The Lonely Hearts 06 The Grunt 2 (4 page)

“Copy that,” Brett said as his men rushed the house from both the front and back.

Their voices boomed with anger and urgency as they gave direct orders to the captured. 

“Hands up!” Joe screamed at one of the men trying to bolt out of the back door.  “Drop to your knees!  On your fucking knees!” he ordered, motioning downward with the muzzle of his gun.  He bit his lip as he cursed, feeling the old Joe coming out. 

“Hands behind your back!” Geek screamed to another man.

“Clear!” Hound said, clearing the adjoining room. 

“Don’t fuck with me,” Rusty snarled. “You’re not necessary to the completion of this mission. I will blow your fucking head off if you give me one reason!”

It was a fact.  Even if a man did not speak a certain language, he always spoke
weapons
.  No matter what, a gun in the face made any man comply. 

Stepping over the broken down wooden door, Brett walked into the house with two of his men on his flank.  They stopped and assessed the damage and gave a visual confirmation that it was Nabi, who was now being held at gunpoint.  He looked around the makeshift computer room and motioned for his men to start taking the information that they came for. 

Immediately, each man’s Comms earpiece splintered off to specialist back at the command post responsible for assisting with securing all digital evidence.  

Brett sized the target up.  “Let’s get this straight before we even start.  You’re coming with us,” Brett said, looking Nabi in his eyes.  His voice was firm and calm. “This isn’t a request.  This isn’t a negotiation.”

Nabi swallowed hard as he looked down at his son, and then said something in Farsi.

“Hey!” Brett yelled, making everyone in the room snap to attention. “You don’t look at him! You look at me!  And speak fucking English. I know you can, Mohammad Nabi.  It’s too late to play the concerned father.  You brought your son into some pretty illegal fucking shit.  That’s on you – not us.”

Nabi’s eyes rolled and cut to Brett.  “I’m not afraid of you,” Nabi said, spitting on the ground beside Brett’s boot.  “American terrorists have been invading our country, desecrating our land for…”

“Save your recruitment pitch; I’ve already got a job, fucker.” Brett spat on Nabi’s shirt, gun pointed directly at the man’s forehead.  “One way to keep your kid alive is to not show up to do illegal activity with him in tow.  And we know that you’re responsible for over 15 linguists murdered on their doorsteps among other things, you flaming piece of dog shit.”

Brett watched Nabi carefully. Nothing about him, despite the fact that he was surrounded, said that he was willing to give up.  His posture was off; he was not sweating and despite the grenade blast; he seemed more in control of his own body than the others did. This was the sign of a man still on a mission, and Brett didn’t like it one bit. 

Brett scanned the room carefully, looking for booby traps.  The men swiftly packed up and bagged everything while Rusty pulled out the zip ties to take Nabi into custody. 

Still, Brett had that bad feeling in his gut, and it was only growing more noticeable by the minute.

“You, come here,” Brett said, motioning for Nabi’s son. “With me.”

The boy looked back at his father first for permission.  He was visibly shaking, face covered in tears and pant leg covered in piss. 

Brett motioned again; this time with a louder voice, he said, “Come here now!”  He knew the boy was deaf from the grenade and possibly injured.  He touched his earpiece. “Advise as to how we handle the civilian,” Brett said as he kept his eye on the boy and Nabi.

Captain Lawless’ eye twitched.  This was quite a call to make.  Anyone left in the house would be a victim of the airstrike that would happen in 15 minutes, but on the flip side, there was no way that the USMC wanted an insurgent’s kid on the base. He carried not political power and at his age, he had no intelligence to offer.  

Captain Lawless rubbed the bottom of his chin and pursed his lips together, knowing every decision that he made was being logged for review. “Bulldog Four, this snatch and grab is about Mohammad Nabi. This is not a field trip. Proceed as previously discussed.  The civilian is not our concern.” 

“Copy that,” Brett said, rolling the dip in his mouth.  “Watch him,” he ordered one of his men. He turned his attention to the boy. “You know how to get back home from here?” Brett asked with his back to Nabi.

The boy shook his head
yes
. 

Brett wiped the tears from the child’s face.  “Think you could make it home or at least back to the city by yourself on foot?”

The boy shook his head
yes
again without saying a word. 

“Give me my son!” Nabi demanded, struggling against the wrist ties.  “You have no right to speak with him!”

Normally, this would have been the point where Brett would have used his K-bar to plant into Nabi’s hand to encourage his complete compliance, but with the cameras back at the Command Center live, he had to behave himself. 

Brett talked calmly to the scared child.  “Here is what you’re going to do, boy. You’re going to walk, and walk and then walk some more until you get to someone who can help you.  Do you understand that?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy finally answered, looking back at his father.

It was a relief that the boy spoke English.  “Don’t look at him.
Listen
to me,” Brett said, grabbing the child’s face by his chin.  “You have to get as far as you can from this place when I tell you to.  You don’t stick around.  If you do, you will die.”

“I think that’s quite enough Intel,” Captain Lawless interrupted. 

Nabi’s nostrils flared.  “My son doesn’t have a mother because of you
Americans
.”  He said the word, Americans, as if it was a curse.  His teeth showed as he roared.  “My town is destroyed and my country.  Our women are widows.  How would you feel if I killed your wife, blew her into little pieces, so small you can’t even bury her?”

In one quick turn, Brett pressed the muzzle of his weapon to the man’s forehead, fighting every urge to pull the trigger and end him there.  This guy was up to something; he could feel it.  “One more word, Nabi, and you’ll no longer be in the land of the living.”

That was no threat. It was a promise.  Brett’s right index finger stroked the trigger.  

“Remember your objective,” Captain Lawless said into Brett’s earpiece as the situation became more heated.

“I have already given my life to Allah,” Nabi said, hands still behind his head.  His fingers twisted around the gold chain at the nape of his sweaty neck. “I am not afraid.” 

Instinctively, Brett bent to Nabi’s gold necklace and pulled it closer to see that it was a beacon.

“He’s transmitting,” Brett warned, snatching the necklace off his neck. He stumped it with his boot. “Let’s move.  I repeat.  Bulldog Team is departing.”  Brett ordered his other men out of the house.  “Secure the perimeter.”

Immediately, they turned and headed out, leaving him alone in the house with the boy, Nabi and Rusty. 

Tired of being even remotely civil, Rusty yanked Nabi roughly up to his feet.  He pushed him on the back of the head.  “Walk,” he ordered.

Nabi stumbled forward and fell awkwardly on the ground toward the wooden desk, then used the tip of his nose to press a button embedded into the leg. He looked up at Brett with a smirk on his face. 

Check mate.

Brett knew it was an intentional move before the man could hit the ground.  “Move! Move! Take cover!” he said, pushing the boy back through the doorway. 

The explosion was instantaneous, and while contained to the computer room, it did the damage of destroying the remaining equipment, injuring but not killing Nabi and throwing Rusty several feet into the opposite corner. 

The power of the blast blew Brett and child completely out of the room into the common area.   Landing on his back, weapon still in hand, Brett rolled over on his side and coughed up blood. 

“Son of a bitch,” Brett muttered, trying to get his breath.  His ears rang as he tried to get his bearings. 

Stumbling to his feet, Brett found the boy in the corner of the room, bleeding badly from his head from an obvious skull fracture and unconscious.  He quickly checked the boy’s pulse and then ran into the burning computer room to get Rusty. 

Throwing his team member over his aching possibly dislocated shoulder and at the same time dragging Nabi’s broken body out of the rubble by his arm, Brett headed in the direction of the front door toward the boy when suddenly another explosion happened.  The second bomb was on a relay, designed to detonate right behind the first one.   

This explosion was bigger and more powerful.  It rocked the entire house, causing the second floor to partially collapse. 

The men outside turned in dismay, but quickly sprang to action.  

“What the hell?” Hound asked, getting on his radio to let the Command Center know that they had additional trouble. 

“Get eyes on him,” Joe said, seconds after the smoke cleared from the rubble.  “Black!” Joe screamed. “Black!”  Joe threw debris, drywall and furniture out his way, frantically looking for his friend. 

“Here,” Brett said, pushing his hand out from under the pile of rubble that covered him. 

“We’ve got company! We’re either going to stay and play or get the fuck out of here,” Joe screamed, grabbing Brett’s hand and at the same time, pulling the debris off of him as he yanked him out with all of his strength.  Rusty lay beside him, completely out.  They were a mangled pair, covered in blood, heads covered in white drywall. 

“Help
him
,” Brett said, pointing at Rusty.  His chest wheezed like he had possible broken his ribs. 

Joe picked up Rusty and threw him over his shoulder.  “Can you walk?” Joe asked Brett, helping him through the ruins.

“I’ll be fine.” Pulling a long shard of wood out of his neck, Brett spit blood.  “I’ve lost my ears,” he said of his earpiece.  “I’m running blind.  You’ll have to lead me.”

“Got your back,” Joe said, helping him still, even though his friend insisted that he was okay. 

Brett forced himself to perk up.  “I can make it.”  He picked up his weapon and scanned through the rubble. “Where is the boy?” he asked, wincing in pain.  His eyes were blanketed in a sheet of blood. 

Joe shook his head.
Now was not the time
.  “We have to move.”

“Get the boy!” Brett ordered, looking frantically around the destroyed house for any sign of the child. However, due to the explosion and the collapse of the parts of the second floor, any hope of finding him was lost.  His heart sank. 

“Move Marine,” Captain Lawless said into Joe’s earpiece.  “That’s an order.  You have the payload, and you have company coming your way.” He knew that Brett couldn’t hear him and while he admired his heroics, the boy was not the Marine Corps priority. 

“Where is that fucking drone?” David screamed, leaning against the desk. 

“Coming now, sir,” the Specialist answered.

“Now! Damn it!” Captain Lawless screamed as his fists hit the table.  “I want some cover for my men right fucking now!”

As Bulldog Team exited the home, they heard enemy gunfire on the horizon.  Evidently, the signal from Nabi’s necklace had transmitted to a nearby faction of insurgents and the cavalry was on the way.  

The other two men on the team, Hound and Geek, were posted up, returning fire when Bear pulled up in Nabi’s Land Rover.  The steering wheel had been jimmied and hotwired.  

“Let’s move!  They are hot on our asses, Marines!” Bear screamed.  

“Drone approaching,” the Specialist relayed to Captain Lawless at the Command Center.

Captain Lawless raised his attention back to the monitors.  “Give me a count. How many inbound enemy hostiles do we have approaching and in what position?”

“Four vehicles, sir.  Present count is 16 men, headed north bound,” the specialist answered.

Captain Lawless was quick to relay.  “Nest to Bulldog.  You have 16 armed enemy hostiles are approaching in four vehicles.  They will be pulling up on you shortly.  Engage enemy hostiles as they appear.”

“Copy that,” Hound answered. 

“Shot gun,” Geek called, diving into the passenger seat of the SUV. Quickly, he checked his magazine and popped it back inside of his weapon.   There was a little smirk on his face, having never been able to show nervousness even under duress, even as the enemy approached.  Holding his rifle at the ready, he winked at Bear. “Holy shit! It’s about to get real, huh?” He rolled his neck.  “Motherfuckers getting ready to wet their shorts!”

“Boy, you stuck on stupid,” Bear said, knitting his bushy brows into a frown.

In a calm, almost soothing voice, the Command Center radioed over to the men. “Be advised.  Air support is on the way,” Captain Lawless said, pacing the room. “ETA five mikes. 
Move your asses
,” he enunciated with a little more urgency. 

The General kept quiet but smirked.  He liked the way that this Captain did business.

“Five mikes is a long fucking time, man,” Joe said sweating his ass off and helping Brett into the back of the SUV.