Posted: 11/17/2010 12:49:19 AM EDT
|
My contribution: it is not exactly a survival story just yet, this is essentially the prequel to it all and how we could end up there. Here it is for your enjoyment and comments.
––––-Intro ends––––- The country had a long and enduring history of invaders and the natives repelling them. Even now, this land was hostile to its current occupiers and natives. As of the earth herself was screaming to stop fighting over her in this particular spot. The snow fell hard and fast, it stuck everywhere. The Hindu Kush surrounded the northern and eastern valley of this all important city. Centuries ago this area was home to a famed trading route from the mysterious far east to the slums and hallowed halls of Europe. Now it was home to the most powerful military ever to be unleashed on its enemies. Yet the heavy snow kept everyone inside and most aircraft on the ground. The unfortunate contracted Afghans and a few American Air Force engineers shoveled the snow off the two runways. But while the howling wind and snow poured down on Bagram Airfield the men and women inside a slate gray complex of buildings were oblivious to it all. There were no windows. Only four entrances and exists all guarded by the only people with loaded weapons. It was surrounded by barriers nearly fifteen feet high and a full two feet of concrete. A large three story building was the centerpiece of several smaller buildings that houses several essential components to the mission within what many called “the Facility”. Within the walls of this complex two men sat in a room, again no windows and only one door. A small camera peaked through the false ceiling and a Smartboard was able to be used but this meeting did not require one. There was normally three men, the extra a translator, in these booths but this one only required two. Both spoke English and both had spend grueling hours talking to each other over topics big and small. What the man in the orange jumpsuit did not know is that after these meetings the other man, in polos and khaki shorts with a beard, would spend another three hours writing reports on what they discussed. The man in polos also had what would normally be an unnatural beard and hair so long he tied it up in a pony tail once out of the room. “We have a few more things to discuss, Mummar,” Nathan Dobbs spoke to his captive. A nod was all he got from the name he had essentially owned for nearly a year now. “Tomorrow, you will be released and allowed back to your home. I hope we have had time to come to an understanding that the war will continue until your friends stop attacking us and the government.” A nod. “Second, you hold a position of power and responsibility second to none among your people. I want you to tell your people, that the war can be over if those conditions can be met. We hold no ill will towards Islam, not even your practices, but we must not allow ourselves to be attacked by people you align yourselves with.” A nod. From outside a shudder shook the massive building, Nate wondered if it was another rocket.. Mummar Haqqani had no contact with his family or other Afghans for nearly a year. He had been broken he knew. He also knew the man he knew as Nate was right, the war was going to continue for no reason other than the Taliban wanted power and the Americans wanted to deny the Talibs that victory. He also knew that Americans cared very little for religion so the propaganda about how the Americans had come on Crusade to convert Muslims was a lie, he had helped preach it in mosques and markets across the area. He knew that he knew nothing of the outside world anymore... “Mummar, tomorrow we’re going to drop you off outside your village with the clothes you came here with, your Quran, your beads, shoes, and food. You’ll be free to tell your people whatever you want but I pray you tell them the truth that you were treated well and that we can work together. But the attacks must stop.” At that moment, a knock on the steel door and Nate stood and turned to answer it. The window showed his partner, a slender feminine face embraced by a short cut crop of brown hair. She had a bewildered look on her face. “What is it Myla?” “You need to come to the situation room, I’ve got a guard to watch him,” she pointed to the captive. “That important? Ok...” He turned to Mummar and told him he must step out but a guard would be with him. “What is it?” Nate looked passed the Latina to see a rush of flames shooting out from the wall of what was the chow hall. “We’ve been hit, well... not directly, but just come to the situation room, be careful for falling rocks.” She lead the way upstairs to the top floor. THey had seen cracks on the building’s cinder block make up and drywall cover but not much physical damage. He was thinking one of the big bunker busters the Air Force had on Bagram had accidently exploded at first. When they arrived at the Joint Operations Center for the JIDC, he saw what happened. The JOC was filled with liquid crystal display televisions tuned to Fox News, British Broadcasting, a few unmanned aerial vehicles displays, and a weather map. The JIDC did not control the UAVs but they could tune to their feeds that were provided, as if subscribing to a secret package from your cable provider. This package however usually included a few Hellfire missiles from the Preadator or Reaper drone carrying them. “Hey Nate, how goes the send off?” the British liaison gripped his shoulder. “Well... I guess its delayed now huh?” a sardonic reply. “Indeed, three of them though... what you see is what is left of Kabul on BBC, we’re on your Fox channel, the other... you’ll see” A cottonmouth sensation overcame him as he watched the flickering screens. It was impressive no matter how many times you watched them. No matter how many times you watched The Sum of All Fears. Twin, as much as they could be, mushroom clouds had formed on the screens and he now knew what caused the minor damage to the massive building he was in. A small yield nuclear weapon had exploded nearly ten kilometers away and the subsequent shock wave had rolled through the valley floor that Bagram Airfield sat on. It was apparent from the weather map that the fall out would avoid the base and the blast itself cause mostly superficial damage to the base. There was a larger circle in yellow that indicated the estimated range of the electromagnetic pulse or EMP that would disable most electronics. This line extended just seven kilometers from the center of the blast. There was no idea how many people had died, that part of Afghanistan was sparsely populated and Bagram was the only real village in the area and it was on the outskirts of the EMP circle. He imagined most houses experienced damage like the JIDC. “Folks lets get settled, we’re tying into a video teleconference from Kandahar, RC-South is putting it on. Colonel Hawksly will appear and begin briefing. Remember, our mic is hot...” The screen flashed black and back to color again. The British S2 located at Kandahar came on the screen. He looked pale which said something because of his black skin. “Gentlemen, Ladies... thank you for joining us. We have reps from all RCs and the CJSOTF online. JIDC and CITF are here as well, we waiting from anyone else? No? Ok. “At 1300 hours local, three small nuclear warheads were detonated within the Afghan theater of war. We believe they were delivered by three medium range ballistic missiles from the eastern province of Iran bordering Herat. As of this time, we do not see any major Iranian military movements but I have spoken with the RC-Southwest commander General Tanner and he is preparing his Marine Corps to deal with an armored attack. We have already retasked all fighter assets in theater to begin combat air patrols over Nimroz province and along the Pakistani border. Close air support is on call for those who need it immediately or currently in contact. As those engagements close, those aircraft will RTB and begin refitting for attacks on Iran. “That takes care of the immediate stuff,” the Briton took a big sigh... “the reason I am speaking to you instead of General Richards or anyone from the COMISAF or NATO HQ is because they were in Kabul at the time of the attack. We believe every camp and operating base in Kabul, along with its citizens, were hit hard and are likely dead. Nearly a million people and an unknown number of combat losses at this time. Because I am senior and the staff of the 82nd Airborne was in Kabul at the time... I have assumed command until General Tanner can arrive at KAF. “Lastly, a third nuclear warhead exploded over central Afghanistan near the town of Tarin Kowt. It did not strike the city but we believe it suffered a malfunction and the guidance system failed. No other missiles are believed to have been fired at this time. “We have begun contacting every nation’s capital and informed them of the situation. The US, UK, and French already knew because of overhead support but others will take longer due to the relays that may have gone through Kabul. We’ll know shortly but KAF is pretty robust. People, we must assume Kabul is a complete lost... The flag has relocated to KAF and we will begin preparations for offensive operations against the Iranian Republic. “JIDC, you are to halt all release operations. No prisoners will be released.” That sentence said a lot. They were beginning to release more than his guy, which meant he’d have to go back and tell Mummar it was going to take longer. Nate felt sick and became worried it was fallout but the map showed that was not likely. But he had spent too much time in Army completing NBC training to not be worried about it. “Everyone else. We are an alliance of nations that was established years ago. We’ve been at this for a very long time and it seems someone wanted to turn it up a notch. We have received assurances from nearly every NATO country that we will see this war to the end,” the emphasis indicated a new war had begun, “and we’ll ensure that it is finished. I was told by the PM and the American President that we’ll go to Tehran and not stop. More instructions will be forthcoming... good luck.” Nate felt the swirl in his stomach... Myla looked similar and they both knew something was not right. The two intelligence soldiers looked at each other and stood waiting for someone to say something. ....on the Mexican border... Two men who were easily confused for Mexicans or other Latinos rode along a clattering International big rig with Texas plates. One spoke in a very thick Spanish accent but was very Texan. The other had no need for such gimmicks, he was born and raised in New York City and spoke like it too. They were the fourth truck in line waiting to be checked for entry into the United States at the Juarez Border Crossing and their cargo was certain to pass inspection unless their intelligence had been wrong. An informant had told them that the radioactive sensors at this border crossing had been broken for a week and this was the perfect time to get their package. So the pair made the run south towards Mexico City and back before anyone got suspicious at their jobs. Their manifest was filled with items that were really in the back of their truck like fruits and made in China faux Mexican trinkets. But not the other items... they were wrapped in thick lead blankets... |