several cuts on his head.
As the video continued, two more masked men, dressed in shabby fatigues and with some AK variants slung on their backs, stepped to the bloody-faced man and grabbed his arms. He didn’t resist as they roughly dragged him over to the black flag and forced him to his knees.
My fists were clenched, and my jaw was working with rage. I knew what was coming.
“ The punishment of those who wage war against Allah and His Apostle, and strive with might and main for mischief through the land is execution, or crucifixion, or the cutting off of hands and feet from opposite sides, ” the shemaugh-swathed terrorist intoned, as he lifted a tapanga from the table in front of him, and stepped over to stand over the kneeling American. To cries of “Allahu akhbar!” he put the edge to the young man’s neck, and began to saw.
Blood sprayed, and the young man screamed, a horrible gurgling that died in a few seconds as his trachea was cut through. His murderer kept at it, sawing away at flesh, bone and gristle as blood drenched the remains of the man’s Air Force utilities, and the hands of the butcher that was killing him. With a few hacks and a couple of jerks, the severed head came free, and the terrorist held it up, to the now near-hysterical shouts of “Allahu akhbar! Allahu akhbar!”
“This will be the fate of all infidels!” he shouted. “Let the faithful take heart, and let the Crusader West tremble in fear! Allahu akhbar!” The video ended.
For a long minute, there was only silence. Deadly silence. Heinrich didn’t interrupt it right away.
“That poor bastard,” he finally said, “was Senior Airman Kyle Phillips. He was a data technician at Lemonier. Near as we can tell, the motherfucker who sawed his head off is Al Masri.
“Unfortunately, we can’t gather much from the video. Concrete floor, white walls; could be anywhere over there. One thing we can get is that they may not be keeping all the hostages in one place. We only saw six, and from what we’ve been able to ascertain, including the statements on several jihadi websites, they have a lot more than that.”
He sighed, and his shoulders slumped a little. “Look, I’m sorry I had to show that to you guys. But we’re trying to get you any information that we can, and if the CIA has anything, they aren’t telling us.” He shook his head angrily. “We’re getting precisely dick in the way of support.”
“Do they want the hostages back or not?” Nick demanded. “They had a fucking JSOC compound in that base; they’ve got to have some information to help us out.”
“They don’t want any governmental fingerprints on it,” the Colonel replied. “At least not until they have a slam-dunk. If this goes south, the only involvement that they have is thirty deniable contractors.”
“They’re going to have a lot worse than that!” Alek exploded. “That poor kid is just the first. If they don’t get their shit together, they’re going to have a lot of dead hostages on their hands, not just thirty dead contractors they’d rather didn’t exist.”
“It‘s the Iran hostage situation all over again. They‘re dithering, and the administration doesn‘t want to risk an op going bad. Like I said, you guys are deniable. Hell, you’re more than deniable, you’re potential scapegoats. The mainstream media still hasn’t let go of the Blackwater meme.” The Colonel didn’t bother to hide his disgust.
“So what the fuck are we still doing here?” Bob snarled. “Let’s pull chocks and get the fuck out.”
“We’re still here because we’re getting paid to be here,” Alek said, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Not only that, but those poor bastards might have a fighting chance because of us.” He looked around. “Nothing changes. We find the hostages, and we call in the cavalry.”
“And if there’s no cavalry?” Jim asked quietly. “If they decide it’s too dangerous?”
“Then we kill, steal,
As the video continued, two more masked men, dressed in shabby fatigues and with some AK variants slung on their backs, stepped to the bloody-faced man and grabbed his arms. He didn’t resist as they roughly dragged him over to the black flag and forced him to his knees.
My fists were clenched, and my jaw was working with rage. I knew what was coming.
“ The punishment of those who wage war against Allah and His Apostle, and strive with might and main for mischief through the land is execution, or crucifixion, or the cutting off of hands and feet from opposite sides, ” the shemaugh-swathed terrorist intoned, as he lifted a tapanga from the table in front of him, and stepped over to stand over the kneeling American. To cries of “Allahu akhbar!” he put the edge to the young man’s neck, and began to saw.
Blood sprayed, and the young man screamed, a horrible gurgling that died in a few seconds as his trachea was cut through. His murderer kept at it, sawing away at flesh, bone and gristle as blood drenched the remains of the man’s Air Force utilities, and the hands of the butcher that was killing him. With a few hacks and a couple of jerks, the severed head came free, and the terrorist held it up, to the now near-hysterical shouts of “Allahu akhbar! Allahu akhbar!”
“This will be the fate of all infidels!” he shouted. “Let the faithful take heart, and let the Crusader West tremble in fear! Allahu akhbar!” The video ended.
For a long minute, there was only silence. Deadly silence. Heinrich didn’t interrupt it right away.
“That poor bastard,” he finally said, “was Senior Airman Kyle Phillips. He was a data technician at Lemonier. Near as we can tell, the motherfucker who sawed his head off is Al Masri.
“Unfortunately, we can’t gather much from the video. Concrete floor, white walls; could be anywhere over there. One thing we can get is that they may not be keeping all the hostages in one place. We only saw six, and from what we’ve been able to ascertain, including the statements on several jihadi websites, they have a lot more than that.”
He sighed, and his shoulders slumped a little. “Look, I’m sorry I had to show that to you guys. But we’re trying to get you any information that we can, and if the CIA has anything, they aren’t telling us.” He shook his head angrily. “We’re getting precisely dick in the way of support.”
“Do they want the hostages back or not?” Nick demanded. “They had a fucking JSOC compound in that base; they’ve got to have some information to help us out.”
“They don’t want any governmental fingerprints on it,” the Colonel replied. “At least not until they have a slam-dunk. If this goes south, the only involvement that they have is thirty deniable contractors.”
“They’re going to have a lot worse than that!” Alek exploded. “That poor kid is just the first. If they don’t get their shit together, they’re going to have a lot of dead hostages on their hands, not just thirty dead contractors they’d rather didn’t exist.”
“It‘s the Iran hostage situation all over again. They‘re dithering, and the administration doesn‘t want to risk an op going bad. Like I said, you guys are deniable. Hell, you’re more than deniable, you’re potential scapegoats. The mainstream media still hasn’t let go of the Blackwater meme.” The Colonel didn’t bother to hide his disgust.
“So what the fuck are we still doing here?” Bob snarled. “Let’s pull chocks and get the fuck out.”
“We’re still here because we’re getting paid to be here,” Alek said, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Not only that, but those poor bastards might have a fighting chance because of us.” He looked around. “Nothing changes. We find the hostages, and we call in the cavalry.”
“And if there’s no cavalry?” Jim asked quietly. “If they decide it’s too dangerous?”
“Then we kill, steal,
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