13 Hours The Inside Account of What Really Happened In Benghazi (35 page)

Hours of near-constant watch began to play tricks on Jack’s tired eyes. He stared at a point on top of the northwestern wall, perhaps fifty yards from his post on Building D, and grew certain that a man was lying motionless atop the wall. He asked the nearby DS agent if he saw the man, but it was only Jack’s imagination.

A half hour or so passed with no new threats, and the two men on Building D traded stories about their military experiences. “If this was back in Iraq,” the DS agent told Jack, “we would have had a couple of Blackhawks land and pick us up or help us out.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “Don’t expect that here. We don’t have anything.”

Jack had begun to believe that they might be stuck at the Annex for several days before someone could figure out how to evacuate them safely.

During a quiet period, the DS agent spoke on his cell phone to someone who Jack believed was from the State Department. The DS agent said the attack on the Compound was already on the news back home, and the media reports suggested that it escalated from a street protest over an anti-Islamic film. Jack knew there had been no such demonstrations in Benghazi, so he wondered what else was wrong about how the story was being told. But he had bigger worries, so he set that thought aside.

The DS agent also learned from the call that a white male had apparently been found alive in the villa at the Compound, and that he’d been taken to a nearby hospital. Surprised, Jack considered spreading the word over the radio, to raise everyone’s spirits, but then he thought better of it.

Jack wanted to believe the ambassador was alive, but the news sounded too good to be true. Maybe it was another mistake, like the reports about spontaneous, Cairo-like protests in Benghazi prior to the attack. On one hand, if the man at the hospital was indeed the ambassador, Jack was glad that Stevens hadn’t been kidnapped or murdered by terrorists, as he and Rone had feared. But Jack had been inside the villa multiple times, and he’d pulled Sean Smith through the window. He couldn’t imagine how anyone who was inside could have survived after the operators and DS agents left.

As Tig resumed his watch over the northeast area beyond the walls, he spotted two Libyan men walking south toward the Annex down a darkened dirt roadway between the tin-roofed stockyard sheds. He wasn’t sure, but they might have been the shepherds he’d seen earlier. Tig set his laser gunsight to display a visible red beam.

“If they keep coming, I’m gonna lase them,” Tig told Oz.

In the dark, the operators couldn’t tell if the men carried weapons, but Tig wouldn’t take any chances. He could still hear chanting from the direction of the Compound, and he couldn’t understand why anyone would approach the Annex on foot after two firefights, unless they intended to start a third.

Tig took aim and flashed the laser beam on the chest of one man, then moved it to the other.
If you keep coming
, he thought,
I’m pretty much gonna kill you
.

Each man stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a red dot dancing on his chest. Both abruptly turned west and sat down next to a building separated from the Annex by a stand of trees. They never came back, and Tig never learned who they were.

The sheep in the open pens remained a preoccupation for Oz and Tig. The animals’ heads bobbed up and down, like swimmers in a crowded pool, as they jostled for position. As the operators stared at the sheep’s long faces in the dark, they began to seem almost human. Making matters worse, rams regularly rose up on their hind legs to mount ewes. Each time it happened, Oz and Tig did a double take to be sure it wasn’t a man moving among the sheep toward
the wall. Although Tig had retrieved his helmet, his broken night-vision goggles made it particularly hard for him to distinguish between coupling livestock and crouching humans.

He and Oz called on the radio for stun grenades or flash bangs to toss into the pens. The operators thought the noise would rearrange the animals, allowing them to be sure that attackers weren’t concealed among the livestock. No noisemakers were available, so Tig and Oz considered shining their flashlights, but that would have exposed their position on the tower.

Finally, Oz had an idea: “Let’s just start killing the sheep.”

If he and Tig had seen even one man among the animals, they might have done it. But that wasn’t the case, so Oz and Tig put their sheep-slaughter thoughts on hold. Part of their hesitation was the knowledge that they’d spark a bureaucratic nightmare of second-guessing when the animals’ owner demanded restitution and their bosses demanded explanations. Plus, all that sheep shooting would attract more unwanted attention and aggravate their ringing ears. Despite teasing Oz about the gauze bandages he’d used as earplugs, Tig had followed suit.

They passed the time by joking and talking, telling each other that the United States had gotten its money’s worth for teaching them how to be soldiers. They’d both seen action before, but nothing as extended or intense as this. “Finally,” Tig said with a sardonic laugh, “we get to put our training to use.”

When Tanto felt certain that the second firefight was over, he returned to his lawn chair and a half-eaten candy bar, washing it down with a gulp of water.
We kicked their ass again
, he thought.
We might get out of this, whether we get help or not. We just need to find a way to exit out of here. But shit, things are going good.

“Looks like we repelled the attackers,” Tanto told the Team Leader by radio. “There’s nobody out there. They’re gone.” He could have stopped there, but Tanto took pride in his smart-ass reputation. He couldn’t resist needling the T.L. and other base officials about the fact that whoever was watching the video stream from the drone hadn’t warned them about the men approaching on foot before the second attack. “Go ahead and tell the ISR guys the same, since obviously they’re not seeing what’s going on down here.”

Oz left Tig alone at the tower so he could check the other fighting positions, to see if shooters needed water, ammo, a bathroom break, or anything else. Oz climbed the ladder at Building C and joined Rone at a belt-fed machine gun position at the roof’s northwest corner, while DS agent Dave Ubben stood watch near the northeast corner. The Annex staffer who’d been in Afghanistan climbed down from the roof to collect his personal belongings.

Rone and Oz stood side by side, scanning Zombieland and the stockyard area for movement. They were silent for long stretches, a product of deep fatigue and not wanting to give away their position. But now and then they spoke in quiet voices. Oz asked Rone how things had gone at the Compound. After walking Oz through the events, Rone told him how proud he was of everyone’s actions.

“You know,” Rone said, “we’ve got some frigging
hellish warriors here. These guys are as good as any I’ve ever worked with.”

Rone had served tours in Afghanistan and Iraq, and had been honored for valor while among elite Navy SEALs. Hearing that Rone felt so strongly about their Benghazi team filled Oz with pride.

“I think we’re all glad that we’ve got each other,” Oz said.

Oz asked Rone how the Team Leader had performed at the Compound. The T.L. hadn’t joined the operators at the Annex fighting positions, but Rone had no problem with that or with the T.L.’s work at the Compound. “He did great,” Rone said. “He let us do our thing while he handled command and control.”

Rone told Oz how he became lost inside the burning villa, and how Tig had led him to safety. “He saved my life because he came back for me,” Rone said.

They lapsed into silence and continued to watch beyond the wall, listening for noises and occasionally dropping their night-vision goggles over their eyes for a better look. Rone asked if Oz needed medical care for the cut on his nose, but Oz said he was fine. After another silence, they talked about their wives and children.

Rone told Oz that he was eager to return home to see his family, especially after having extended this trip in Benghazi. Rone found it amusing that he, Oz, and Tig all had infant children, and that Jack’s wife was pregnant. He talked about how happy he was to be a father, and how much he looked forward to ending his operator career and raising his newborn son, Kai. He joked that they’d all be senior citizens by the time their youngest graduated from high school.

“I think it’s going to be easier for me, having a son,”
Rone kidded Oz. “You’re gonna be old when you’re trying to fight off your daughter’s boyfriends!”

They stood together as the long night continued, still looking out over Zombieland. The staffer who’d been in Afghanistan returned, but Oz told him that he could go back inside Building C. The rooftop was covered with Rone, Oz, and Dave Ubben.

Tanto climbed down from Building B and went alone atop Building A, near the front gate, to cover the south wall in case their enemies tried from a new direction. He also wanted to keep watch over the unfinished building across the street that Jack worried might be a sniper roost. No chair awaited him, so Tanto stood or took a knee while fighting exhaustion as the night dragged on.

An Annex staffer came on the radio and asked if anyone on the roofs needed anything. No one answered, so Tanto called out: “You know what, yeah, I could use some food and some water up on Building A. And if anybody knows of a big-titty, blonde-haired stripper, I could use her up here, too.” He looked over to Building B and saw D.B. shaking his head and smiling.

Tanto’s supplies arrived in the hands of a male, African-American staffer who was a serious weightlifter with bulging pectoral muscles. “Well,” Tanto said, “you’ve got big titties. You’re not blonde-haired and blue-eyed, but you’ll have to do.” The staffer burst out laughing.

He kept Tanto company for about fifteen minutes, making whispered conversation to pass the time. With his left eardrum blown and his right ear ringing, Tanto knew he couldn’t trust his hearing. For more than an hour, he’d
thought he heard voices coming from a field beyond the south wall. He stared into the brush but couldn’t see anyone there. Tanto asked the staffer to listen. He told Tanto that the field was silent. When the staffer left, Tanto again thought he heard voices.

As quiet settled over the Annex, Rone called on the radio to ask whether anyone else needed medical care. Alone again, Tanto took the opportunity to get treated for his injured left arm from when the wall collapsed outside the Compound. Rone climbed to the roof of Building A, where he cleaned and wrapped Tanto’s arm, then rejoined Oz and Dave Ubben atop Building C.