Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (Escaping the Dead) (4 page)

Henry drove the truck
deeper into the border post compound.  Eventually he found a spot back in
some shipping containers.  He found a horseshoe stack of containers and
backed the MRAP and trailer in nicely to where they couldn’t be snuck up on
from behind, but they still had a nice view in the front.  It wasn’t a
perfect place to defend against an armed enemy, but it made good tactics
against the crazies they were facing.

Once the engine was
shut down they listened intently for sounds that they had been discovered, but
it was quiet.  Now that they were in the city they did hear the occasional
scream and some sporadic gunfire in the distance, but for the most part the
compound appeared to be secured.  Brad setup a watch schedule and he told
his guys to try and get some rest.  It was mid-day and the sun was high in
the sky.

The inside of the MRAP
heated up quickly with the engine and cooling systems shut down.  Brad knew the
conditions were not ideal.  He allowed the men to dismount from the truck
and try to cool off in the shade under the vehicle, however, the heat still
rolled off the pavement and radiated from the vehicle and shipping
containers.  Brad climbed to the top of the truck and used his binoculars
to try and scout the area.  He had a good open view of the compound, and
could see the warehouse buildings off in the distance.  Most of the fence
still looked to be in place, and the warehouse doors were all closed and
secure.

Brad decided that he
needed to take a small foot patrol to find a better hide; they couldn’t sit
here in the hundred degree heat and cook.  He told Cole and Eric to suit
up and be ready to move in 15 minutes, leaving Méndez in charge of the
vehicle.  They packed their gear and put on their knee and elbow
pads.  Because they were no longer facing a traditional enemy it was
decided to drop the heavy bullet stopping ceramic plates from their vests, and
to also close up the neck and shoulder protectors on their body armor. 
Designed to protect soldiers from shrapnel and road side bombs, they hoped the
Kevlar fabric would now prove useful against the rabid mobs they had been faced
with.

Cole crept out around
the container and led the way on point.  He walked slowly and stuck close to
the edge of the containers.  Cole stopped often to listen and to look at
far off objects through his rifles advanced optics.  The enemy didn’t
appear to be particularly cunning but they had managed to sneak up on them more
than once, and they didn’t want that to happen without the safety of the
MRAP.  Quickly, yet silently, the patrol moved until they were within a football
field’s distance from the first warehouse.  Cole put his fist in the air
and waved them down to the ground.  Brad crawled forward and used his
binos to look at the building. 

It was made entirely of
cinderblock, and appeared to be new; probably part of the International
Security Force reconstruction efforts.  The building had a large overhead
door in its center and a smaller door to its right.  A row of windows
lined the very top of the building; probably for venting and to let in daylight. 
They watched and waited for a good twenty minutes to make sure they were alone
before they got to their feet.  One at a time they bounded across the
distance and stacked up on the warehouse door.  Brad reached across and
tried the handle, it turned easily in his hand and he was relieved to find the
door unlocked.  He held up three fingers and dropped them one at a time.
He swiftly and professionally entered the room to clear everything within their
view. 

A large empty bay with
rows of shelving filled the back wall.  To the right, he found a block of
offices and a set of stairs that led to a loft of more office space above
them.  They took their time in clearing the row of offices one by one, and
then went up the flight of stairs to confirm the building was empty.  At
the top of the stairs Brad signaled for them to stop and put a finger over his
lips.  He pointed to a desk where he could see a foot sticking from behind
a half wall of a cubicle.  Brad silently un-holstered his M9 pistol and
slowly cut the corner; allowing him to slowly see what was on the other side
without making himself a target.

He peeked into the
cubicle and saw a man sitting face down on his desk, the back of his head had a
large exit hole and his brains were still running down the back wall of his
cube. 

“Well, looks like
someone decided to check out early,” Brad whispered.

The man still clutched
an S&W sigma pistol.  Brad grabbed it and put it in his pack. 
 Now that the building was clear he called the MRAP on his headset and
informed Méndez that the warehouse was safe, and they would be returning. 
He told them to be ready to move when they got there.  Cole and Eric tried
the large overhead door and found it operational even though the power was out,
the manual chain system still seemed to work fine.

Quietly they guided the
truck back to the warehouse and pulled it and the trailer through the large
overhead door.  Once the vehicle was parked and the engine killed, they
started setting up a defensive perimeter.  The warehouse only had the two entrances,
the small entry door and the large overhead.  Brad placed a metal clip on
the chain and pulley system of the door to prevent anyone from being able to
raise it.  The bolt lock on the entry door didn’t appear to work, so they
pulled it tight and secured it with some rope and zip ties, fastening it as
tightly as they could.  It wouldn’t keep a determined individual out, but
it would give them warning if anyone tried to get in. 

Brad asked the men to
unload and get a good inventory of everything in the trailer and onboard the
vehicle.  Brad and Méndez went into the office spaces and tried to search
for anything to give them a means of working communication.  The phones
were dead, and the power was out so all of the computers were also offline. 
Méndez came back around the corner holding a cell phone he had pulled from the
man’s pocket in the upstairs cubicle.  The phone had full bars, but every
number he dialed gave a busy signal.  They had tried the radios in the
MRAP several times and had no response, so it appeared they were alone and
without any comms. 

Méndez spotted a ladder
well that went up to the roof.  After climbing it, they saw they had an immense
view of the entire compound and some of the city (most of which was burning).
They could see a mass of the crazies moving down a city street far to the east.
There wasn’t much to see across the river, the bridge was congested and
blocked.  It looked like the Uzbeks may have attempted to destroy the bridge;
there was a large hole in the concrete on the Uzbek side.  There wasn’t
much to look at on the far side of the river and no movement could be
detected.  They searched the horizon and no aircraft could be seen, and no
streaking of smoke that usually crisscrossed the sky. 

It was decided that the
roof would make the best watch station so they moved one of the machine guns
and a sniper rifle up to the top.  The roof was lined by a three foot wall
that made staying in cover easy.  They chose a spot in a corner facing the gate
to place the machine gun and sniper rifle.  Brad put Henry and Eric on the
first watch and instructed Méndez and Cole to start doing maintenance on the
MRAP and the rest of the equipment.  He didn’t know how long they would
have to hide in their new home.  He wanted to make sure everything worked
if they had to leave in a hurry.

They moved the body of
the man in the cubicle downstairs and laid him under a tarp in a far corner of
the warehouse.  The men laid out their gear and bed rolls in the loft. 
There was a small bathroom in the downstairs offices and the water was still
running, so they filled every container they could find. 

They took advantage of
the running water to take much needed sponge baths.  It was hard to
remember how long they had been on the move.  The two nights of running
and hiding in the desert had taken a toll on them.  Brad thought it would
be best to just let the men rest for the remainder of the day.  They locked up
tight and settled in.

Brad was sitting on the
roof in the small snipers position they had put together.  As night came, the
quiet of the city ceased.  Whatever was roaming the streets seemed to get
more animated after sunset.  Brad wondered if the things worked better in
the cooler night air.  Whatever it was they were definitely moving and making
a racket. 

Through the night
vision scope he could see far into the city, and he watched small engagements
between local residents and the crazed mobs.  He saw a small car speeding
through the streets.  It would stop and pick people up then drive off
again.  Occasionally, the car would skid to a stop and men with AK47s
would jump out and spray sporadic fire at the mobs before they would jump back
into the car and speed off again.  ‘At least someone is fighting them’ Brad
thought to himself. 

He scanned the
perimeter of the compound and saw the pedestrian gate where the crazies they
had engaged earlier had come through, as well as the railroad entrance that
they drove the MRAP through.  He cursed himself for not securing those
gates.  It would have to be a priority tomorrow.  There were hundreds
of shipping containers stacked around the customs yard.  ‘Hopefully, they
are filled with food and water, but not likely,’ he chuckled to himself. 
Tomorrow they would find out.

A flare to the north of
the city got his attention, and apparently the attention of the crazies as
well.  He could see them all over the city lift their heads to the sky and run
towards the light. “Note to self, don’t use flares,” Brad said under his
breath.

He strained his eyes
through the scope to try and see who launched the flare, but he couldn’t make
out the distant figures.  Suddenly, he heard the report of heavy weapons,
M240B and M249 light machine guns, the telltale sound of M4s, and the crack of
M67 frag grenades.

Eric looked up from the
machine gun he had been manning on the corner of the building “Hey! It’s a
rescue; those are our guys out there!” 

Brad put down the rifle
and picked up the more powerful binoculars, even though they didn’t have the
night vision of the scope, he didn’t need it with the illumination of the
battle. 

Brad could see what was
happening and it wasn’t rescue forces.  “I think I found SFC Turner,” he
said.

The missing men from
the ambush were putting up a fight in a walled in villa on the south edge of
the city.  They were putting out an impressive wall of fire, but
unfortunately every crazy in the city within earshot was stopping in its tracks
and heading towards the commotion.  “Shit, they need to get out of there! 
They can’t hold off that many,” Brad said.

“Let’s take the MRAP,
we can get them out,” yelled Eric.

“There is no way, we
would never break through that mob, and even if we did we wouldn’t be able to
open the doors, or be able to man our turret.  This is fucked,” Brad
answered.

The mob crashed against
the large gate of the walled villa, the men fired down at them from elevated
positions, tossing grenades into the crowd.  The mobs would break, and
then rebound with more force than before.  The wall began to give and Brad
watched the soldiers fall back to the house, then reappear on the roof.  He saw
the flash of a claymore explode in the courtyard. When he looked back only two
soldiers remained on the roof.  He observed the rest sneak out of the back
corner of the building and over a wall.  The men on the roof dropped smoke
and frag grenades into the crowd.  Brad lost sight of them in the smoke
and the gunfire ceased.  All he heard was the distant frenzy of the
mob. 

“Man, I hope they got
out,” Eric muttered.

Brad scanned all around
the building but he could find no evidence of the soldiers.  The mob had
taken the villa and they were now on the roof in a frenzy.  They were
attacking each other and screaming.  It was hours before they calmed down
and faded back into the city streets.

The screaming and
occasional gunfire continued through the night and went silent just before
dawn.  Brad didn’t sleep at all and he was sure his men didn’t get much
rest either. 

At first light, he sent
Eric and Cole out to secure the gates while Henry and Méndez provided cover
from the small nest on the roof.  Brad went down to the offices and
started to rummage through the desks.   Most of the paperwork wasn’t
in English and he couldn’t make shit out of the gibberish on the page. 
But finally he found a clip board with what he was looking for—a manifest from
the rail companies.  He could make sense of some of the brand names and
the lot numbers.  He hoped it would help them in breaking down some of the
shipping containers.  He wrote down a few numbers on his notepad that
looked like they belonged to produce or beverage companies.

Armed with a pair of
bolt cutters and two duffel bags, he headed out of the safety of the warehouse
with Cole providing rear security.  They moved to the stack of shipping
containers; trying to decipher the numbering system from his notes to what they
were seeing on the ground. 

“Well it doesn’t look
like they made this easy for us, nothing is in order,” Brad whispered to
Cole. 

They decided to give up
on the scavenger hunt and just start opening containers.  Brad provided
security while Cole cut the locks and seals on one of the large doors, and he
helped him swing it open. 

The inside was filled
with boxes of nails and bolts; all types of construction fasteners. 

“Dammit!  Strike one I guess,”
Cole mumbled.

They moved on, and
tried another four containers before they opened one filled completely with
cases of energy drinks. “Shit, looks like we won’t be dying tired,” Brad joked
and they both laughed.  They dumped two cases of the drinks into their
duffle bag and marked the location on a map Brad was drawing.

The last container in
the row they found filled with canned goods, they couldn’t read the labels to
know what it was, but at least it was food.  They marked the location, filled
both bags, and headed back to the ware house.

Back at their hideout,
Méndez used his utility knife to cut open one of the cans of food.  They
found a small metal pot in one of the back offices and built a small fire made
with pieces of broken furniture.  He poured the contents of the can out
and it plopped into the pot.  “Fuck Bro, that stinks.  Man, you sure
this ain’t dog food??” Méndez said.

“I don’t think so
bro.  It has some goofy ass kid’s face on the can.  If it was dog
food it would show a dog,” answered Cole.

“Well damn man this
shit is awful.  No wonder Afghans are always pissed off if they be eating
on this slop.  Whatever happened to chunky soup?  How do you fuck up soup?
Sarge, you sure we can’t just eat the MRE’s?” Eric griped.

“No, we need to save them,
and I want to keep the light stuff loaded in the packs and on the truck in case
we need to bug out.  This is what we got so dump in a couple more cans and
bon appetite!” answered Brad.

They ate in silence. 
After a minute Méndez reached down to open another can; everyone looked up at
him.  “You know once you get over the shit taste, it really ain’t so bad,”
Méndez chuckled.  All the men laughed together.

“I bet that stuff is
going to give you the shits too,” Eric blurted out. 

“So what’s the plan anyhow
Sergeant?” Henry asked suddenly, killing the jovial mood. 

“Well for now I’m
thinking rest, fortify and build up our resources.   After that I am
pretty wide open to suggestions,” Brad answered back.  “I mean, we are far
away from our area of operations; our command is gone; and our home base is
destroyed.  The only semblance that anyone may know we’re even here is
that UAV we saw two days ago.  And they might not even know who we are.”

“Do you think SFC
Turner got out last night?” Eric asked.

“I don’t know buddy but
if anyone could it was him.  Remember they escaped the ambush and they
made it this far.  Plus they chose to go to the city and not lock up tight
in this warehouse,” said Brad.  “They have the confidence and training to
make it, so I’m not giving up on them yet.  I have patrolled this way
before and there really isn’t shit passed Hairatan.  Beyond the city the
road fizzles out. There are some villages and farms going out along the river
but there is no bridge.  Eventually we will have to make a choice; if we
want to try and cross the bridge into Uzbekistan on foot or head back into
Afghanistan.  We could try for Mazari Sharif, it’s about a half days
patrol to the south, but after seeing this place, I got a bad feeling about
that also,” Brad finished.

“My vote is stay put
for a few days and see if communications come back up,” Méndez said.  They
all came to an agreement to wait things out for a while. Cole and Eric moved
back up the ladder to the roof to start the evening watch.

 Brad had settled
into his bedroll up on the loft of the warehouse.  ‘Damn!’ he thought, ‘if I
knew we weren’t going back to base that night I would have brought my
pillow.’  He smiled to himself and placed the S&W pistol he found
earlier by his side.

Once he stopped moving,
exhaustion took over and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.  He felt the
hand grab and shake his foot.  Brad jumped up grabbing the pistol and
pointed it into the shocked face of Cole.  “Oh shit, my bad Sergeant”
uttered Cole. “I shouldn’t have been so quiet”. 

Brad lowered the pistol
and relaxed, “What is it Cole?” 

“Sergeant, you need to
get up top.  Something you need to see,” Cole answered.

Brad sent Cole ahead
and he stopped to put on his boots and his vest.  He looked at his watch,
‘Damn, it’s only been two hours,’ he thought.  He climbed the ladder and
settled into the nest with Eric and Cole.  “What do we got fellas?” he
whispered. 

“Over there Sergeant,
just past the fence in that little building,” Cole said pointing with his
finger.  Brad picked up the binos and looked down towards the building.
 

“I don’t see anything
guys,” he said.

“Just wait Sergeant. 
There it is,” Eric said pointing.  Three flickers of a red light followed
by three long flashes and three more flickers.

“Oh shit guys, that is
Morse code, someone is signaling.  But who are they talking to?” Brad
whispered.

“It’s got to be us
Sergeant.  We are the only ones up here,” Eric replied.

“Go wake up Henry, he’s
good with this nerdy shit, and grab the red lens flashlight off my bag,” Brad
said back to Eric.

Moments later Henry was
crouched in the snipers nest with the flash light and a pen and paper.  After
checking his work, he finally spoke. “They said ‘
we are two US
’, and
they want to come into the compound”.

“Well ask them who they
are,” snapped Brad. 

After another set of
exchanges Henry spoke again, “They just say, ‘
we are two US, request
permission to enter your perimeter
’.”

“What do you think
guys?” Brad asked. 

The men looked puzzled
that Brad was asking for advice, it wasn’t typically his way. “Come on guys! 
Cut me a break, this isn’t exactly a military op any more.  I’m open to
suggestions.”

“I say let them in
Sergeant.  Why would they tell us they are coming if they were up to no good?”
Cole said.

Brad smiled, “You make
a good point Cole.  Henry, tell them to come in but stay in our line of site.”

They watched as the two
men broke cover of the building and walked in a slow crouch to the fence. 
Brad thought they would circle around to the perimeter gate.  But without
making a noise they quickly cut through to the inside, turned around, repaired
the fence and disappeared into the shadows.  Before they could wonder
where the pair went, they heard a tapping at the downstairs door.

Brad looked over the
roof wall and saw the two dark figures huddled at the door.  He turned,
and he with Cole, rushed down the ladder; waking up Méndez.  With his
pistol in his hand, he undid the bindings on the door and let it slowly open
outward.  The two men hurried inside and closed the door behind
them.  The man in front dropped the dark hood he had been wearing, gave a
toothy bearded grin, and extended his hand to Brad. 

“US Navy SEALS, we’re
here to get you out,” he laughed.  Brad didn’t return the handshake and
instead just stared at the man.  “Why so smug Sergeant?  Just fucking with
you.  We have been watching you guys the better part of two days, it’s good to
be inside with you.   It’s not a lot of fun out there in the city,”
the man said.

“So who are you
guys?  Where did you come from?” Brad asked.

“Damn kid, where are
your manners? Getting all personal and not even offering a guest a beverage,”
the man replied.

“Shit, my fault,” said
Cole laughing and holding up a couple cans of energy drink.

They all chuckled and
moved towards the interior of the warehouse.  Méndez secured the door and
followed them inside.  Brad looked the men over; they were solid but not
large.  Both had overgrown beards and they wore an arrangement of
camouflage.  Instead of issue boots, they were wearing civilian style hiking
shoes.