Chasing Tomorrow Read online

  “The forest area will give us some cover at least until we reach the tree line,” Juan said. “That’s something in our favor.”

  “For our British friends who just arrived,” Zach interjected, “you need to know we’ve determined the captors are armed with heavy machine guns, AK-47’s, and RPG’s. You blow the element of surprise, and you’re going to have a hell of a fire-fight on your hands and probably some dead hostages before we can reach them.”

  Rossi nodded. “Bugger-that. Not on my watch. Not gonna happen.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” Masoud said, a slight smile on his face. “Timing is going to be critical. If we launch a rescue mission too early, we risk the lives of all the hostages. On the other hand, if we leave too late, the women could disappear, and who knows if we ever find them again. Sorry, Ziryan…everyone. I know you don’t want to hear that, but I’m just stating the obvious.”

  Zach grimaced and shook his head. “That can’t happen. It just can’t. It’s not going to happen.”

  Everyone nodded and a low rumble of agreement could be heard around the room.

  “How soon do we leave?” Rossi asked.

  Masoud snapped off the computer. “We have a couple things to work out. Right now we’re searching by air and with informants on the ground for good helicopter landing sites. That’s mission critical. Until we can find those, we’re in a holding pattern. Also, I’m told we have some weather moving in the next twenty-four hours. We’ll go when both of these two situations are resolved.”

  “The sooner the better,” Zach mumbled under his breath.

  “All in good time,” Tony said, grabbing his coffee cup and napkin to throw in the trash. “Patience. Won’t be long now.”

  As Zach was leaving the room, Lauren Mathews, CIA chief-of-station, pulled him aside. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  Zach paused. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “Let’s walk and talk, shall we?” They moved toward the exit. Once outside, Mathews said, “I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you to know that you’re all alone in this.”

  “No surprise. That’s how we normally work.”

  “The president is not going to green-light this mission even though it’s an American citizen you’re rescuing. Usually this would be a sanctioned mission, but it’s an election year and the prez doesn’t want to have to deal with the optics of a failed mission should things go wrong.”

  Zach shook his head in disgust. Every man on this mission was a “black” operative. They existed outside military protocol and engaged in operations at the highest level of classification. Many of his ops had even been outside the boundaries of international law. He didn’t need the president’s okay.

  “Figures,” Zach said. “But when we succeed, I don’t want to see his ass on TV taking credit for our good work, and you can tell him I said so.”

  Lauren laughed. “That’s what I thought, so go get ‘em, cowboy.”

  When Lauren left, Zach leaned down to tie up his running shoes. Time to run off some of this excess energy or anxiety, he couldn’t tell which he had more of. He stood and looked off in the direction of the Cheekha Dar Mountains. His heart ached thinking about what Arianna must be going through. He could tell by the video today, she was either sick or injured. As a trained Navy SEAL, he wasn’t supposed to get emotionally involved in the mission, but a riot of emotions coursed through his body. For the same reason doctors aren’t supposed to operate on their own family members, maybe he should pull himself off the op. But personally not coming to Arianna’s rescue was unthinkable to him. He knew when it was go time, all this training would kick in, and he would be leading the charge.

  He started running around the perimeter of the compound. All this downtime had his nerves on edge like a pre-dawn raid. He needed to keep moving. Keep his nerves in check while he waited for the conditions to be right to commence the rescue.

  He ran until he was exhausted. Stopping, he put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, paused a moment, then slowly walked back to the command center. With one last look toward the mountains, he whispered, “Hold on, babe. I’m coming.”

  CHEEKHA DAR MOUNTAINS, IRAQ

  “NO!” AMIRA screamed. “No. No. This will not work.” She and another guard were locked in a heated battle regarding the hostages.

  “It’s a matter of math,” the male guard said. “The American, if they pay for her, will only bring four million dollars. All the British women will bring twenty million. So we kill the American to scare the British into paying for the other four hostages.”

  Amira frowned. “I disagree. We can make money on both. If the Americans won’t pay for the girl, then we sell her to the ISIS fighters. This can raise a lot of money. And after they’re finished with her, we can still try to ransom her back to the Americans.”

  The guard looked skeptical.

  “Look. I don’t think you understand,” Amira continued. “You do not want to bring the wrath of the American government down on us. If you kill this girl, you will awaken a sleeping giant. I say we kill one of the British aid workers, and the Brits will pay quickly for the other three.”

  The guard thought about it. “We have to do something to get their attention. These people are stalling…maybe planning a rescue. I think they have no intention of paying. We need to send a message.”

  “Yes, I agree,” Amira said, picking up her phone. “but this is not for us to decide. We need to see what the village elders want to do. We will do what they say.”

  “WAKE UP, American slut,” someone said and poked Arianna in the ribs.

  She woke and cried out in pain, tears pooling in her eyes. Glynis awoke too. “What’s happening?” she asked.

  Arianna shook her head, unsure about what was going on. Amira stood before her and told her to get up.

  Glynis helped Arianna to her feet.

  “Come with me,” Amira ordered.

  Glynis started to go with Arianna.

  “Not you.” Amira shoved Glynis back into the wall.

  “Where are you taking me?” Arianna asked. “I’m too injured to travel.”

  “But travel you will. Where you’re going there will be plenty of time for rest…maybe eternal rest,” she chuckled. “Now, move on.”

  IRBIL, IRAQ: OGA STATION

  Outside the winds howled, and sand pelted the side of the tin building, nearly drowning out all other sound. The Sharqi winds had invaded Northern Iraq, bringing a dust storm and wind gusts up to sixty-miles-per-hour. These seasonal winds had been known to last for several days in a row. All air assets had been grounded. The rescue put on hold.

  In their base sleeping quarters, Juan and Rossi were locked in a hot game of Grand Theft Auto on Xbox. Tony was playing poker with three SAS operators, while Zach sat quietly by himself, reviewing images of the terrain in and around the cave area.

  “Booya!” Rossi yelled and jumped out of his chair. “Sorry, mate. Looks like the Brits just beat the pants off the Yanks.”

  “Fuck!” Juan said, throwing his controller down. “I want a rematch. Hold on while I grab another beer and hit the head. This cannot stand. You’re going down,” he said, pointing at Rossi.

  Juan made a pit stop, and then retrieved a Heineken out of the fridge. On the way back to his seat, he passed Zach. “It’s all good, buddy,” he said, looking down at images captured by the Predator drone on Zach’s computer. “You’ve got the whole route memorized, so come on. Give it a rest. I know. It’s bad. We lost our eyes on the target because of this storm, but it is what it is, so grab a beer and relax.”

  Zach glanced up at Juan. “They could move the hostages, and we’d never know it. We’re totally in the dark.”

  “Well, not totally in the dark,” Tony remarked from over at the poker table. He threw down his hand, showing a straight. “Ah, ha!” he said, slapping the table. “Beat that, fellas, if you can.” All the players groaned and folded. Tony picked up his winnings, walked over to where Zach sa
t, and plopped down on the nearby sofa. “There’s a drone up there with a thermographic camera on board. It can loiter overhead for fourteen hours before returning to base. Thermal imaging is gonna tell us if anyone moves from that location. We’re not totally in the dark, so relax. We got this.”

  Zach closed the computer. He looked at Tony and frowned. “The heat signature tells us someone is moving…just not who it is. Could be hostages. Could be bad guys. No way to tell, dumbshit.” Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Zach regretted his insulting remark. “Ah, hey, sorry, Tony,” he quickly added. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m feeling a bit edgy lately. Of course, you’re right. We’ll see any movement.”

  Tony held up his hand. “No harm. No foul. Forget it.”

  Rossi came over, sat down, and handed Zach a beer. “Drink up, old man. I understand why you’re so uptight. Your girl’s up there. Can’t blame you. Bloody frustrating, this storm thing. These drones can read a license plate from two miles away, but now, we can’t see shit. Bugger that for sure. But we’re ready. As soon as the storm blows over, we’re off, so keep the faith, mate.”

  He tossed his beer bottle in the trash and got up to leave. “I’m bloody knackered, and need to turn in. That rematch on Xbox is going to have to wait,” he yelled back at Juan as he was leaving the room. “Ziryan. Everyone. Wake me when this storm blows over.”

  Zach nodded and watched as the rest of the SAS operators called it a night, too. This left him, Tony, and Juan sitting there by themselves. No one spoke. The kidnapping weighed heavily on everyone’s mind, and being held up by the storm only exacerbated the problem.

  Guys never talked about wives or girlfriends back home when they were deployed, but these men had been together so long, they could read each other’s thoughts. Juan missed Lorena, and Tony longed to see his wife, Lisa. This was a given, but Tony and Juan’s loved ones were safe at home unlike Arianna. Zach, ever the consummate soldier, never whined, never cracked. Was resolute in his determination to rescue Arianna. He’d soldiered on, head down, meticulously putting this rescue plan together, and though he tried to keep it inside, it was obvious, he was hurting.

  They knew. His best buddies knew.

  Tony and Juan said good night and headed to bed. Once out of earshot of Zach, Tony whispered, “I sure hope this storm passes quickly. Zach needs to get moving and get in the game or he’s going to fall apart.”

  “Yeah,” Juan replied with a heavy sigh. “Never seen him like this. He’s wound up tight as a drum. This sitting around worrying is killing him. If we don’t commence a rescue attempt soon, he’s definitely going to lose it.”

  THE NEXT morning, strong winds and dust were still flying around. Satellite images indicated they were on the backside of the Sharqi wind storm, but it would still be a few hours before everything settled down.

  “Cent com says the storm’s diminished, but helicopters still can’t safely fly in this crap,” Tony said, “so the wait continues.”

  The group was sitting at lunch, when an officer approached Zach and asked him to come to the command center. Zach dropped his fork and immediately stood to leave.

  “What’s up?” Tony asked.

  Zach shrugged his shoulders, shook his head, and followed the officer. Tony and Juan threw their napkins down and joined him. In the command center, Commander Haji signaled them forward. He handed Zach a headset and invited him to listen.

  Zach waved him off. “Can you put it on speaker phone so we can all listen?”

  The Commander nodded. “We intercepted a phone call between Amira and some tribal elders. Evidently the elders have a lot of say as to what happens out there. They’re urging the kidnappers to make a ‘declaration of intent’. We assume this means that at least one of the hostages is at risk of being killed.” He paused to let that soak in.

  Zach remained stone-faced. “Let’s hear it,” he said.

  The recorded conversation between Amira, another kidnapper, and a village elder played. The three argued back and forth. Amira wanted to kill Arianna. She thought a beheading would be nice. She argued that this would cause the Brits to quickly pay their ransom in order to save their own people. The village elder wanted to kill one of the Brits. No one seemed to agree who should die. “Well, if you’re not going to kill the American, then at least sell her to the Taliban,” was Amira’s final suggestion.

  Zach winced. He couldn’t stand hearing any more and told them to turn the recording off. “We need to move,” Zach said. “Now, listen. My team is ready to go. How soon can you get us in the air?”

  “I’m already working on it,” Haji replied. “I’ve patched this over to your people in the Air Force and told them the situation is mission critical. As soon as the dust storm passes, we launch. In the meantime, our negotiators are trying to stall for more time. And good news. We’ve got our eyeballs back. In the upper elevation, the sky has cleared and our drone is transmitting some pretty clear images again. We’re not seeing any movement away from the caves. We believe the hostages are still in place.”

  “That’s a bit of a relief,” Zach said, “but we need to execute this mission as soon as possible. Call whoever you need to call to try to move this along. My team and I will be in our quarters, geared up and ready to deploy as soon as you get the all clear. I just hope it’s not too late.”

  WITH THE advent of this new information, Zach’s stress level just went through the roof, but he needed to stay calm and steady and execute the mission. The success of the plan relied on surprise and speed…speed on target, not necessarily speed getting there. That was going to take some time.

  First, they faced several more hours before they’d be air-lifted to the drop site as they waited for the storm to leave the area. Due to the need to maintain an element of surprise, the drop site was several miles from the caves. This meant that once on the ground, they would still have a long march to their assault positions. By Zach’s calculation, they’d be in position to launch a rescue at about five a.m., just before dawn, a time it was thought the insurgents would be at their most groggy. But all told, there were still many anxious hours before this mission could even commence.

  Late in the evening, word finally came that a chopper was about fifteen minutes out. Both the SAS and Zach’s teams assembled at the loading zone, geared up and ready to move. They would be inserting by a HALO jump to avoid detection…a high altitude, low opening parachute jump. The high altitude required oxygen and the wearing of specialist clothes to keep from freezing. In addition to the special clothing and equipment required for this type of jump, they would be equipped with their usual body armor, plus AK 47’s, pistols, knives and both stun and hand grenades. Each man also had night vision goggles and a helmet-mounted camera.

  Back at taskforce headquarters, the operation would be watched on four big screen monitors, each showing a live feed from a different source. The helmet cameras of the SAS team assaulting cave number one, Zach’s team attacking cave two, and the drones flying high above would all be transmitting the minute by minute action.

  The helo arrived and transported them a half hour away to a Kurdish Peshmerga airfield near Irbil, where they boarded a high altitude airplane which flew them to the drop site. At this stage, going into battle, different men felt different emotions. Some men slept. Some joked. Some checked and rechecked their equipment. Zach felt relaxed. Being on the move calmed his nerves.

  He couldn’t explain it, but far from being stressed about executing the dangerous HALO jump or worried about being killed, he was exhilarated and eager to get in the fight. A sense of peace came over him. This is what he trained for, and once in training mode, every other worry, emotion, or concern he had was pushed completely out of his head. It was a relief to finally be on the attack.

  The jump master signaled they were three minutes out from the drop zone. There was so much noise in the cargo bay, no voice could be heard especially once the jump door was opened. Each man fastened his oxygen mask acros
s their face, stood, then moved to the back of the plane.

  “Four on deck,” Zach signaled to the jump master.

  The jump master gave him a thumbs up and motioned him forward. Zach watched and waited for the light to turn from yellow to green. When the signal came, he stepped off, doing a forward roll, down into a free fall. One at a time, the rest of the men followed. Constantly checking his altimeter watch, he waited until he was at twenty-seven thousand feet, and then he deployed his chute.

  Other than the jump itself, this was the riskiest time for a jumper. They had to hope no bad guys were sitting down there, just waiting to pick them off. Drone surveillance had indicated the site was clear, but things could change in an instant.

  Zach hit a soft, running landing and quickly came to a halt. One after the other, the rest of the team landed around him. Since the SAS team would be attacking the caves from the opposite direction, the plane circled around and dropped them at a different site.

  Protocol called for them to bury their chute and masks so they began digging. Fortunately the soil was sandy and easy to move. Everyone worked quickly. No one spoke. Except for very rare occasions, hand signals would be used until the mission was over. Complete surprise was an imperative, especially in the desert where sound carried far.

  It was after midnight by the time the equipment was buried and the group began to move up the west slope of the Cheekha Dar Mountain. The lower level was forested and gave them cover, although moving through the foliage slowed them up. About an hour into the trek, Zach signaled a stop. The men formed a three sixty circle, took a knee, and held up.

  “Base, this is Black Beauty. Base this is Black Beauty. Over,” Zach said. There was no answer so he tried again. “Base this is Black Beauty. Radio check. Over.”

  “Roger,” finally came the answer. “We copy. We have your pos. Over.”