, the back-up frequency is compromised. Evidently you can't read us very well, Post House Six.

I say again, Dog Six. Turn around, you're at the border. You'll not have air support if you proceed, over.

Post House Six waited fifteen seconds for my reply before he broadcast again. Alpha Dog Six, this is Post House Six, I say again: Turn it around Dog Six, you're at the border, you'll cause an International Incident if you continue, over.

I controlled the urge to throw the radio against a nearby rock. I waited a few seconds to calm down and get my voice under control. I noticed Sgt. Hale and several nearby troops who had overheard the radio conversation were staring at me. I put the radio to my mouth: Go tactical frequency three, I said.

Hale was facing me from five meters away. Does the Colonel have tactical three?

No, Sergeant Hale, he doesn't. Now make sure the scouts check in on tac-three.

The horse was still bleeding. Mohamed had departed no more than fifteen minutes earlier. That he had taken the time to cut himself some meat indicated that he had no idea how close we were.

Everyone was looking at me expectantly. I gave the signal to move out.

Ten minutes later Alpha Dog Four came scrambling down the hill in front of us, waving his arms excitedly and pointing to his eyes. The scouts had a visual!

Do you have a shot? I asked when we met.

Not with an M16 sir. Can you get Sir Charles up there? He pointed up the hill.

We had a sniper in the unit named Charles Blanton. Sir Charles was the name we had given him because of his large nose and ears. I located Sir Charles, who was maintaining his interval some ten meters away, and pointed my finger. Sir Charles posted himself immediately.

Sir Charles, I said, do you see Weaver up there on the ridge-line?

Yes, Sir.

Weaver has a visual on our man. He thinks you might be able to shoot him.

Yes, Sir!

Go!

Sir Charles turned, brought his eleven pound rifle to port arms and commenced climbing towards the scout's position.

I expelled one breath and took another and addressed my expectant troops. We'll just stroll that direction now, men. We'll maintain silence and wait beneath the crest of the ridge. We sure don't want to spook him now.

Above us on the ridge-line, Sir Charles' rifle fired, then after a ten second interval, fired again. My heart was in my throat, with every step I had to resist the urge to run up the hill. We situated our men beneath the military crest; then Sgt. Hale and I crawled to Weaver's position.

Sir Charles lay on the ground behind his weapon, looking down-range through his scope at a brown and rocky valley.

Weaver was excited. We knocked him down with the first shot! he said as if he had pulled the trigger himself. His voice was unnaturally loud in the cold crisp air. I had an automatic urge to shush him, but after the fifty caliber sniper rifle had fired there was little need to be quiet. He got up and started running, bobbing and weaving. We missed him the second time. He dropped his AK and his meat. He appears to be carrying his arm close to his body...

Sir, Sir Charles interrupted from his prone position. We've got problems.

I dragged my binoculars out of their case. I trained them on the lone figure down in the valley zigzagging his way toward the other side while holding his left arm against his side with his right. The trouble Sir Charles had alluded to was a white truck coming down the slope on the other side of the valley to meet the injured Mohamed. Several figures were visible in the back of the truck.

Can you hit the truck?

Yes, Sir, I can. It's eleven hundred meters, but I'm not sure we want to do that.

I was surprised at the lack of cooperation from the normally gung-ho troop. Why not?

Eh, sir, your optics aren't as good as mine. Focus carefully on the truck bed.

I obliged him and adjusted the 10X50s to sharpen the truck. I couldn't believe my eyes. Charles, tell me that's not a quad fifty anti-aircraft weapon.

Yes, Sir. I believe it is.

As I watched, the truck turned sideways and slid to a stop. The crew in the rear unshipped the weapon, spun it around and pointed the four machine guns up the hill in our general direction. We're already within their range, I pointed out.

Yes, Sir. They haven't made our position yet, but I expect Mohamed will help them with that little detail when he gets up to them, Charles said.

I rolled so I could see Hale. Sgt. Hale, what do you think? Should we start a fire-fight with a device that has a cyclic rate of fire of 3,000 rounds per minute?

Hale looked meaningfully at Sir Charles' single shot rifle. And we can fire, oh, four rounds per minute?

Four accurate rounds per minute, Weaver added.

But are they going to chase us down with the truck? I asked. If they were to catch us in the open with that thing....

How many spare tires do you think they have? Hale muttered.

Can we really not get air support? Weaver wanted to know.

No, we're five kilometers into Pakistan, I said. We're on our own.

Ambush. Hale said. We can set a trap for it. Let it get so close we can use our grenade launchers.

I don't think they're going to let that happen, I said. They'll put out scouts.

If we just slither away, they'll come after us with it, Weaver said.

Sir Charles, I said, can you see more troops on the slope above them? It's not likely they're out here by themselves.

More vehicles coming over the ridge sir.

I could see them myself. It was a regular convoy. Mohamed must have put Travis's radio to good use.

I reached a decision. We have to withdraw. I turned to Sgt. Hale. If they follow us, that area where he killed the horse is pretty rocky, they won't be able to get a vehicle through there. And it would be a big mistake for them to come after us on foot. Once we get back to the border we'll have air support.

Sir Charles was incensed. What about Mohamed?

Forget about Mohamed, I said. He wins this one. Let's get started.

CHAPTER 1

Ten years later:

The terrain was perfect for an ambush. The woods on the higher ground to the right would hide a battalion, it was the obvious choice. I knew it was going to happen. I had been here before.

Close it up driver! I barked from the back seat. He had allowed too large of a gap to develop behind the Hummer in front of us. This was no way to run a convoy. We were the last Hummer in the line and if we lagged behind the zealots would separate us and kill us.

Close up, dammit!

The driver, a nineteen year old kid from Toledo named Josh, evidently didn't hear me. His helmet was sitting down on his shoulders. His foot had slipped off the gas pedal and the Hummer was drifting to a stop.