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The Tripoli Mission
The story begins early evening on 22 March 1987 with Air Rescue Special Forces Commando Jimmy West is on board a Gulfstream Jet that is airborne over the City of Tripoli, Libya. He has been sent to rescue an Egyptian envoy’s wife and two daughters and he is awaiting last minute instructions to skydive into the city.
“Jimmy!”
“Get ready to go into the chamber, we are approaching the target area,” announces the pilot over the airplane’s intercom system.
Jimmy keys the intercom mike.
“Roger!”
I sat back into my seat at the rear of the Gulfstream Jet, waiting for instructions to enter the chamber to skydive into Tripoli. I couldn’t help, but think about the mission I was about to going on. I was sitting there wondering what was going through the minds of the mother and two daughters being held by the secret intelligence agency. The mother had to be scared shitless thinking about all the things the guards might do to them, and especially her daughters, during their captivity. As it’s three women, and from what I was told, very pretty women, sex will definitely be on the guards’ minds.
My involvement in this mission started yesterday, when I received a fax from Frank titled “The Tripoli Mission.” The fax detailed a Libyan News Flash with the background data, about what had transpired since the disappearance of the envoy’s wife and two daughters, which was sent to me, to bring me up to speed, before my mission briefing by Air Rescue.
News Flash: Libya
20 March 1987: News reports say that American intelligence agencies have not detected any new resumption of construction at a suspected chemical weapons plant in Libya, a facility the United States threatened to destroy with a nuclear strike if necessary. The American Arms Control and Disarmament Agency Director says U.S. intelligence agencies, which primarily rely on satellite reconnaissance and close scrutiny of shipping records for items that might contribute to a chemical arms program, have found nothing indicating renewed activity at the site. The Director tells reporters, "Our latest reports are that construction has halted at that plant. An Egyptian envoy who inspected the Libyan chemical site last year, has said he found no evidence to refute Libyan claims they were building a fertilizer factory.
Background data
The Egyptian envoy has reported to the American Committee on Arms Control and Disarmament that an inspection he made at a Libyan chemical site found no evidence to refute Libya claims that it was fertilizer plant. But, American intelligence agencies are under the assumption that the plant is suspected to be related to Libyan’s nuclear program and it is a place where Libya is making weapons of mass destruction.
What has not been reported by the Egyptian Government is the envoy’s wife and two daughters have been kidnapped on their way to a party at the Egyptian Embassy in Tripoli, Libya, and are being held at a secret location by a secret intelligence agency so that the envoy will not talk about what he really saw at the Libyan plant. The Egyptian envoy has been told that his family will never be seen again if he talks to the Americans.
The Egyptian Government has secretly put up two million dollars for Air Rescue to find the envoy’s family and get them out of Libya alive, without being detected.
The telephone calls, made by the envoy’s wife, were traced to a building on Al Mada Street, just a few blocks from Green Square in Tripoli, known in the past as a secret hideaway location utilized by an intelligence agency to make troublesome people disappear.
As Jimmy reflects over the fax he received, he is interrupted again by the pilot speaking over the intercom.
“Jimmy!” “Enter the chamber and depressurize.”
Jimmy keys the intercom mike.
“Roger!”
Jimmy enters the chamber and closes the door. He sits down into position at the back door of the tail section of the airplane to get ready to bail out.
Jimmy keys the intercom mike.
“Depressurizing!”
“Roger,” replies the pilot.
Jimmy keys the mike again.
“I am opening the back door.”
“Good luck Jimmy,” replied the pilot over the airplane’s intercom system.
Jimmy keys the mike, “the back door is open and I am in position to jump.”
“Get ready Jimmy,” replies the pilot.
“On my mark!”
Pause!
“Get ready!”
“1...2...3...Go.”
I slid out of the back of the Gulfstream Jet into the darkness and started my free fall to earth over Tripoli, Libya. As soon as I left the plane, I rolled over onto my belly to point my face earth bound so I could see where I was going and I extended my arms and legs out to give myself balance. I raised my head-up and for a second, my eyes caught a glimpse of the back of the airplane as it flew off into the night.
Again I turned my head downward to look down upon the illuminated City of Tripoli below me. I could feel the warm Mediterranean air going past my face and body as I fell towards earth at a speed of around 120 miles per hour. I could see the lights of the City of Tripoli below me, the harbor, the illuminated castle, and I could see the street lights reflecting on the black looking water along the shoreline. Just a little east of the Harbor Castle, I could pick out in the blackness of a vacant lot along the shoreline, a place where I could land undetected. I repositioned my arms and legs to give me a little air resistance so that I could glide like a plane and maneuvered myself towards the open secluded lot along the eastern shoreline of the harbor.
At 2000 feet, I deployed my black parachute and began maneuvering the guide strings to pitch and yaw the parachute to control a soft landing as I sped towards the landing site. I hit the soft sandy ground of the vacant lot and quickly laid down on the ground for a few minutes watching for anyone who may have seen me land. It was early evening and it had just gotten dark. I could see that people were out walking along the shore, but no one was about in the isolated area where I landed.
As I lay quietly on the ground, thoughts of being captured in a foreign country were racing through my head. At least, on this trip, I wasn’t really concerned about the dangers of being shot-at on this mission as Libya is a pretty friendly country, not like some of the shoot-them-up-places that I have been to on previous missions. This was a covert, secret mission. I have been instructed in my briefing that it was off limits on this mission to shoot at anybody who gets near me. I could obviously protect myself if needed, but that was it. In fact, on this trip, I was not even carrying my normal AK-47 assault rifle and box of hand grenades. I was limited to a couple of 9mm’s with silencers, a couple of pocket guns and my blow gun, a few ninja throwing pieces and my 24 inch straight blade sword with case. Basically, I was directed to use my wits, my ingenuity and resourcefulness, and if at all possible, I was to disable the guards in such a fashion as to bring embarrassment upon the government. Well, you know how that goes in a covert operation, if you succeed, the mission never happened and most likely these intelligence people will be taking a long vacation, that is, if they are ever found again on this planet.
I continued to lay on the ground for several minutes to watch and listen for human movement and seeing no one or having no one run to my aid. I gathered up my parachute into my arms and walked over to a group of palm trees about 30 feet away from where I had landed. The palm trees gave me plenty of good cover. I paused amongst the hanging branches of the palm trees for a few minutes and had a good look around the area. I had landed in a pretty secluded spot, an isolated area along the eastern end of the harbor near to Al Fat’h Street. From my vantage point to the right, westward of my location, I could see the distant harbor lights and one of my marker target locations - The Al Kabir Hotel, which appears to be only about a 10 minute walk away from my current location. To my left, I could look eastward towards some office buildings along a main street with a little side street or a kind of alley with a white looking building at the other
end of it. What I was looking for was a building that may have a trash can or dumpster behind it where I could discard my parachute and change clothes. It was pretty dark along the street except for a few street lights. No one was around, so I ran across the street and down the alley along beside the white building. I stopped behind the building and sure enough, there was a dumpster behind the building. I looked all around and no one seemed to be watching me from any windows in the buildings lining the alley, so I opened the lid and threw in my parachute and harness into the dumper to get rid of them and closed the lid.
I continued to look all around for anyone who might be watching me from one of the many windows in the surrounding buildings. As I looked around, I also listened for human movement and sounds, but it was all quiet. So, I put my travel bag down on top of the dumpster lid and took off my black jumpsuit, folded it up and put it in my bag. This left me wearing normal Libyan street clothes, composed of a black pair of pants and black tee shirt. I took out of my bag, a dark long sleeved shirt and put it on, letting it hang unbuttoned like most Libyan men do. I wanted to look like the locals and not bring attention to myself. I searched around in my bag and found my Libyan stamped passport and stuck it in my shirt pocket. I was now ready to get started finding the location of where the envoy’s wife and daughters were being held in protective custody. Well, that’s what the secret intelligence agency was calling it, but we knew it was for a different reason.
I spent about 15 minutes behind the white building getting ready, before I again walked up the alley and crossed over the street to the open lot. It took me about a minute or so to walk the 100 to 150 feet across the open lot to get to the sidewalk adjacent to the street that trailed around the harbor. At the sidewalk, I started walking westward on the street light illuminated sidewalk, that was lined with a sandstone balustrade which separated the sidewalk from the black looking waters of the harbor. As I walked towards the main harbor street of Al Fat’h and one of my target locations - The Al Kabir Hotel, I couldn’t help but have very awkward feelings. Here I am walking along the harbor, at night, where I am more accustomed to sneaking around after landing in places like Tripoli. But here I am walking on a sidewalk like a normal person. No one is paying any attention to me and in most cases; all the people who have passed me were couples who were more interested in themselves and each other than me. At least on this mission, there shouldn’t be anyone shooting at me which makes me pretty happy.
It was a pleasant walk along the harbor and it only took me about 10 minutes to reach the crosswalk that was across the street from the Al Kabir Hotel. I crossed over Al Fat’s Street at the pedestrian walkway and sat down on a park bench in front of the hotel to get my bearings and enjoy the illuminated sights of Tripoli.
I made myself comfortable on the bench and got out my map like any other normal tourist would do and studied the building locations of where I was to go in relation to my map. I could see down the street towards the lit-up Harbor Castle and Green Square. I could also see the illuminated Medina Gadima entrance to the old city, just off the Green Square. I had been told to go west on Omar Mukhtar Street for about one block then I would see another side street called Al Mada Street that was more like an alley street. I was told to go along the alley street for about a half a block. There on the right would be a brownish sandstone colored building with five arched terraced balconies decorating the top of the building. The structure would be surrounded by brownish colored iron gates atop a two foot high stone wall. This was the location of where the telephone calls were traced