Enemy in the ashes, p.9
Enemy in the Ashes, page 9
part #33 of Ashes Series
he said.
"Yo, Mike," Ben said. "Any word from the Emir of Kuwait yet on our request to stage our attacks from his country?"
"Yeah, Ben. It was the strangest thing. When I first called and asked for permission, he was emphatic in his denial. In fact, he said if you tried to land troops or materiel in his country, he would have the planes shot out of the air."
"Oh?" Ben said, his lips tight.
"Yeah. The son of a bitch was downright rude."
"So, then what happened?"
"Hell if I know. All I know is that he called me back four hours later and sugar wouldn't melt in his mouth. He
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said he'd reconsidered and we were welcome to use the airstrip outside of Kuwait City for whatever we needed."
Ben gave a short laugh. I smell the fine fingers of Jean-Francois Chapelle in here somewhere."
"But I thought Chapelle was furious about your decision to get involved in this fracas," Mike said.
"So he said," Ben replied. "But you've got to remember Chapelle is a master diplomat."
"In other words, he speaks out of both sides of his mouth," Mike said.
"Exactly. Now Chapelle can deny any U.N. responsibility for our actions, while at the same time hoping we'll somehow manage to pull his fat out of the fire." Ben chuckled again. "It was a masterful performance."
"Well, as I've said, you're cleared to land at Kuwait City," Mike said.
"How about the ships?" Ben asked, referring to the large tankers they had dispatched toward Kuwait loaded with Apache attack helicopters and other heavy equipment too large to be carried on the C-130s.
"They're on their way. They should arrive a few days after you do and once they're unloaded, the choppers and other heavy tanks and stuff will be forwarded to your positions."
"Great job, Mike. Thanks," Ben said.
"Okay, boss. I'll keep my ears to the ground over here. I've got all my Intel sources on high alert to find out anything they can about El Farrar's positions and troop strengths."
"Good. I'll talk to you later then," Ben said. "You can reach me on the SOHFRAD at any time."
"Signing off," Mike said.
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The landing at Kuwait City Airport was anticlimactic after all of the intrigue involved in getting the Emir's permission to use the airfield.
The two transports carrying the SUSA troops and their equipment landed without incident.
When Ben stepped off the first C-130, he was met by a delegation of men in traditional Arab garb. The leader stepped forward and inclined his head in a small bow. "General Raines, I am Abdullah Yassine," he said.
"I am here to welcome you and your troops to Kuwait."
"Thank you, Mr. Yassine," Ben said, returning the bow.
Yassine pointed to a cluster of small buildings on the fringe of the airport. "The Emir has arranged for you to use those buildings as a command post, as well as the buildings nearby as barracks for your troops. I hope they are satisfactory."
Ben nodded. "I am sure they will be more than adequate, Mr. Yassine. As for the troops, they will only be here for a short while. Once we determine where El Far-rar's men are, we will be sending the troops on their way."
Yassine glanced at Bartholomew Wiley-Smeyth standing behind Ben. "I assume you are Mr. Wiley-Smeyth from England?" he asked.
Bart inclined his head. "At your service, sir."
"I understand there are several airplanes due to arrive here from your country as well?* Yassine asked.
"That is correct," Bart said, glancing at his watch. "They should be here within the hour."
"There should be adequate room for your troops in the barracks, if that is all right?"
"Sure," Bart said with a smile directed at Ben. "We don't mind sharing our quarters with the Yanks."
"Good," Yassine said, "then if you will follow me, I will show you to your facilities."
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Ben looked at Buddy and Major Bean. "Get the troops assembled along with their equipment and meet us at the barracks."
As Ben and Bart walked off with Yassine, Coop approached Buddy. "Sir,"
he said.
"Yes?" Buddy answered.
"Is there any chance of getting some chow any time soon?" Coop asked, rubbing his abdomen. "I'm so hungry my stomach thinks my throat's been cut."
Buddy winked at Major Bean so Coop couldn't see. "Sure, Coop. I'll bet the Kuwaitis have some figs and goat cheese all laid out for us in the barracks."
"Figs and goat cheese?" Coop asked, his face screwed up in a frown.
"Yeah, and if we're really lucky, they'll have some camel burgers on the grill," Bean added, trying to suppress a smile.
"Uh," Coop said, "any possibility of just having some good old MREs?"
Buddy and Bean both laughed. "That's the first time I've ever heard anyone request MREs over real food," Bean said.
"Well, you and your scouts are known to eat things that'll make a billy goat puke," Coop said. "But us regular troops require food that is at least partially digestible."
"I'll see what I can do, Coop," Buddy said. "Now, get your gear together and head for the barracks."
"Yes, sir," Coop said, throwing up a halfhearted salute.
As he moved back to the rest of the group, Jersey murmured, "Complain, complain, complain, Coop. That's all you ever do."
"Hey," he replied, "I'm a growing boy. I need my nourishment."
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She patted his stomach. "You're growing, all right, but not in the right places."
He gave her a lascivious grin. "And just how would you know about that?"
he challenged.
"Why, didn't you know, Coop?" she asked. "You're famous. There are detailed descriptions of your . .. shortcomings on the wall of the women's rest rooms back at the base."
"What?" Coop asked, his face flaming red.
"Yeah," Jersey answered. "There's a drawing of a couple of fingers like this," she said, holding up her thumb and index finger about an inch apart. "It says for a disappointing time, call Cooper, and it lists your phone number on the wall."
"Bullshit!" Coop exclaimed as he moved off to pick up his duffle bag.
"The walls of the women's rest rooms ain't near wide enough to show my measurements."
Jersey and the other women in the group all laughed, and began to pick up their bags too.
110 El Farrar slammed the phone down and muttered a strong curse in his native tongue. Muhammad Atwa, who was sitting nearby sipping orange juice, looked up at him. He'd heard only El Farrar's part of the conversation.
"What is wrong, Abdullah?" he asked, wondering what had so angered his leader.
"That son of a whore Ben Raines says he is going to come after me in spite of the threat to the oil fields."
"Cannot the U.N. do something to stop him?"
El Farrar shook his head. "Apparently not. Raines has put himself above the U.N. and wishes to push the world to the brink of disaster."
The orange juice turned to acid in Atwa's stomach at the news Ben Raines planned to attack their forces. He knew full well just how effective the SUSA fighters could be. "Perhaps if we destroy one of the smaller oil fields as a warning, he would back off," Atwa suggested.
"I cannot," El Farrar answered. "Chapelle says that if any of the oil fields are hurt, he will have the U.N. forces join Raines and attack us."
"He wouldn't dare!" Atwa said.
El Farrar shrugged. "Probably not, but we cannot take that chance. Even with the troops promised us by our Al Nahda and Hezbollah brothers, we cannot possibly stand
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against the U.N. and Ben Raines. Our only chance is to bluff the infidels into giving us power over the oil without a direct confrontation."
Atwa belched softly, his stomach on fire. He doubted that even with the additional troops that were already on their way to the oil fields, they would be able to stand against the SUSA and Ben Raines. In his mind's eye, he could see their plan unraveling. Of course, he mentioned none of this to El Farrar, knowing it would only enrage him if he expressed any doubts.
"Do we know where Raines plans to attack first?" Atwa asked.
"No, but I would doubt that any of the countries we hold would let him use their airfields to stage an attack. That means he will have to use aircraft carriers to deploy his men and equipment, which should give us some time to fortify our positions."
Atwa nodded slowly. "That also means he will be limited in the amount of heavy equipment he'll be able to use." He stroked his chin. "And our men are well equipped to deal with helicopters and attack aircraft."
"Yes, the Stingers we bought on the black market will do nicely against them," El Farrar agreed.
Atwa sighed and got to his feet. This latest setback had caused him to desperately desire a drink of something stronger than orange juice.
"I am going to my quarters for a nap," he said, rubbing his stomach to take some of the sting out.
El Farrar glanced at him with hooded eyes. "Do not drink too much of the devil's spirits today, my friend," he advised in a soft voice, letting Atwa know he was aware of his habit of drinking whiskey. "We are going to be very busy overseeing the transfer of troops to the oil fields."
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Atwa paled. He'd had no idea El Farrar knew he drank. "Yes, my leader,"
he said with a small bow. He left El Farrar's headquarters building resolving to be more careful in his imbibing in the future.
Over the next few days, there was a steady stream of aircraft arriving at the Kuwait City Airport, both from the SUSA and England. Ben arranged for Jackie Malone and her 512 Battalion to be brought over, along with the equipment they'd need.
When Buddy found out Jackie was on the way, he went to Ben's office.
"Ben, I thought this operation was going to be a quick in-and-out guerrilla-type assault," he said as soon as he'd entered the room.
"I see you've heard that I had Mike send Jackie and the 512 over," Ben replied.
Buddy nodded.
"They're here strictly for mopping-up operations," Ben said. "You're correct that the initial attacks will be by small forces, but if Chapelle is right and El Farrar is sending large numbers of regular troops over, then we're gonna need a lot of men to keep the oil fields safe once we've taken control."
"Oh, so they're here as our backup once we've infiltrated and taken out El Farrar's men," Buddy said.
Ben nodded. "Yeah. You and your team are still going to be the first ones in."
Buddy smiled, relieved that he was still in command and would be leading his team on the initial assaults. Though he was an experienced field man, Buddy still lived somewhat in the shadow of his famous father, and was aching to show both Ben and everyone else how good he was.
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Ben knew this, and was aware of just how difficult it was to have a famous father. When he'd decided to step down, he'd floated the names of several of his most senior men and women to his staff officers as possible replacements for him. He was both gratified and at the same time concerned that the staff had all agreed that Buddy should take his place as commander of the SUSA Army. He only hoped that he wasn't giving Buddy more responsibility than he could handle.
"Have the troops from England all arrived?" he asked Buddy.
"Yes, sir, and Jackie and the 512 should be landing any time now. Are you going to want to meet them at the airfield?" Buddy asked.
Ben smiled. "No, that's your place, now that you're commander in chief."
Buddy nodded. "All right. After they're set up in their quarters, I'll bring Jackie in to meet with you," he said, unable to hide his pleasure at Ben's giving him the job of greeting the new arrivals.
"I'll arrange for lunch to be served here and we can discuss your plans over a meal."
"Yes, sir," Buddy said.
Buddy stopped by his quarters and told the team about the imminent arrival of Jackie Malone and her battalion, and said he thought it'd be a good idea if the entire team was on hand to welcome them aboard.
Coop grinned when he heard Jackie Malone was going to be in the country.
It was a poorly kept secret that he and Jackie had once had a short-lived fling. They'd run into each other in a bar several years back while both were on leave. For the next five days, they had stayed in his room and discovered they both liked sex equally well.
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Realizing it was a one-time thing, once their leaves were over, they'd parted ways, but had remained good friends ever since.
Coop thought Jackie the most attractive and dangerous female he'd ever met, outside of Jersey.
Unfortunately, Jersey had found out about the affair, and had teased Coop unmercifully about it every time Jackie was in the vicinity. She wasn't exactly jealous, or so she told herself. Hell, it wasn't the first time Coop conquered a woman, and most assuredly wouldn't be the last. She just felt Coop could do much better.
When Buddy told the team that Jackie was on her way to join them, Jersey immediately glanced at Coop. Seeing his grin and obvious joy at the news, she felt her blood boil.
Coop got to his feet and moved toward the team's rest rooms. "Going to take a shower and put on some froufrou for your girlfriend?" Jersey taunted.
Coop blushed a bright red as the rest of the team laughed. "No," he replied testily. "I just thought I'd put on some fresh BDUs. I've been wearing these for a week."
"Want me to iron them for you?" Jersey asked maliciously.
Coop turned and grinned at her. "Why, Jersey, that would be nice. It's good to know you've finally realized just what a woman's duties are."
Jersey was halfway to her feet with her hand on her K-Bar when Coop decided discretion was the better part of valor and ducked into the men's room.
When Jackie deplaned, Buddy and the team were there to meet them. Jackie stepped up and gave Buddy a smart salute, which he returned with a slight blush.
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"Good to hear of your promotion, Buddy," Jackie said where only he could hear. "You deserve it."
"Thanks, Jackie," Buddy said. "I'll have Harley Reno show your troops where the quarters are and you can join Ben and me for lunch in his office."
While he was talking, Jackie's eyes searched the team standing nearby and came to rest on Coop's. She gave him a quick wink, which Jersey noticed. When Coop winked back, Jersey gave him a dig in the ribs with her elbow.
"Down, boy," she hissed out of the side of her mouth. "Don't get too excited, you might bust your britches."
Coop grinned and hitched up his pants. "Yeah, it's a real shame you don't get this kind of response from men, Jersey. Perhaps if you were a little more feminine . . ."
"I'll remember you said that, Coop. The next time we're in a firefight and I have to save your scrawny ass, I'll just bat my eyes and be feminine. How's that?"
"Uh, forget it, Jerse," Coop replied as his eyes followed Jackie and Buddy as they walked away. "I guess you'll do just as you are."
Jersey shook her head in disgust. "Men," she growled. "Always thinking with your little heads."
Coop put his arm on her shoulder and smiled at her. "Come on, Jerse. You know that's what you love about us."
She laughed. "Well, it does make it easier to deal with you Neanderthals at that."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Oh, all us women have to do to get what we want is unbutton our blouses, show a little cleavage, and your IQs drop fifty points."
As she spoke, she stuck out her chest and let her breasts strain against her BDUs. When Coop's eyes involuntarily
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William W. Johnstone
dropped to stare, she laughed and slapped him on the back. "See what I mean, big boy? Women's ultimate secret-the power of the big head over the little one."
117 SVENTEEN
Al Hazmi, leader of El Farrar's troops in Saudi Arabia, sat at his desk in his headquarters on the outskirts of Riyadh going over reports from his field commanders. He wanted to make absolutely sure that all of the pluto-nium bombs had been set as per his orders.
His commanders, as experienced as they were with fighting guerrilla warfare, were not used to planting bombs designed to do maximal damage to existing structures. They were more used to fixing bombs to bodies of suicide bombers-a much less technical task.
His second in command, Taha al-Alwani, stood at attention in front of his desk while Hazmi went over the written reports al-Alwani had given him.
"You are sure the bombs are all in place and the radio transmitters affixed properly so the bombs can be exploded remotely?" Hazmi asked, glaring at his subordinate with hooded snake eyes.
"Yes, my leader," al-Alwani answered, nodding his head vigorously. "I checked each installation personally to make sure they were connected in the correct manner."
"Good. Now I want you to make sure your men are positioned around the perimeter of the oil field, and are dug in properly so as to repel any possible attacks on our positions."
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"But sir," al-Alwani asked, "do you think the infidels will dare to oppose us now that the bombs are in place?"
Hazmi sighed, hating to explain himself to men under his command. "No.
In fact I think it highly unlikely, al-Awani, but our commander, Abdullah El Farrar, has just sent me a radio message to be on the highest alert until our reinforcement troops arrive." He glared at al-Awani. "Do you wish me to radio El Farrar back and tell him my chief officer, Taha al-Alwani, does not think it necessary to follow his orders?"
Al-Awani's face looked horrified. "No, no, my leader. I did not mean any disrespect by my question. I will immediately do as you ordered."
"That is good, al-Awani, for if anyone manages to get into the oil field, I will personally cut off both your hands and make you eat them."
"Yes, sir!" al-Awani said, saluting smartly before turning on his heels and almost running from Hazmi's office.
Hazmi glanced skyward. "Allah, why must you plague me with idiots for officers?" he asked, and then blushed at his effrontery to question the Almighty God.
Ben Raines called a meeting of all of his staff officers in his office at the Kuwait City Airport. It was time to coordinate the attacks on some of the oil fields.
