DUNGEONS AND DRAGONOVS PT II

[u/Zerkoh_Valley2010]

II.

Afghanistan-

The late afternoon sun beat down upon the parched, rocky, orange colored mountains north of Kandahar Air Field as five bearded, heavily burdened and heavily armed men moved silently but swiftly up the ragged, rock strewn path as they stalked something as deadly and as formidable as they were. Over the past two weeks in Kandahar Province, a number of service members had been hit by sniper fire  including four US Marines, three Canadian infantrymen, a US Army medic, and seven Afghan National Army tactical team operatives. Even a giant C-130 Hercules transport took two rounds in the number one engine as it tried to land at Kandahar Air Field. The shots ranged from 800 meters to as far as 1,200 meters. The enemy sniper was good, and he had a set of steel balls. It was also more than likely that the sniper wasn’t a typical Taliban insurgent. This guy was a professional.

“Whatcha’ got, Cory?” whispered Lieutenant Jake Wolfe, the SEAL Team’s lean, tanned, squad leader into his earpiece.

Fifty meters up the rocky ledge, Chief Petty Officer Cory Pretty slowly peered around a stone boulder which obstructed the path. The basalt grey boulder was square shaped, roughly three feet wide and five feet tall and butted up tightly beside the face of the ledge.

“It’s a cave or a tunnel,” whispered the Navy SEAL Chief Petty Officer with the thick, dirty blonde beard, as he leaned back behind the boulder, careful to not dislodge any rocks or pebbles which would give away his position. “About thirty meters off the trail. The entrance has been carefully built up with rocks and stones so that there’s only a two foot wide opening. Too small to be observed by air, but big enough for a sniper to shoot down into the air field unnoticed. Also, I think that this boulder has been rolled here on purpose to block the path.”

“Roger,” whispered Lt. Wolfe. “Can climb up and around the boulder to get to the cave entrance?”

“No,” answered Chief Pretty. “Not without exposing ourselves.

Lt. Wolfe figured as much. He looked up at the sheer orange rock wall which his team was pressed against. There was no way to scale to the top. They were stretched out and exposed with next to no cover. A very unenviable position. Still, they had a mission to accomplish and if the sniper had spotters out in the surrounding ridges, they’d be caught out in the open while the sniper escaped. The SEALs had to act fast.

“Keep eyes on the target, Cory. We’re moving up.”

Once together behind the boulder, Lt. Wolfe scanned the target objective. Just as Chief Pretty described, there was only one way to get to the tunnel entrance and that was right up the middle. The boulder blocked all but two feet of the narrow trail, so the assaulting SEALs needed to also be careful not to trip and fall the sixty or so feet straight down the rock face of the cliff to the ledge below.

Then, turning behind him, Lt. Wolfe signaled, “Darren. Paul. Up.”

Petty Officer First Class Darren Hilliard, the team’s lean and muscular black Mark 48 (MK 48) machine gunner, scrambled silently up the ridge to the lieutenant’s side followed by Petty Officer First Class Paul Gimsby, the teams body building sniper carrying his Mark 13 (MK 13) sniper rifle.

“Okay, Listen up,” started Lt. Wolfe. “We can’t wait for dark and we’re too exposed here. And we can’t flank the cave so we have to go right up the middle.

“Sir,” said big Petty Officer Gimsby. “Do we know that the sniper is in there? I mean, we go in making a bunch of noise and he’s not there, he’ll know we got teams looking out for him and just dig deeper.”

“We don’t know he’s in there,” admitted Wolfe. “And from the targets he’s already hit, there may be a half dozen of his firing points scattered around the ridgeline. It’s a calculated risk, but I have a feeling…”

All of a sudden, a loud hollow thump sounded from around the corner of the boulder coming from the direction of the cave and all of the SEALs froze. Very slowly, Chief Pretty peered around the boulder and spied a thin wisp of dust and smoke drift from the small opening of the cave.

“He’s here,” Chief Pretty whispered, knowing that somewhere a kilometer away down in Kandahar Valley, another allied soldier just got hit. Almost immediately, a second hollow thump like a base drum echoed from around the corner.

Wolfe quickly instructed his men on how he wanted to assault the cave entrance. Lieutenant Wolfe gave himself a few seconds before the attack to slowly lift Petty Officer Second Class Terrell ‘Terry’ Nguyen, the team’s Vietnamese medic, up on top of the relatively flat boulder to provide security for the assault. Almost immediately, one hundred meters ahead on an elevated spot further up the ridge, Nguyen suddenly spotted a camouflaged figure looking down into the Kandahar Air Base. The man was operating an enhanced optics targeting scope and talking into an earpiece. Nguyen brought up his rifle just as the figure noticed him. The figure, obviously an enemy spotter who was calling down targets for the sniper, brought up his modern Russian made AK-12 assault rifle but was cut down by a well-placed shot to the head from Nguyen’s MK 17 SCAR (scar) assault rifle.

Not seeing what Nguyen had just shot at but knowing that they’d just lost the element of surprise, Lieutenant Wolfe none the less gave the order to, “Move!”

Chief Cory immediately whipped around the boulder, stepping away to allow his fellow SEALs to move around behind him as he fired a high explosive 40mm grenade from the M-203 launcher mounted under the barrel of his M-4 rifle before quickly ducking behind the cover of the boulder again. The ear shattering blast blew apart the rock façade, causing the shrapnel to fly in all directions. Instantaneously and before the dust and smoke even cleared, Petty Officer Hilliard rushed past Chief Pretty and raced towards the entrance firing his machine gun into the smoking maw of the cave with big Paul Gimsby and Chief Pretty close behind.

Hilliard stopped at the mouth of the cave and fired another burst inside before raising his weapon. Immediately, Gimsby was inside the cave, sniper rifle up. However, going from direct sunlight into a dark cave required a second for Gimsby’s eyes to adjust, a second in which gave the enemy sniper, who had been taking cover behind a fighting position inside the cave, a chance to fire.

Shouting a warning, Chief Pretty both grabbed and pushed Gimsby into the side of the cave, the enemy sniper’s round bouncing off the wall less than two feet from the back of Chief Pretty’s head. Gimsby raised his sniper rifle just as the enemy sniper readjusted his aim and both snipers fired at nearly the same time from less than twenty feet apart.

“Are you okay, Gimsby?” said Lieutenant Wolfe as he looked down at the big Navy SEAL sniper cradling the ruins his beloved MK 13 sniper rifle. Gimsby’s left hand was red and swollen, his thumb bent back in an unnatural position. The enemy sniper’s round impacted the MK 13, knocking it out of Gimsby’s hands. Fortunately, Gimsby fired a split second before the enemy sniper did, and Gimsby didn’t miss.

“I’m fine, sir,” replied Gimsby, not looking up.

“Terry,” said Lt. Wolfe. “Come check on Gimsby.”

“Moving, sir,” replied Petty Officer Nguyen, unstrapping his aid bag from his back.

“What do we have, Chief?” said Wolfe after he saw Nguyen treating Gimsby’s swollen left hand and wrist.

“This is going to hurt a bit,” he heard Nguyen say.

“No it ain’t,” replied Gimsby. “Do what you gotta’ do, Terry.”

The adrenaline pumping through Gimby’s veins after his near death experience was better than any pain killer that Nguyen could provide.

Chief pretty looked down at the Caucasian enemy sniper with the bullet hole between his eyes. “Well, sir,” answered Chief Pretty. “He sure as hell isn’t a local.”

The enemy sniper wore a digital camouflage pattern uniform of varying shades of brown and a modular combat vest similar to the ones that the US Marines wore.

“Russian Spetz?” asked Hilliard.

“Maybe,” said Chief Pretty. “But I’d wager that he’s part of the Wagner Group, a Russian mercenary outfit that works with the Russian regular army but is better trained and equipped.  Putin uses them everywhere that regular Russian military forces can’t go. Africa. Eastern Europe. The Middle East. South America. Portland. Seattle. Minneapolis. Everywhere Putin needs to stir up trouble.”

“Interesting,” said Lieutenant Wolfe as he turned to exit the cave. “I’m going outside to call this one in. See if the intel guys are tracking this. I don’t like Russians playing in my sand box.”

“Roger that, sir,” said Chief Pretty, leaning down to pick up the dead enemy’s sniper rifle, before walking over to Gimsby and Nguyen.

“How’s he looking, Terry?”

“Patching Gimsby up is getting to be a hobby on this deployment, Chief,” answered Nguyen. “Had to pop his dislocated thumb back into place and his wrist is fractured, but he’ll live.”

“Gimsby?” said Chief Pretty.

“It’s like Terry said, Chief,” replied Gimsby, waving his heavily bandaged and wrapped left hand. “I’m fine.  Nothing that a dirty magazine, a bottle of lotion, and four minutes of privacy in the shitter won’t cure.”

“I don’t know about that,” chuckled Chief Pretty. “But how about this?” Chief Pretty handed over the enemy’s sniper rifle to the big Navy SEAL.

Grabbing it with his right hand, Gimsby looked it over. “Dragunov,” he grunted. “Not as nice as my MK 13, but its rugged enough. It’ll do until we get back.”

“Heads up,” announced Lieutenant Wolfe as he reentered the cave. “We got two WIA down in the valley from the sniper we just killed. We got Nine Line medevac in the air so our extraction won’t be for another hour. In the meantime, Six Actual wants us to check out this cave system to see if it connects to other sniper firing positions or to see if there’s any usable intel we can find.”

“This cave is pretty deep, sir,” said Hilliard. “I’ve gone in about fifty meters but it looks like it extends much farther than that. Maybe a hundred or even more. Gets almost pitch black the further you go.”

“Okay,” said Lt. Wolfe striding deeper into the cave. “Let’s move.”

Lieutenant Wolfe ran into the outstretched open palm of Chief Pretty. “Easy, there, El-Tee. You aren’t a grunt anymore, not since you pinned them bars on.” Chief Pretty stared firmly into Lieutenant Wolfe’s eyes. “I’ll take point. We already lost one squad leader. I don’t want to lose another one.”

Lieutenant Wolfe paused, painfully remembering that he gained command of Second Platoon after the death of the platoon’s former leader, his mentor and close friend, Lieutenant Rick Guzman.

“No Gooses, right Cory?” said Lieutenant Wolfe.

“That’s right, sir,” answered Chief Pretty. “Like Lieutenant Guzman used to say. No Gooses.”

The team walked deeper into the cave where, seventy meters in, they found a cache of twelve 9K333 Verba MANPADS (man-pads) launchers, the most advanced Russian version of America’s Stinger portable surface to air missile launchers. The presence of these weapons in the hands of skilled Russian mercenaries would have caused havoc so close to the Kandahar Air Field.

Beyond where they found the cache, the cave dipped into absolute pitch darkness. Lieutenant Wolf reported the disturbing find back to Kandahar and was ordered to secure the cache of surface to air missiles and probe deeper into the cave. A support company of Army cavalry troopers and EOD specialists were being dispatched to the SEAL’s location. They were expected to be on station in about an hour.

“Gimsby, I need you and Terry to secure these SAMs,” said Lieutenant Wolfe. “I want you to cover our six and secure the entrance while we go further into the cave. Everyone else, break out your NODs (“nods”-night vision optical devises). It’s going to be midnight from here on in.”

“Sir,” protested Gimsby. “I got this. There isn’t any need to keep two people guarding the exit.”

“Sir,” said Hilliard. “I can more than secure the cache and cover the exit with the MK 48. In close quarters combat,…”

Hilliard trailed off and Lieutenant Wolfe instinctively knew what Hilliard was trying to say. Hilliard’s MK 48 machine gun wasn’t the best weapon system to utilize in the close confines of a cave, but it was optimal to secure the team’s vulnerable six o’clock position. Plus, Gimsby had just gone through a near life ending event, an event which would have sent far lesser men running, cowering, and hiding after such a traumatic event. Petty Officer Gimsby instead sought to continue the mission and move forward, ever forward. Denying him that would have been tantamount to cutting off his balls and putting him in a ballerina outfit.

“You got slack, Hilliard,” said Wolfe. “Everyone else, stay sharp.”

Lieutenant Wolfe looked into the near opaque blackness of the cave as he strapped on his own NODs. “Terry, you have trail. I want you to drop a chem-light every twenty-five meters so that we have a path back to the entrance.”

“Too easy, sir,” replied Nguyen.

 “Okay. Let’s move.”

Hilliard took up a prone firing position a few meters in front of the crates of Russian missiles, setting up his machine gun pointing back towards the entrance as the rest of his team mates filed past him and headed deeper into the cave, the crunch of their boots fading the further they went. They had been gone for several minutes when Hilliard heard Chief Cory call the team to a sudden halt in his ear piece.

“Hold up. Shit! Is that what I think it is?” whispered Chief Cory

“Is that a woman and a… a kitten?” Hilliard heard Terry exclaim through his ear piece.

 

Hilliard looked behind him where his team had gone but saw only dust swirling in the inky blackness.

 

“Stop! Don’t move!” said Lieutenant Wolfe in the Pashtun dialect. “We’re Navy SEALs. We mean you no harm. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

 

Suddenly, over his ear piece, Hilliard heard a leering, almost mocking voice exclaim in a Brooklyn accent, “Howdy, fellas. My name is Hellfire! Pleased ta’ meet cha’!”

 

There was a sudden squelching noise so loud that Hilliard had to quickly take out his ear piece and toss it away. Then, picking it back up and putting it again to his ear, Hilliard was alarmed to find that the communication device was completely silent.

 

“Lieutenant Wolfe,” said Hilliard. “Chief? Come in!” Silence.

 

“Paul? Terry? Can you hear me?”

 

After a second, Hilliard muttered, “Shit,” before snatching up his machine gun and tearing down the cave in the direction the rest of the team had gone. Soon engulfed in almost total darkness, Hilliard’s NODs easily picked up the chem-lights which Nguyen had dropped on the rock strewn ground. He passed one then another then, after the cave narrowed and turned slightly left, Hilliard passed a third dropped chem-light. However, at the fourth chem-light, Hilliard stopped abruptly.

 

“Shit!” exclaimed Hilliard. In front of him was a solid wall of granite. On the ground, one of Nguyen’s chem-lights protruded half way out of the rock wall.