I had originally intended this to be a two part story, But I got so caught up in it that it begged to be told in one part. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
*****
Lieutenant Mitchell called our squad together early one morning in late November. Mitchell was a newly minted second lieutenant assigned to our squad replacing a seasoned veteran. Just great. Well, he wouldn't be the first one I would have to break-in.
Intel had provided us with information that three hostages had been taken, one a young American woman by the name of Emily Thornton, by an ISIS terror group operating some 200 kilometers from our base. She was being held hostage for a ransom from her family. Our squad had been selected to intervene and attempt a rescue.
We were taken to a site approximately five klicks from where they were being held. It took us about forty minutes to make our way to the site. Lieutenant Mitchell ordered me and my spotter to take position on a small hillside some six hundred meters from the front of the building while he and the reminder of the squad made their way to the rear.
I am a sniper in the Untied States Marine Corps holding the rank of Gunnery Sergeant. My name is Frederick Wolfgang Steiger, but go by my nickname, Rick, for obvious reasons. My spotter is Lance Corporal Thomas McMurray.
We had just taken up our position when we observed three hostages being led from the nondescript building. They were dressed in loose fitting orange jumpsuits, each with a cloth hood over their head. Their would be executioners forced them to kneel in front of them. The three ISIS terrorists were dressed in long flowing robes from head to toe with the only visible parts of their body being a narrow strip of their face allowing them to see and their hands.
The tallest of the three terrorists stood behind a kneeling hostage with a knife in his hands. I sighted my M110 recoil-operated, semi-automatic a heavy SASR (Special Application Scoped Rifle) on him. Just as he drew back his hand holding the knife I fired. Before the 7.62 round struck him in his forehead I had sighted and fired at the second target and then at the third man.
My spotter whispered in my ear . . . . "Target one down . . two down . . three down."
In the space of less than one and a half seconds three men lay dead in the dirt.
"Where is the guy the camera?" I asked McMurray.
"Twenty meters to the left," he answered.
I quickly found him in my 30 mm scope just as he was rising to his knees with a pistol in his hand. Before he could fire I shot him in the back of his head.
Then both of us heard sounds of flash/bang grenades followed by gunfire from the building. Lieutenant Mitchell emerged from the building and signaled the two of us to come down and join him.
By the time we arrived at the scene the three hostages had had their hoods removed and our combat medic Pharmacist Mate William Collins, affectionately known as 'Doc', was treating them.
As I walked up Mitchell said to me. "Just had to shoot them in the head, didn't you Gunny? You know how hard that makes identifying them, don't you?"
"Yes, Sir. I do. But you never know what kind of body armor they might be wearing under those heavy robes. Head shots are sure kills, Sir." I replied.
Proving my point I went over to one of the dead terrorists and moved his clothing aside revealing a high-tech kevlar vest.
"If I had shot him in his chest from where I was I doubt it would have stopped him, Sir."
"You're right Gunny. I should know better than to question you. We'll take some blood samples, finger prints and see if the forensics boys can ID them."
"Oh, there is three more dead in the house. Appears one of them had his dick bitten off and he bled to death. Simpson killed the other two."
"We'll remain here for awhile, Gunny. You and the 'Doc' transport the hostages back to base."
The lieutenant had no sooner finished speaking to me when I heard the distinctive sounds of the rotors of the Sea Knight helicopter as it approached.
As we boarded 'Doc' came over and shouted in my ear.
"The three of them were pretty heavily drugged up to make them compliant as to what was going to happen. I've given them something to counter act what they were given. The two younger ones are not doing too well. I'll stay with them, but you'll have to handle the older one."
"When she begins to come out from under of the effects of what she was given she'll be disoriented and scared. Do what you have to do to keep her calm." He instructed me.
Sure enough some fifteen minutes after we took off for our flight back she began regaining her faculties, stood up and started struggling and flailing her arms around. I managed to wrap her up in my arms and pull her down onto my lap, whispering calming words in her ear.
She soon settled down. But every time I tried releasing her she began struggling again. I had no choice but to continue holding her against my body for the remainder of the ninety minute flight back to base. Once I looked past the dirt and dried tears on her face I saw she was (is) a very pretty young woman.
Over the next ninety minutes I had time to reflect back on my life that had brought to this moment.
********************
I was almost fifteen years old when my dad left on one of his extended business trips one morning. As he did every time he left on one of these trips he took me aside and said to me.
"Rick be sure to take good care of your mom and sisters for me while I am gone. You are the man of the house until I come home."
"I will pop. I promise you I'll take care of them." I replied.
Little did I realize then how much that promise would impact my life. My father never came back.
It was the middle of winter and a severe ice storm had struck the just day before he left. The roads were still icy and his car hit a patch of black ice. Unable to regain control he crashed into a large tree. We were told he died instantly.
His life insurance was just enough to pay for his funeral and a few months of mortgage payments. Mom had a job at the local library but it didn't pay enough to support the four of us; her, my two younger sisters and me. She found a part-time job, working from the time she got off at the library until eleven at night as well as all day Saturday and Sunday.
Even with that added income we only just managed to scrape by. Working all those hours soon took a toll on her. She was always tired and fast becoming worn out.
As soon as I turned fifteen I got a part-time job working at the market after school and on Saturdays. I gave everything I earned to my mother. It helped and she was able to cut back on some of the extra hours she was working.
When I turned seventeen I left the market and got a job on the loading dock of the local factory. I worked the night shift from when school let out to midnight. It paid a whole lot better and with that income mom was finally able to quit her part-time jobs.
Even with working all those hours I still did well in school. So well that I was the valedictorian of my high school class. My guidance counselor encouraged me to take the SATs and I had a perfect score on the mathematics portion and missed a perfect score on the verbal section of the exam by two points.
I had offers from several universities and colleges. I soon realized that even with a full academic scholarship we wouldn't be able to afford the incidental costs. Besides my mom and sisters depended on my income from the loading dock at the factory to make ends meet. My sisters were still too young to get jobs so I decided to forgo college and continue working at the factory. I was bound and determined to keep the promise I made to my father.
Then the economy went south and the factory was forced to close. There were no other jobs available. I decided to investigate the military. The Marine Corps appealed to me so I enlisted.
When I told my mom she was not happy. But she reluctantly became convinced when I told her I would be getting three meals a day/seven days a week, all my clothing would be provided and I would have free health care as well as being able to enroll in on-line courses for college credit. I made arrangements to have most of my monthly pay sent home for mom and my sisters to replace what I had been earning at the factory.
I was sent to Parris Island, South Carolina for basic training. It was tough. I kept my eyes and ears open and did what I was told without any questions or arguments. The first time we went to the rifle range I had a ball. I had always been blessed with excellent eyesight and great eye-hand coordination so I did real well at the range.
My Drill Instructor was impressed with my uncanny ability to group my shots within a quarter of an inch on any target at any range from two-hundred out to four-hundred yards using just the iron sights of the weapon. I did so well that upon completion of boot camp I was sent to sniper school.
After finishing sniper school I had a year and a half of additional training before I was sent overseas for my first tour of duty in Iraq. Now I was just beginning my fourth tour.
Being stationed in a war zone qualified for extra-hazardous duty pay. That coupled with no income tax made it attractive for me to keep volunteering for the additional tours. I really could use the money since my sisters were now in college and the money I sent them really came in handy.
I snapped out of my reminiscing back to the present when the woman on my lap began squirming and wiggling around. Somehow she had managed to free her arms from my bear hug and they were now firmly wrapped around my neck with her head nestled under my chin.
********************
When we landed I helped her out of the aircraft into the waiting arms of the medical team that was there to meet us. She placed her hand behind my head, pulling it down to her lips and gave me a long kiss.
"Thank you for everything," she whispered in my ear before giving me another kiss.
Before I could respond 'Doc' called to me from inside the helicopter.
"Gunny, give me a hand with these two. They're still in pretty bad shape."
Returning to the aircraft I re-entered. 'Doc' was struggling with two terrified young girls that appeared to be in their early to mid-teens. They had been severely traumatized by their ordeal and now found themselves surrounded by strangers. No wonder that they were hysterical and refusing to move.
'Doc' picked up the older of the two, exited the helicopter and I followed carrying the other young girl. They were both crying and clutching at us as we walked to the medical staff. As soon as they saw the older woman, already in the vehicle, they calmed down and allowed themselves to be placed alongside of her.
