The first vehicle he saw clearly was an M-1A2 Abram’s tank. He was safe, he hoped. He laid his weapons in the back of the truck, raised his hands to the sky and walked out ahead of the truck toward the oncoming tank. He was still naked and covered in dried blood. Some of the knife cuts to his body still wept blood and plasma. They burned like fire with his sweat.
The tank came to a rocking stop in the middle of the road. M-16A2 rifle barrels pointed at him from several positions on and around the tank. He kept walking up the road toward it, arms raised to the sky.
“Halt!” a voice yelled from around the tank.
Tommy stopped and turned all the way around so the soldiers could see he wasn’t carrying anything concealed on his body. He stopped facing the tank once again, and waited.
“I am Captain Tommy LeSade of the Fifth Ranger Battalion. I was taken captive yesterday afternoon. I managed to escape,” he yelled at the tank, so he could be heard over the idling diesel engine.
“Do not move!”
“I repeat, I am Captain Tommy LeSade of the United States Army Fifth Ranger Battalion. I was captured yesterday afternoon. I escaped my captors earlier this morning!”
“I repeat! Do not Move!” the voice stated emphatically, ignoring what Tommy had said.
A dusty, desert tan camouflage HumVee pulled around the tank and came to a stop. The doors opened and two soldiers climbed out. They slowly approached him, weapons leveled and ready for immediate use should he give them reason.
They stopped ten feet away.
“We are with the American Armed Forces. We...” one of the soldiers started before Tommy rudely interrupted him.
“Don’t you fucking understand English, Sergeant?” Tommy interrupted calmly. “I am Captain Tommy LeSade of the United States Army Fifth Ranger Battalion. I was captured yesterday afternoon and managed to escape earlier this morning. Do you understand that?”
“He speaks English!” the sergeant said, looking over at his partner. Tommy glared at them as if they were imbeciles.
“What’s in the truck?” the sergeant asked, looking over at the truck.
“My gear and weapons,” Tommy said. “Lots and lots of weapons.”
“Why are you naked, Captain?” the sergeant asked. “You’ve been cut up some.”
“I’ll live,” Tommy replied. “I didn’t stop to get dressed.”
“What kind of weapons?” the sergeant asked.
“My sniper rifle and a lot of AKs. Some RPGs. My survival gear,” he replied, feeling they were trying to talk him in circles to get him confused, in case he was a well trained enemy soldier. Or a spy sent to infiltrate the American forces.
“Where were you held captive, Captain?”
“A village northeast of here,” Tommy said calmly. “The only survivors were the children,” he added.
“We’ll check it out. How far northwest?”
“Northeast. The village is northeast of here. Nearly sixty miles as the crow flies. Farther by road,” he replied. “Can you contact Major Andrew Ryan? He’s a Blackhawk pilot. I don’t know what unit he’s with. I’ve only met him twice,” he added, beginning to waver on his feet.
“We’ll see, later. Hold your hands out, palm up,” the sergeant said. Tommy complied.
“Dave, go check out the truck. Don’t touch anything! It might be booby-trapped!”
“You’re not very bright, are you sergeant?” Tommy said.
“Oh, I’m plenty bright, Captain. Plenty careful and plenty alive. I plan on keeping my ass and the asses of my men that way, too!”
“Yes, I guess I do understand your caution,” Tommy said thoughtfully. “I guess you are bright enough after all sergeant.”
“I’ll do.”
“Just weapons and gear, like he said, Sarge,” Dave said from behind him as he returned from the truck. “American cammies, sniper rifle and survival pack. Bunch of AKs and RPGs, too,” he added.
“Well, maybe you are who you claim to be,” the sergeant said doubtfully. “I’ll tell you what, captain. You go to the truck and pull out whatever is yours. Come halfway back, stop and spread it all out on the ground. Then, come the rest of the way back. Got it?”
“Got it,” Tommy answered, then turned and walked to the truck. He could understand their caution. Americans had been killed by car bombs and suicide bombers and what the military were taking to calling IEDs (improvised explosive device). The sergeant didn’t plan to get his name, or the name of any of his men on the list, either.
Tommy collected his gear and walked halfway back. He spread it all out on the ground, then walked the rest of the way back.
“One question,” the sergeant said as he approached. “Why didn’t you stop and get dressed along the way?”
Tommy shrugged. “Saved a lot of time and trouble, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” the sergeant smiled. “Dave, check out his gear.” Dave walked over to his spread out gear and looked around. He didn’t touch anything. After a minute he came back. “Looks okay to me.”
“Okay. George?” the sergeant yelled over his shoulder.
“Yeah, Sarge?”
“Light that truck up!”
As the barrel of the tank lowered and the turret turned to face the truck, the sergeant led Tommy and Dave over beside the tank and stuck his fingers in his ears. They did the same.
The tank bellowed and the pickup truck ceased to be. There was just a smoldering crater where it used to be. The truck itself was smoking twisted scraps of metal scattered across the desert behind the smoking crater.
“Okay, let’s inspect your gear and get the hell out of here,” the sergeant said, leading the way back over to Tommy’s gear.
After an exceptionally thorough inspection the sergeant told Tommy to pack it up and load it in the back of the HumVee. And to get dressed, he was tired of looking at his bloody naked ass and swinging meat. He still wasn’t convinced that Tommy was who he claimed to be.
When Tommy was packed up, the sergeant called his medic over and had him clean and patch the knife cuts on Tommy’s body. The medic was aghast at the number, depth and randomness of the slashes.
“They wanted you to live a long time, Captain,” he said, cleansing the wounds and putting antiseptic cream and bandages over them.
“They had other things in mind,” Tommy said. “They wanted me to suffer.”
“Why didn’t you?” the medic asked. “I mean, why did they let you escape?”
“They didn’t let me escape,” Tommy smiled. “I just have better control of myself than they did.”
“You said, Major Andrew Ryan?” the sergeant, who Tommy learned was named Murry, asked, as he walked up and studied the number of cuts and bandages.
“You’re a tough sumbitch, I’ll give you that,” he added. “You say this Major can positively identify you?” he added, looking Tommy in the eyes.
“Yes,” Tommy replied.
“You better hope, ‘Captain’. He’s on his way. If he don’t know you, you’re dead meat!”
“He knows me.”
“You smell like a fucking bloody goat!” Murry said, then turned away.
“Yeah, I do,” Tommy smiled at his retreating back.
* * * * *
The Blackhawk helicopter circled the convoy, then flared and began to float to the ground. When it was firmly on the ground and the rotor nearly stopped the door opened and Ryan stepped out to the ground.
Sergeant Murry, Dave and Tommy stood in front of the HumVee and watched him approach.
“Don’t say a word, mister,” Murry told Tommy as Ryan got closer.
“Well, Captain LeSade. We meet again. It’s becoming a habit, it seems,” Ryan said as he approached, hand extended to Tommy.
“Yes, it is,” Tommy agreed.
“Captain LeSade, my men and I sincerely apologize for your treatment while in our company and custody. No disrespect was intended, I assure you, Sir.”
“None was taken
, Sergeant Murry. I assure you,” Tommy replied.
“Custody?” Ryan looked confused for a second. “Oh yeah, I’d almost forgot. Rumor has it, Captain, that a certain Colonel Lake is super pissed at you.”
“Pissed at me? For what?”
“He’s got you listed as AWOL, that’s all I know,” Ryan said.
“AWOL?” Tommy mused, the light coming on in his head. He had been set up from the word go and he hadn’t seen it coming. Trouble was he had no proof.
He remembered his father’s warning from years ago. He could still see it typed across the computer monitor. ‘Son, never, ever, as long as you live, trust your government or the CIA.’
At the time he hadn’t understood, but he was beginning to, now. Cramer and General Hawk had played him for a patsy. They had sent him on a mission he wasn’t meant to survive.
“Captain, maybe I had better give you a lift back to headquarters. You need to clear this up, quick!” Ryan said.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I do.”
On the flight back to headquarters Tommy told Ryan the entire story. Ryan swore to stand beside him, no matter the outcome.
“You know if you accuse a senior officer of wrongdoing without indisputable proof you will face court-martial procedures, and more than likely be sent to a military prison somewhere. Most likely Leavenworth.”
“I know. Trouble is, I don’t have proof, Major. All I’ve got is my reputation and word.”
“Yes; and the General has that and one hell of a lot more backing him. Without proof, you’re dead meat. Period!” Ryan said looking across at him. “It may be the best to just talk to Colonel Lake. Explain everything; and maybe, just maybe, he will forget the AWOL charge.”
“You obviously don’t know the Colonel,” Tommy said. “He’s strictly by the book.”
Ten minutes later the chopper landed at headquarters. They got a jeep to give them a ride to the sniper battalion and Colonel Lake.
Colonel Lake’s orderly announced their arrival and as requested by Tommy, asked for an hour so Tommy could get cleaned up.
“Request denied!”
“You tell the Captain to get his ass in here right fuckin’ now! I want a goddamned explanation! And I want it now!” they heard Lake bellow behind the closed door of his canvas office.
The orderly was ghost white when he came back through the door. He started to speak but Tommy said, “I heard. Thanks anyway, Lieutenant.” Tommy knocked on the door and entered. He approached the Colonel’s desk. Stopped, came to attention and saluted. “Captain LeSade reporting as ordered, Sir!”
“Explain!”
“It will take a while, Sir.”
“I’ve got five years before I retire, Captain. It better be good! Have a seat and get started.”
The Colonel remained silent throughout the whole recital. He listened very carefully to every word Tommy said. He seemed to soften slightly when Tommy told him about his capture and escape.
“Captain, do you have even the slightest bit of evidence against General Hawk and this Cramer guy?”
“No, Sir,” Tommy said. “Not a shred.”
“Yet, you expect me to buy it hook, line and sinker?”
“Yes, Sir. I’ve said nothing but the truth.”
“You don’t think the General will tell the truth?”
“No, Sir. Not about this. Would you?”
“First of all, Captain. I wouldn’t become involved in something like this. But, if I were a greedy man, and I did. I would lie ‘till hell turned arctic!”
“I thought it had gone through all the proper channels, Colonel. Who am I to question the General?”
“You’ve got a point,” Lake said thoughtfully. “So here’s what I’ll do,” he continued. “I’ll make some discrete inquiries and see if any mission like this was authorized. If it has, I’ll clear you up. If it hasn’t, without proof from you, I have no choice but to recommend court-martial proceedings against you on a number of charges. So, I suggest, Captain you get proof, somehow, somewhere. And take a shower, you smell like a fucking goat at a slaughter house! You’re dismissed, Captain!”
“Sir,” Tommy said as he stood, then saluted. He did an about face and left the office.
“How’d it go?” Ryan asked when Tommy came out of the Colonel’s office and closed the door behind him.
“Not good,” Tommy replied. “Without proof, I’m history.”
“Then, let’s get proof.”
“Where?”
“Let’s start with Cramer.”
“If you were Cramer, would you be hanging around?”
“He believes you’re dead.”
“Maybe.”
“Let’s go find out.”
“I’ve got to get cleaned up. I smell like a fuckin’ goat!”
“Yeah, good idea,” Ryan said, waving his hand under his nose and rolling his eyes up in his head. “It’s hard to breathe around you,” he laughed.
Tommy couldn’t believe the amount of dirt and blood he washed from his body. His rectum began to pound again. He ignored it. He would need massive amounts of antibiotics to ward off any kind of infection or disease.
He already knew the future. He was going to kill Cramer and the General. But not before he proved his innocence and sent them to jail in disgrace.
If he had to, he’d go to jail with them just so he could see their eyes when they died. Their death would be very slow and very painful.
His first stop after leaving his quarters was at the medical tent. The medic gave him a shot of penicillin in the ass and a bottle of about fifty pills with directions on how often to take them; twice a day until they were all gone. He could do that, he told himself.
Ryan asked after seeing the bottle if he had the ‘clap’. He told Ryan that he may have a lot of things far worse. He didn’t elaborate further. Ryan just laughed and shook his head.
“I don’t know about this younger generation,” he commented, as they walked toward the CIA office. “How can you chance getting laid? So much shit out there that will lay you out on a pine slab, dead. You must have balls of steel, or a death wish. You’re not gay, are you?”
“No, I’m not gay,” Tommy assured him. “But, like you said, there’s so much shit out there, why gamble?”
“I hear you,” Ryan said, pointing at a door to one side. “This it?” Tommy stared at the limp American flag to one side of the door and nodded his head. “This is it,” he responded and then turned and pushed through the door.
A different receptionist was sitting at the desk as was there before. Tommy asked for Cramer. The receptionist stared at them blankly, as if he were brain dead.
“Cramer, what section is he with?” Tommy asked seriously, thinking maybe the young man hadn’t heard the first time.
“We don’t have a Cramer here,” the man responded.
Tommy moved so quickly and accurately the receptionist could only squeal in pain and surprise. Ryan just blinked.
“I’ll ask you one more time, then I’m going to cause you so much pain you’ll squeal for a month. Now, where’s Niles Cramer?”
“He, he left. I don’t know where. Yesterday. Red Cross. Pakistan, maybe! I don’t know for sure. I swear. I don’t know!” The receptionist was ghost white when Tommy released him. He nearly fell as he backed away from them and then quickly got behind his desk once again. He didn’t sit down, deciding flight may be in order.
“Well, let’s go see the General, then,” Ryan suggested.
“Let’s go,” Tommy replied, walking toward the door.
“I’m glad you ain’t mad at me,” Ryan observed as they pushed through the door.
Tommy just grunted.
* * * * *
Cramer didn’t feel bad about knocking the young Captain in the head. He shouldn’t have turned his back on someone he didn’t know well enough to trust was the way Cramer saw it. Oh, well, live and learn, was another one of Cramer’s mottos. In this business, one learned fast or
died. Cramer was still alive. He couldn’t say as much for the innocent, patriotic young captain. As soon as some Iraqi patrol came along and found him they’d kill him fast enough.
Cramer put the truck in gear and let the clutch slowly out until he was moving in first gear. He followed the other trucks which were almost out of sight ahead. In his side mirror he saw the Captain lying in the sand. He wasn’t moving at all.
Maybe I hit him too hard, he thought, continuing to watch in the side mirror as the fallen man quickly was lost in the swirling dust. Cramer looked away to shift gears and when he looked back the Captain was lost in the distance and dust. Oh well. No loss. Captains are expendable.
For hundreds of billions of dollars everyone was expendable. Including generals and lowly CIA agents, such as himself.
The truck gathered speed as he took it up through the gears. His only safety was speed and distance. And the Pakistani border two-hundred miles away. He planned to be across it by night fall. After dark, they would be vulnerable. Their headlights would be visible for miles on the open flat desert. They had to make it through the mountains during daylight hours. Even the mountains offered little, if any, protection. If anything, they were more dangerous. There was no place to turn around or hide. The road was too winding to outrun even the slowest vehicle on the road.
So their timing had to be perfect and their luck had to hold. So far their luck had been perfect. The young captain had been perfect for the job and one deadly sonofabitch!
Maybe I should have just killed him, Cramer thought too late. No, the desert will, if the rags don’t. That’s guaranteed!
If Cramer would have known how wrong he was, he may have turned the truck around right then and there and gone back to make sure LeSade was, in fact, dead. But, he had no way of knowing that at that precise moment, several dozen Iraqi soldiers in pickup trucks were pulling up and surrounding the unconscious Captain. So, Cramer drove on in ignorant bliss of the biggest mistake of his forty year life.
* * * * *
General Hawk was a lot surprised and perhaps a little frightened when his orderly knocked on his door and announced that Captain LeSade would like to see him about his completed mission and another matter of great importance.
Damn it! Hawk thought. Cramer was supposed to ensure the captain did not make it back from the mission! Deny! Deny! Deny! That’s all he could do at this point.