Rocky Mountain Raiding

We have just concluded the operation that I had alluded to earlier. It was a successful raid on a domestically based Al Qaeda sympathizer group.

It was learned that a small group of radical (mostly) American dissidents had opened a small training camp in the mountains, and had very foolishly put out word on the web that they would serve as a haven and a training center for like minded activists. Luckily, they weren't the most tech savvy of groups, and failed to realize that their activities might arouse suspicion and observation by DHS and other government entities.

I am sure the media news cycle will be breaking the story before too long, so I will reveal some the details for you.

The group had been contacted by an undercover agent online, and was presented with the possibility of a volunteer coming to join them. It was arranged then that I would be that volunteer and that I would drive an unmarked vehicle to the compound gates as other units moved into position to storm the compound as soon as the signal was given. I was wired up for the CommVan, so that the higher-ups could follow everything I saw and relay that info to the field in terms of numbers and armaments. The terrorists were told that I was a veteran of the Afghan/Soviet war, and that I was severely disfigured from a bomb blast, but that I had valuable experience and could train others to fight that kind of war. They took the bait and set up the time for me to come to their compound.

I was given an extensive makeup job to cover up the bullet wound scar on my forehead, and to give my visible skin a more 'vibrant' hue. My limping stiffness fit in just right with the identity they had created for me.

I drove up in an old beater of a VW Minibus, and was met at the gate by a scruffy young man who offered his name as Abu Majid, and after he searched me (badly, I might add) and the vehicle, he climbed into the passenger seat and directed me to go past the gate and down the long winding drive that led around a fairly steep, but wooded slope and into a small valley. I was directed to park in a small lot with several other beat-up and aged looking vehicles, and led from that lot back into the woods where a small lodge-like cabin had been built, right up against the far slope, possibly showing that they had dug back into the rock for additional protection and space.

I had spotted only two sentries on the way in, one up in a barely exposed tree stand holding a sniper rifle, and a second sitting in a fairly well constructed fighting positon on the western slope of the valley, shrouded slightly by dead brush. It looked like he might have some serious armaments there, as I noted a tripod mounted gun and the tip of what looked like an RPG sitting against the back of the position. I made sure to keep my glances short, but right on target.

Abu Majid led me up to the cabin, and made a series of tapping sounds on the door that I imagine were supposed to be some sort of code. The door openned into the darkness beyond to reveal a large, sparsely furnished entry hall. A stern-faced woman shrouded in black, except for her face and hands silently admitted us. About a dozen pair of boots were lined up along the near wall, and I noticed that Abu Majid was making quite a show of taking his own boots off. When he indicated that I should do the same, I politely deferred, referring to the severe burns I experienced in Afghanistan, and my need to keep my specially made boots on nearly all of the time. He seemed to accept this as legitimate, and he led me deeper into the building as the woman shuffled off through a side door, silent as a ghost.

Even within the dark confines of the cabin, I kept my sunglasses on, since I knew that one good look at my eyes, and I would raise their suspicions.

Abu Majid led me into a large meeting room, that also seemed to double as a lunch room, and indicated that I should wait here, the others would be out shortly after their midmorning prayers. He then excused himself to take care of his own prayers. I sat down stiffly on one of the small, roundish cushions and composed myself for the wait.

I could hear the quiet recitation of the others engaged in their devotions in a room farther back into the rock of the slope. So they had hollowed some caves to make the place more easily defensible. After the prayers were completed, a mixed group of twelve young and middle-aged men can to join me. I stood up, and greeted the leader, who was evident from his salt and pepper beard and his intense eyes. Most of the men seemed to have middle eastern origins, but a couple of them, especially the younger ones, could easily have passed unremarkably in any suburban mall.

The leader extended his hand and greeted me, "I am Abu Mahmoud, I am pleased to meet you and hope that you can help us in our calling."

"Inshallah," (God willing) I replied. "I am honored to meet you and your brothers-in-arms. I also hope that I may be of service."

With those greetings, Abu Mahmoud invited me to sit down again, and began introducing me to his fellows. He also explained that this place was quickly becoming a refuge for muslims living in America who could no longer tolerate the pagan ways of this society. He asked me to decribe my experiences in Afghanistan, and who I had fought with. I briefly gave out the little spiel that had been rehearsed a hundred times now, and told him of the 'time' I had spent with the mujahadeen and rattled off the names of a couple of commanders who were fairly well known, but now known to be dead.

During the discussion, it was revealed that their group composed presently of 20 men of fighting age, 11 women who were the wives of some of the men, and few small children. I was shown to a small room where my small bag had been brought during the time I was otherwise occupied, and given some time to make my own 'devotions' which I pretended to do.

I knew that the raid would not come until nightfall, so I busied myself nosing about the place, with Abu Majid serving as my guide. He was eager to show off their home, and was easily impressed by my fake accounts of fighting against the Soviets.

I was able to get good images of most of the cabin and the compound, knowing that the CommVan would be using these images to plan the assault. I also made sure to record the sizes and numbers of weapons laying around, since I didn't want to see any of my fellow agents palced in any undue jeopardy.

By nightfall, I had taken my leave to perform my evening devotions alone, and to prepare for the assault. I pulled out the collapsible baton from my bag and waited for the assault to begin. Once the noises from the others had quieted down, I slipped out of the room and made my way as quietly as I could out into the main meeting room, baton held down to my side and out of sight. I then slipped into a small nook next to the locked door into their small armory. I knew this would be the place that the young men would rush to once the raid started, and I wanted to limit the number of combatants who would be armed. I knew that Abu Mahmoud had an assault rifle in his possession, but that he didn't trust for all of the men to have such weapons handy with the small children also present.

Once the alarm sounded, the cries of the young men to get to the armory arose. I stepped out from the shadows as Majid and three others made it to this hall. Gunfire and explosions could be heard outside. Women and children were calling out in fright.

Majid stepped forward, eyeing my now extended baton in my right hand.

"You must stand aside, the enemy has found us out! We must go down as martyrs!"

"Not tonight my friend. Just stay back and wait for my friends peacefully."

He glared at me with hate in his eyes. "You betrayed us, you infidel dog." He motioned for the others, "Let's take him!"

The others hesitated just that one nearly fatal second, as my baton crashed into his shoulder, breaking his clavicle. He dropped like a stone. The remainging three tried to bull rush me, but a couple of quick, hard slashes with the baton ended in two broken legs and a severe concussion. They were all moaning or crying in pain as Abu Mahmoud came around to see what the delay way. He had his AK47 ready, and let go a quick burst of rounds that pushed me back against the door for a moment, before I sprang forward and smashed his trigger hand with a powerful swing. A second swing broke his jaw, his eyes wide at seeing me still standing after his 5 round burst had hit me square in the chest.

As quick as that, the assault squads had secured the perimeter, and blasted in the front door. The resistance had ended without much further fighting, since the men left in the cabin had been largely left without assault weapons. In the end, only three of the four sentries had been killed, and everyone in the house remained alive, if not whole. Luckily, none of the children were harmed in the assault, and only one minor injury occurred among the females.

John Red Bear had led one of the assault teams, and he seemed to be genuinely glad to see me when the teams assembled in the cabin, after everything was secure. Other agents were just looking at my fresh bullet holes and looking away again nervously, avoiding having to talk to me. Drake came in after all was secure and beamed with pride to room as he exclaimed what a success his project had been. The bastard treated me like a damn asset right there in front of the assault teams!

Well, I ignored him, and took John aside. "I think I would like to learn about that spirit walking you spoke of before, as soon as we can arrange a time."

He smiled, and gripped my hand in a firm grasp, "We shall make the time soon my friend. Until then, take this."

He had placed a small leather pouch attached to a pair of long, narrow, leather ties in my hand, which I opened to look at.

He closed my hand around it before I could get a good look at it, and he whispered to me, "It is powerful medicine my friend, and will help you until I can show you how to help yourself. Wear it around your neck for now."

I put the pouch and ties into my pocket, and shuffled off to my room to get my things. Drake wanted to take me back to the based camp and debrief me on the hours leading up to the assault.

Back at basecamp, I woodenly answered all of the questions I was asked, and wrote up my reports, but my mind was busy thinking about what it might be like to walk as a spirit...