FOUND
By Bridgid
AN ADULT TERRY THORNE STORY SET DURING DESERT STORM
DESERT STORM MESSAGE TO OUR TROOPS:
"Punch out, Coaster, you’re not going to make it back to the ship!" came the
frantic voice over the radio.
"I’ll make it, damn it, just watch my six!" came the equally frantic reply "I’m still carrying the litening pods. Can’t let them get 'em, Hammer. Belay that request. That’s an order!"
"You're at angels 5 and dropping, Coaster. You're not gonna make it back to the ship. Punch out now!"
One last look around the cockpit and she realized he was right. There were no instruments left, wires were smoldering, and the ailerons were not answering. The wing and aileron of a Harrier AV8B are one piece including the outrigger pods and fairings which are attached to the forward part of the fuselage. She knew that the damage sustained from the SAM that skirted her ship was fatal to the integrity of the plane. It was a miracle that she was still airborne. Bridgid cinched up the harness and reached under the seat for the ejection lever. "Mayday Mayday Mayday, this is Bulldog 5. I'm going down, repeat Mayday Mayday Mayday."
"Hold the location, Coaster. Godspeed. We will be back to get you. I‘ll have a Snickers waiting for you from the geedunk."
"Affirmative, Hammer, I’m outtie. Don’t leave me here!"
There was fear in her voice as she ejected from the Harrier over enemy territory. What was going to happen? She did not radio her location. Hammer had it locked in his mind and was switching channels to a secure band to avoid the enemy obtaining her position. Would she be captured, tortured, raped, or worse, beheaded? God knows but the odds of surviving in the crippled jet were zero.
The ejection was hard and she was surely unconscious for a few seconds from the impact with the canopy. As the chute opened with a jerk she was brought back to her senses from the freefall. The desert floor was approaching rapidly as she scanned the area looking for a safe place to land. No enemy in sight, she thought as she tugged the lines, turning slightly west toward a dune that may offer some cover. Immediately after landing she unsnapped the stay on her sidearm and gathered the chute up to bury it, concealing it from enemy eyes. What now, do I activate GPS? Have to save the battery in the portable.
Three quick clicks indicated to Hammer that she was safe on the ground as he sighed relief from the transmission. It was now time for him to head back to the ship. He was no good to her circling her location for sure. The SAR team would be in the air before he found the deck of the USS BATTAN.
It was late in the day now and the desert would be cold when night approached. Bridgid hunkered down after taking inventory of the supplies that were concealed in her flight suit. Water, not nearly enough, ham and choke loaf and some particle board that could be stretched for 3 days, a bit of moon floss and a Ka-Bar knife, with her side arm 4 magazines, a pack of smokes, some medical supplies, the radio, and a beacon. Hopefully this would not be a long stay, she thought as she pulled the flight suit zipper closed against the chill. These old black Cadillacs were not going to provide much comfort in the sand that's for sure, she thought as her feet began to swell already.
Sleeping intermittently, Bridgid was startled awake by the sound of an engine, car perhaps, SUV of some sort? She reached into the bellow pocket of her suit for the field glasses. Just over the top of the dune she could see a convoy of some kind. Toyota SUVs, overcrowded with men who appeared to be Bedouin. There were rifle or machine gun barrels protruding from the rear and side windows of the vehicles as she watched the convoy head west. "God, I hope the SAR team finds me soon." she murmured as they drifted from view. If captured, they would not be happy with her after the performance she and Hammer gave over Baghdad last night. For sure they knew she was down, and she was also quite sure this party was deployed to search for her and the downed plane. Both would be a prize to their cause.
The child startled her as he yelled out in Farsi. God, he is just a kid. "Shh, kid, Shhh!" but it was too late. As she un-holstered her sidearm she was overwhelmed by them from behind. How could she let her guard down like that? Fuck!
"A woman!" exclaimed what seemed to be the one in charge, in English.
"Bring her to me, Hassan," came a voice from the rear.
Bridgid lowered her pistol in surrender, if for no other reason than to save her own life for the time being. It was quickly retrieved by a toothless Bedouin who was armed with an ancient and battle worn AK-47. He brandished it proudly as he grabbed Bridgid by the arm and shoved her toward the voice.
"Well, what have we here, the infidel pilot? A woman? G.H. will pay handsomely for this one, I am sure!" he said.
He was dark haired with large dark eyes, dressed in the olive drab of the Republican Guard, with the brass and tacks indicating the rank of colonel. He would be quite handsome under different circumstances. Young for a colonel, Bridgid thought. Good girl, keep thinking, don’t show them fear.
"You speak English?" she directed at the colonel.
This was immediately met with a closed fist to her right cheek. "YOU DO NOT SPEAK, WOMAN! YOU DO NOT SPEAK UNLESS I TELL YOU TO SPEAK."
Bridgid got up from her knees and glared at him. He looked her up and down, smiling like some old man in a titty bar. The toothless one tore the tags from her neck handing them to the colonel.
"Put her in my vehicle," the colonel ordered. "We will have many questions for her, but not here. They will be looking for her, too. We must leave now."
Terry Thorne threw the London Times to the table as he dialed the phone. The headline read "Yank Pilot Captured." The phone rang 12 times before his old friend answered.
"Dino, I need your help. It's a private matter. This one will not be on the books," Terry said.
"Tio, you know I’m game for anything. What's up?"
"Not on the phone. Meet me at the docks in 20 minutes. I'll fill you in."
"Right-o, friend, on the way, over and out."
Terry thought of Bridgid as he drove to the docks, how they first met when he was still in the special forces. She was flying with a Yank team that assisted with a covert intelligence mission that was conducted in Managua. CH53 chopper, extraction team, if he remembered correctly, Her flying talent was not the thing that haunted his mind, though. The short and intense affair they had was. When he first touched her behind the mess tent, his intentions were to just relieve himself of some tension, but his intentions were soon dashed when he realized that this woman was different. No matter how hard he fought it he fell in love with her. He still loved her. He was sure of that. They spent their earned leave after the mission in London at his flat, barely leaving for more than a quick meal, only to return to feed their new-found passion. Both of them were literally swept off their feet and his heart still ached for that passion that they shared. He knew he had to be the one to get her out of Iraq. The Yanks would not negotiate for her freedom as was past practice, even if it did create a media circus.
Dino was waiting for him as he pulled the Jag up to the piling at pier 32.
"Hey, mate, you seen the papers?" Terry queried.
"Yup, so you want to take this mission do you, Terry? It's not going to be easy. Do you plan on letting Uncle Sam know what you want to do?"
"I suppose we would have to. I have a contact with the CIA. We can go back to your flat and call him. We'll be waking him up with the time change between here and Quantico, but I'm sure he will listen to our plan."
"Just exactly what is your plan, Tio? We don’t even know where they've taken her, or if she is even still alive."
"She is alive, Dino, I can feel it. If they're smart they wont harm her yet. She's too valuable a bargaining tool right now, or at least they think so. I don't think the Yanks will negotiate, but they may be open to a covert mission. The Iraqis are not likely to expect anything from us.
"Well, all right then, let's not waste any more time, Terry. I'll make arrangements for transportation, supplies and a few extra guys to help us out. We'll go through Berlin. It will be easier to get into the middle east from there. Now let's go call your spook friend."
Dino knew about Bridgid. Terry talked about her often, especially on those drunken tangents they both went on during their down time. He knew Terry had found the love of his life but they just had some real bad timing.
The "spook" friend was a high-ranking CIA official who lived in Arlington, Virginia. Bob Reese had been an agent for 20 years now and had become friends with Terry when his firm was hired to free an American contract engineer from the Bosnian Serbs. The negotiation was lengthy and the price was high, but the mission was a success. The CIA contracted Terry often afterward. Now it was time for Terry to collect a few favors.
"Terry, you know they won’t negotiate for her, that I can assure you," Bob said, still half asleep.
"I am not looking to negotiate, Bob, I am looking to extract. I will need your help with some intelligence. Do you know where they have her?" Have they made any demands?"
"Nothing yet, Terry, but I will see what I can find out about her whereabouts. I am sure the American government is going to do whatever they can short of negotiation to secure her freedom."
"You know as well as I, Bob, that is not going to be enough. The Iraqis will make demands, the Americans will ignore them and she will be killed. I have to get her out NOW."
"I will advise the brass of your plan and I will do my best to secure the intel for you. No promises, Terry, but on a personal note, good luck, my friend. You are going to need it."
"Thank you, Bob, I know you will do your best," Terry said as he hung up the secure satellite phone.
Bridgid opened her eyes and slowly looked around the dark damp piss-smelling cell she was in. Is this some kind of dream? Fuck, no, guess I’m in deep Kimchee now, she thought. She could hear someone yelling, crying maybe, screaming in pain, who knows? Whatever it was, it did not sound pleasant. The guard opened the door, yanked her to her feet, dragging her up the dirt-floored hallway to another cell. The colonel was standing there waiting as the guard threw her to the floor.
"I do not like seeing you treated like this, Lieutenant Colonel Morgan. That is your name, is it not?"
She nodded , afraid to speak for fear of another blow to the face.
"Would you like some food, a bath perhaps? I can arrange this if you like," he said.
"What's the catch, Colonel?"
‘No catch, Lieutenant Colonel. We want your government to see that we are not the animals they claim we are. We are not barbarians. In fact, you will come to my house, as my guest. Would that suit you? You understand you will be under guard, of course."
Bridgid said nothing as he motioned for the guard to escort her to his residence. What is on his mind? she thought. Is he going to rape me, torture me, or treat me as a guest as he said? Guess I have no choice but to find out.
The guard took her to a modest residence about 1/2 mile away from the prison. It was clean as far as most homes in this area went, indicating that the Colonel was someone of importance, someone who was allowed to have possessions other than what was necessary. Perhaps he was related to Saddam? Perhaps married to one of his daughters or nieces or something like that? Whatever the case, it was good for Bridgid to occupy her mind with these thoughts other than worrying about her potential fate. That would cause anxiety and anxiety was weakness. One cannot be weak under these circumstances.
The guard, his name was Abu, led her to one of the upstairs rooms in the house. There waiting was a young woman dressed in a traditional burka. Abu spoke to her crossly and she scrambled out of the room, returning in less that a minute with soap, towels and a basin for Bridgid. The woman turned and glared toward Abu as he grinned and backed out of the door. " Do not try anything, woman. I will be here at the door. I will kill you."
The woman motioned for Bridgid to remove her clothing but would not speak unnecessarily or look at her. At least it seemed that way to Bridgid. Who knows under all that garb? Bridgid did what the woman asked, removed her clothing and washed. She handed Bridgid a long white cotton garment to put on and some light sandal-like shoes, a relief from the Corp issued Black Cadillacs that now seemed welded to her swollen feet.
"What's your name?" Bridgid asked the woman.
She hesitated, looked back at the door and answered in a whisper, "Tabarek."
"Tabarek," Bridgid repeated. "That is a beautiful name. My name is Bridgid."
"We must not speak, Bridgid. He is at the door. He will beat me."
Bridgid nodded to her. She did not want to
cause any pain to this woman.
Tabarek gathered the towel and basin and left the room. Bridgid heard the door
lock as she left and knew that Abu was guarding so she made the best of the
situation. Well, at least it did not smell, and there was no more screaming.
There was a bed, dresser, window. A window, a way out perhaps? At second look
there were bars on the outside of the portal, much like the ones you see in the
inner cities of the States. So much for that exit.
It was several hours before Bridgid heard the click of the lock. The Colonel entered the room with two guards.
"Please sit, we must talk now," he said as he motioned for her to sit on the bed. "I am Colonel Hamza Ali Jassim. I am here to extract information from you. As long as you cooperate with me you with be treated with civility, but if you refuse, things will be out of my hands. Do you understand, woman?"
"I understand, Colonel, but I have no information for you. I am just a soldier."
"You are an officer in the United States Marine Corp, woman," he said, fondling her dog tags that he still carried. "You must have some information. Give me something for my superiors or they will remove you from here and return you to the prison. Do you not understand I have brought you here to insure your safety?"
"I am Lieutenant Colonel Bridgid Morgan, USMC, ssn 105-23-3232. That is all I will tell you."
"That is all you will tell me, but not all you can tell me. I am sure of that. Things will become unpleasant again if you refuse to cooperate, but for now we will see to your needs. Your government has been contacted and we are awaiting their reply. For your sake, I hope it is a positive one. For now you will join me for dinner in one hour."
With that the Colonel left the room, once again locking the door and posting a guard.
Terry and Dino slipped through the Baghdad airport with ease, disguised as German businessmen. Both were fluent in German and Farsi, Terry with not indication of a foreign accent ,so he did most of the talking.
"State your business," the customs attendant demanded.
In one word Terry replied, "Oil."
They were allowed to pass. There was no suspicion of Germans in the war-torn Middle East at this time. The Germans were silent allies, and German businessmen were welcome guests. At least those brave enough not to fear the American bombing raids. They proceeded to the Palestine Hotel, which is closest to the oil ministry and would avoid suspicion. Two more men would be joining them in a few hours, Bedouins who were friends of Dino’s and allies to western causes. Dino knew they would be risking their lives to help them, and assured them of appropriate compensation, all the while keeping his fingers crossed that the CIA spook would produce something monetary. For now, Terry’s contact informed them that Bridgid had been moved from the prison to a certain ranking officer's residence. This was a surprise. Did this officer have some ulterior motive in doing this, or were they just trying to make her comfortable? Things would come to light soon. Terry was positive of that.
As their taxi carried them from the airport to the hotel it was hard not to notice the conflict in Baghdad. On one had you had bombed-out areas, complete buildings shattered and still smoldering. A block away there would be an opulent palace, belonging to Hussein or one of his relatives. The locals moved about as if nothing were going on. They were used to war. It was commonplace to them. Not at all like the sanitary conditions of the west where for the most part the only sign of it was what you saw on MSNBC, whatever they decided to air.
Terry and Dino checked into the hotel under their assumed German monikers. They were in adjoining rooms on the 7th floor of the Palestine, with a view of downtown Baghdad. For now they had to wait for the other men, and the waiting was excruciating for Terry. He thought of the last time he and Bridgid were together. How sweet her mouth tasted as her kisses sent shivers down his spine, the feel of touching her firm body, proud breasts, the curve of her back. He thought of what it felt like when she touched him, running her hands down his belly, teasing his manhood until he could barely stand it. He could have prevented this, he could have proposed to her, ended her career for sure, but then what? He would have left her alone while he pursued his own career just as he did with his first wife. His thoughts ran in hindsight, continuously reassuring himself that he did the right thing by letting her go. Could fate be returning her to him? Could fate be so cruel as to make him come this far to watch her die?
"Terry, what are you thinking?" Dino’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I'm thinking about how we're going to continue here, Dino. We have come this far without much of a plan and it's time we got down to brass tacks. If she is at this officer's house, it will make things more difficult now, won't it?"
"Yes, but it's not beyond us, amigo. Zafir and Ali will be here shortly and they know the area and the locals well. If they can come up with a floor plan of the house it will be of some help. All we have to do is find out where she is, what room they have her holed up in."
"Yeah, Dino, I have an idea. Tell me what you think. I'll go to the oil ministry in the morning, introduce myself as a purchaser from Berlin."
"Go on, Terry, this may have some legs......"
One of the guards led Bridgid from the room where she was kept, down the hallway, to a great room that had a large table set for dinner, dinner for two. She was seated on the right side of the head of the table, soon to be joined by the Colonel, who was in full military dress.
"You are privileged, Lieutenant Colonel Morgan. We do not allow our woman to dine with us like this, but under the circumstances there are exceptions."
"Not to be rude to my host, Colonel, but I hardly feel privileged under the circumstances, being held against my will and all, " Bridgid replied.
"Being allowed to speak so freely is something else our women are not permitted to do. However, your status as an officer in the military has allotted you some privilege. Do not abuse it, woman. You know the consequence."
"Since I don’t quite know what your intentions are, sir, the consequences may be better than what you have planned. Please enlighten me."
"You intrigue me, woman. There is something about you that I have been unable to put my finger on, but you do intrigue me. I have asked the Commandant to allow me to extract whatever I can from you by more humane ways than those which we would use against one of your male counterparts. My success with you will determine how we treat future female prisoners of war."
"I am trained no differently than my male counterparts, as you call them. I do not expect to be treated any differently than they would be, nor will I say anything different than they would. So you may as well return me to the prison now, Colonel."
"I should think you would be smarter than that. Most men would accept the hospitality as opposed to the harsh conditions in the jail. Have I asked you for anything yet?"
"I have already stated I have nothing to give you."
"We shall see, but for now, let me enjoy your company. I have had a pleasant meal prepared for us. I am sure you will find our food most palatable."
It was an interesting meal, for sure, starting with some kind of red lentil soup he called Adas, followed by a dish called Shamboorek, a kind of egg roll thing stuffed with lamb. The main course was a lemon chicken dish with bulgar and sheik mehshee, eggplant stuffed with more lamb, all served with a red wine, and tea. The meal ended with strong coffee and a rice pudding mixture with sesame cookies. Bridgid was in no mood to socialize with this man, but she was hungry. This was the first real food she'd seen since she left the ship. What harm would come of accepting a meal?
It was over the coffee that the colonel made his first advance.
"Your first name is Bridgid, is it not?" he queried.
"Yes, it is" she replied.
"May I call you by your first name, then? You and I, we are not enemies. It is our countries, our governments that are enemies."
"Yes, this is true ,Colonel, but do we both not represent our governments? After all you, too, are a military officer."
"For the sake of etiquette, then, let us pretend that we are not representing our respective governments. Let us pretend that we are two friends sharing a meal. Perhaps in some other country, like France, or even America.
"That is a stretch, Colonel, since a true Muslim as yourself would not allow a woman friend to speak as I speak."
"This shows how little you know, how ignorant your government has kept you. Our customs may be different, but our wives are respected members of the family. It is as important to them to keep their place as it is for you to keep yours in your society. For now you may address me as Jassim. That is my given name, and I will call you Bridgid."
"Would you be so kind to me if I were a man, Jassim?"
"To be honest, Bridgid, no. You would still be in the prison, and you would be tortured for information, or tortured just to torment your government. Consider yourself lucky that you have been born a woman."
"Forgive me, but I will add, lucky that I have been born a woman in a free country."
"Once again, Bridgid, I will not let your candor upset me. I understand your customs. I am just asking you to understand ours. For now, though, I am going to let you get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow. You may go to your room."
The guard escorted Bridgid back to the room where she was to stay. Tabarek was there waiting and scrambled to attention when the guard shoved Bridgid hard through the door, closing it behind her. Tabarek once again signaled her to disrobe and wash. She handed her a cotton night shirt and motioned for Bridgid to put it on.
"Tabarek, do you know what the Colonel has planned for me, why he is being so kind to me?" Bridgid asked.
"Shhh, silence, be quiet! The guard will not allow us to converse. But I must tell you, they have come for you. They will be here soon," she whispered.
"Who, who has come Tabarek? Tell me."
"No more talk. You will soon see."
Tabarek left the room, averting her eyes from the guard as she closed and locked the door behind her.
Bridgid was confused, first the confusion of her treatment. She did not dislike Jassim. Was she suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, so common with captives whose captors did not mistreat them, or did he find something special in her? Why was he protecting her? Then, who was coming for her, special forces, CIA, or her wingman even, Hammer? What was he thinking now? Soon she drifted off to a restless sleep.
The silence of her slumber was broken as she heard the click of the lock. Several armed guards entered the room roughly removing her from her prone position. She was forced to remove her clothing and redress in her flight suit and combat boots, each one of those bastards eyeballing her and smiling like dogs. One groped at her as he tied her hands behind her back. They were laughing and speaking in Farsi as she was blindfolded and pushed toward the door.
"It is time for you to serve our cause, Bridgid. I cannot prevent this, but you will be unharmed and returned latter this evening," Jassim said.
"Where are they taking me, Jassim?"
"You're going to be a television star, Bridgid. It's something that must be done."
The guards led her to a waiting vehicle and roughly shoved her to a seat. She heard Jassim talk to them in Farsi, his voice was terse and demanding as they crowded into the vehicle with her. The drove for about 10 minutes when the vehicle stopped and she was led into another foul-smelling building. It reeked of human waste and death she thought, as she was led blindly though the portal, banging off the doorframe. A small trickle of blood leaked from her nose now. The thin strips of material that bound her wrists cut into her flesh and the tight binding around her eyes caused pain in her temples. She was led to a room and forced to her knees. The men were still speaking in Farsi and she could not tell if they were speaking to her or to each other. Confusion and pain caused fear to well up in her mind as she fought to maintain her composure. Don’t let them see fear, she thought to herself.
As she remained there on her knees, held down at the shoulders by the faceless captors, she could feel the flat edge of a cold steel blade being placed against her throat. My God, they are going to kill me! she thought as one man began yelling at her in English.
"What is your name, infidel?"
Lieutenant Colonel Bridgid Morgan USMC," she replied, her fear now becoming evident.
"Why are you here?" he demanded.
She did not answer. She just repeated her name. The man withdrew the blade from her throat and struck her on the back of the head with the hilt of the weapon. Bridgid fell forward face first onto the concrete floor, cutting a cheek and causing more blood to gush from her nose. She was abruptly returned to her knees by the men at her shoulders as she struggled to breathe and longed to wipe the blood from her face.
What was not evident to Bridgid was that they were filming her ordeal. A piece of film that was sure to be turned over to Al Jazzera so the AP could pick it up and forward it to the American government. A ditch effort by her captors to use her life as a tool to convince the infidels to cease and desist their operations in the Middle East. Bridgid was unaware of the filming but she sensed her death was imminent.
This went on for several hours before Bridgid was gathered up to be returned to the Colonel’s residence. She was bruised and bleeding, but not dead. Relief joined her fear as they pushed her into the vehicle and drove her back.
"What have you animals done to her?" the colonel barked as she was dragged through the door.
One man answered in English. "Remember what she is, Colonel. She is infidel, she has dropped bombs on our people. If you fail to do your duty, sir, other arrangements will be made here."
"Of course," he replied as he called for Tabarek. "Take her to her room, clean her up, make her as comfortable as you can," he ordered as he removed the bindings from her hands and untied the blindfold.
"Bridgid said nothing as she followed Tabarek to her room. She could hear the Colonel exchanging angry words with the men as they left his residence. She did not understand Farsi, but she could understand the tone of voice. She sensed he was not going to be able to protect her much longer. She thought of Tabarek’s words about someone coming for her, hoping it would not be too late. These men were volatile and she was a mere pawn to them, a bargaining unit with no other value.
Bridgid felt very weak as Tabarek washed the blood from her face. She helped her remove the now tattered flight suit and replaced it with a clean cotton dress. "Listen to me now. The man coming for you is named Terry Thorne. I will let you know what you have to do when the time comes. Do not speak, just listen." Tabarek’s voice was a mere whisper as she told Bridgid what was planned. Bridgid’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Terry’s name. "You rest now. Soon there will be no time for such a luxury. This will not be easy," Tabarek warned as she picked up her kit and left the room.
Bridgid could not rest. She lay there thinking of Terry. How could he risk his life for this? God, she still loved him but could not fathom him risking so much to extract her from this Godforsaken shithole of a country. Still there was no better man for the job. Her thoughts drifted from this to the last time she was with Terry. The thought of his caress eased the pain that was remnant from her earlier ordeal.. His face in her dreams was respite as she conjured the last time they made love. Everything came to her, his touch, his smell, his talent, the depth of blue in his eyes. For a few moments she was away from her hell, far away, at his flat in London, where they spent their last leave together barely leaving the bedroom for two days. There would be no rekindling necessary with Terry because the flames of passion she felt for him never waned. Bridgid knew he felt the same about her. Why else would he be here? The thought of seeing him, the thought of her liberation from her captives renewed her hopes of survival. She must remain cool, keep her solemn demeanor, so as not to raise any suspicion in the Colonel’s eyes.
The German man with his Arab guide knocked on the front door of the Colonel’s residence. He was tall and broad, with hair slicked back, wearing strange wire-framed glasses. He carried a briefcase in one hand and an uncharacteristic looking desert hat in the other. The guide was gruff looking, unshaven, wearing traditional Arab garb, loose-fitting cotton breeches with a long cotton overshirt, white in color with a light tan stripe woven in. His headgear was that of a commoner.
He spoke in English with a heavy German accent. "I am Herr Reinholtz, the Oil Ministry sent me to you. Here are my papers. I was told you could offer me a tour of the area unmolested, that you would offer some protection from local guards."
The Colonel took the papers and eyed the man and his guide with some reservation. Terry kept his cool and smiled broadly at the colonel as he clicked his heels and bowed with the traditional German gesture of respect.
"This is not a good time, Herr Reinholtz, but if the ministry commands then I shall accommodate you. Please come in."
"I am sorry for the intrusion, sir. However my limited time in Iraq does not leave much of a window for such things. Your government is anxious for our transactions to be completed." Terry entered the house, leaving his guide just inside the door.
They talked for some time as Terry glanced at his watch. Dino would be executing a diversion shortly, hopefully emptying the house of most of the guards along with Colonel. This would allow him and his cohort to search the house for Bridgid. Maybe the escape would be an easy one, but he did not get his hopes up. He ran the contents of his briefcase through his mind, a 9mm with 2 full magazines, sufficient cash to pay the Bedouin nomads who were to secure their escape through the desert and across the Saudi border, and a small package tucked neatly away from the harshness of the rest, a modest amethyst ring, meant for Bridgid.
"It is getting late, Herr Reinholtz, and we have a curfew as you know by now. Can I offer you an escort back to your hotel? We can conduct the refinery tour in the morning."
Terry nodded as he thought to himself, Come on, Dino. Now!
At that moment the silence was shattered as a loud explosion ripped through a courtyard at the rear of the house. Glass shattered and guards rushed around like cockroaches.
"Wait here, Herr Reinholtz. Do not move and you will be safe here," the Colonel said as he unholstered his weapon and headed toward the explosion. Terry waited for him to exit the room, removed his 9mm from the case and waved to the escort to follow him. He turned the corner of the hall, checking each door. All were open, each room empty. As he rounded the last corner of the great hallway, he was met eye to eye by the guard who was posted at Bridgid’s door. The guard raised his weapon, but before he could fire a shot, he was dropped by a bullet that came from behind. The escort’s gun still smoking, he smiled at Terry as they attempted to gain entry. First twisting the handle, and then kicking at it franticly as time was running short.
Bridgid cowered away from the door, pressing herself up against the back wall of the room. There was confusion, and a lot of smoke from the explosion that shattered the window of the small room. She drew away at first touch, but then she recognized him. "My God, Terry!" He wrapped his arms around her and held tight for a moment as relief overcame her fear. He didn't want to let her go, but they had to run.
"Can you travel ok, Bridgid?" he asked.
"Yes, let's get out of here, Terry."
He took her hand and the escort led them out the door, first stopping to check the hall, and then backtracking the same way they came. Terry had a tight grip on her hand. The visibility from the smoke was worsening, and he was not ever going to lose her again. Bridgid slowed him a bit as she lifted the weapon from the hands of the dead Iraqi in the hallway. An M-16, her weapon of choice. She stumbled into him as Terry jerked her hand forward, urging her to pick up the pace. As they came to the entrance to the foyer, they were met with an entourage of guards, Terry pushed Bridgid back against the wall, but the Marine in her prevailed as she lowed the M-16. In 3 shot bursts she mowed the 5 of them down with ease. Terry turned to her, smiling, and said "I'm glad we're on the same side, mate."
As they exited through the front door of the house, a single shot dropped the escort dead. Terry once again covered Bridgid with his body. The Colonel stood in front of them, holding the pistol that had been in his holster.
"He was a traitor," the colonel said above the confusion. "He deserved to die. Now you go. Go fast, before anyone finds out you have escaped."
He handed the dog tags back to Bridged as she passed. "You were never here, Bridgid. Do you understand me now?"
Bridgid took the tags as she passed by him.
Terry took Bridgid's hand, his eyes never leaving the Colonel's and he led her
toward the waiting SUV in the alley. As they entered the vehicle a single shot
rang out.
Bridgid thought the Colonel must have taken his own life for fear of retribution
from her escape. She felt a bit guilty at that moment, but there was no time to
dwell. The SUV had emerged from the haze as Dino shouted, "Hurry up guys! Things
are gonna get louder soon."
"Well, you must be the infamous Bridgid. I’m Dino, partner in crime," he grinned as the pair rushed into the vehicle.
"Dino, thank you, both of you. I don’t know how to thank you."
This brief moment of peace allowed for Terry and Bridged to finally show their emotion as he circled her with his arms and kissed her passionately. She returned his kiss with a hunger.
"My God, Terry, whatever possessed you to take this risk?" she said between his kisses.
"I love you, Bridgid. Always have and always will."
"No time for amore now, amigos. It's gonna get dark soon. We'll have to go the rest of the way on foot to avoid the curfew patrols," Dino said as he drove the suv into an alley, without lights, to conceal it. It was a miracle that they ever slipped through the confusion of the diversion that he created.
The three of them exited the vehicle at a run as Dino led them toward the outskirts of the city where the Nomads were waiting. The Bedouin Nomads would lead them to the Saudi border, four days trek by caravan if left undetected.
They would meet up with the caravan late into the night. The plan was to head south to the 32nd parallel and then head due west to the Saudi border, stopping for the next day at An Nukhayb, an oasis at the midway point between Karbala and Ar’ar, a safe point just over the border. They would begin travel as soon as they made contact with the Bedouins. The cool and darkness of night would give some insurance against detection by the Republican Guard, or Taliban rebels, both of whom would revel in the capture of these three.
A full moon provided just enough light for travel yet maintained enough cover for anonymity. Terry and Dino exchanged their western clothing for traditional Bedouin cottons and headgear. Bridgid was given similar garb with a cover for her face so as not to offend their Arab hosts. She leaned back against the safety of Terry’s body as they rode on camels toward their destination. Freedom and security, that’s what she felt as she drifted off to sleep against his body. The gentle rocking of the camel’s ungainly gait lulled her weariness as Terry’s arms circled her body and gripped onto the single rope leading to the beasts head. They rode for 6 hours.
"Wake up, honey, we're here," Terry said as he loosened his grip on her. The sun
was just peering over the eastern horizon as they approached the secluded oasis
of Nukhayb. The Bedouins had already begun pitching their colorful caravan tents
and were leading the camels to the watering hole as Bridgid and Terry slid from
their camel’s back. They walked briskly toward the spring-fed pool, shaded by
huge date palms, allowing their lack of desert knowledge to show evident as all
three of them entered the water and drank heavily, washing their faces and hair.
The three of them laughed and splashed each other playfully, enjoying the first
moments of fearless joy.
"This may be short-lived, Terry. They will be searching for us, and I'm sure every oasis will be a checkpoint. We'll have to be on guard," Dino said.
"You're right, mate, but I think they may expect us to have headed north into Turkey, or due west into Jordan. For now I think we're safe."
The nomadic men brought Dino, Terry and Bridgid to a large tent where they were to stay for the day. It was quite inviting with pillows and a fine Persian rug lining the floor. They were offered trays of dates and a pot of tea with warm camel's milk and honey. All three enjoyed the meal as they escaped from the hot noon day sun in the canvas abode.
"We better get some sleep now. We will be traveling all night again," Dino said.
He retreated to the corner of the tent and gathered a pillow to support his neck against the firm sand under the rug. Bridgid looked up at Terry and caught him gazing at her, marveling at how fine she looked in the flowing Arab garb. He pulled her close to him as they both lay back on the Berber pillows that were strewn about.
"I think we are alone now, Bridgid. Dino is fast asleep," Terry chuckled.
Bridgid looked back at Dino, who was now snoring contently on the other side of the tent. She smiled and turned her face again toward Terry. He kissed her passionately, brushing the headdress from her hair. Her thoughts of Dino in the corner soon disappeared as she was consumed by his touch. Terry gathered up a large, striped cotton coverlet that was left for them and concealed them both as he hastily removed the light clothing he was wearing. Bridgid sat up momentarily to slide the cotton dress over her head. As she did, she caught Dino looking at her. All she could do was smile at him. He smiled back as she returned to Terry’s arms. There was no going back now. Their lust exceeded any hint of inhibition regarding the voyeur at the other side of the tent. Terry turned Bridgid to her back as he kissed her mouth, searching every corner of it with his tongue. He held her hands out and above her head as he diverted his kisses to her neck, down to her shoulder, across her chest first suckling a nipple, tensing at the feeling of it hardening under the caress of his lips, stopping to gently kiss the bruises still evident from her ordeal. He licked his way across her breasts, nipping at the other nipple, pulling it with his teeth, giving it ample opportunity to reach the peak of the first. As he slid down her belly, teasing her navel, he softly drew his hands from her wrists, sliding them down her inner arms, tickling her, raising tiny little bumps of pleasure from the tops of her feet to the inner warmth of her core. Terry slid down between her legs as she willingly parted them in anticipation of what he was to offer.
Dino turned away. He knew this one was special. Terry loved her. Dino could do nothing but listen to their passion and wish for his own. He had no recourse but to lie still and silent in his corner, allowing his friend privacy, no mater how false it was. Dino tried to sleep but could not help listening, touching himself in unison with the sounds he could hear coming from the two entwined lovers. He enjoyed their coupling almost as much as they did.
Terry was lying prone between Bridgid's legs
as he began kissing the inner part of her thigh. Licking and kissing, teasing
that spot where her legs joined together, nuzzling at her bush. He was savoring
that moment, barely brushing his lips over her tender areas. Thinking often of
her warm inviting body while they were apart, he wanted to relish every second
of this reunion. Whispering her name over and over again, "Mmm, Bridgid, I have
missed you so much," he said as he gently spread her lips as he entered her with
his tongue. She purred back at him as he buried his face in her, withdrawing to
circle her now hard pearl with his warm mouth. He spread her legs a little
further and pushed his fingers inside of her, never losing contact with her
pulsing spot. She arched toward him, moaning with pleasure, erotically stroking
the hard peaks of her own nipples .
Terry enjoyed watching her as he increased his rhythm, stroking her and licking
at her excited little button. He sensed the rising passion in Bridgid as
he pursed his lips, sucking hard. She fought her climax, wanting to prolong this
moment for as long as possible, but the excitement of being with her lover again
overcame her resistance. She felt light, lifted up from the ground, arching her
back toward him again as she quivered and squealed with delight.
They were no longer concealed under the cover, nor did they care. Warm waves of
pleasure engulfed her now, as she locked her legs tightly around his body. He
continued to tease with his tongue, withdrawing his fingers from her, then once
again covering her bud with his lips as he slowly slid his fingers back inside
of her, gently this time, coaxing her sensitive pulsing body to a second
pinnacle. She came again, fast and hard this time, crying out in ecstasy.
Terry did not give her time to recover. He wanted to feel the silky warm pulsing
of her wrapped around his throbbing phallus. Eyes open , he entered her,
slowly. The still existent spasm of her climax sucked at him as he paused
savoring her wetness. God, I could come right now, he thought as he began
slowly stroking, still watching her as she breathed in unison with him, sucking
him in, exhaling him out, gazing back at him.
As he lowered his body , entering her more deeply, he found her mouth with his,
kissing her hard. Tasting her own sex on his lips was titillating. The passion
that rose as she wrapped her legs around him tighter was overwhelming and he
almost came again when she squeezed her well-trained muscles around his cock.
Regaining control, he rocked his body slowly and rhythmically, still kissing her
as she picked up his tempo, returning equal thrusts back to him. His gentle
stroking soon became more determined. Entering and withdrawing the length of his
manhood, he reveled in the breathy moans of ecstasy that came from her. Terry
closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as waves of excitement began to overtake
him. She could feel his cock harden even more as he called her name.
"My God, Bridgid!" he exclaimed almost breathless, giving in to his impending
climax. He withdrew and plunged again and again, bringing Bridgid to the brink
of yet another wave of delirium, She wrapped her heels tight around his firm
ass, pulling him deeper and deeper into the cut. The pitch of his throaty
seductive moans lowered as he whispered her name once again, "Bridgid." Terry
arched back, drawing a breath, pausing for a split second, then with several
short hard thrusts his body tensed and quivered as he released a hot stream of
love deep into her core. He collapsed onto her chest, both of them bathed in
sweat, exhausted.
"Terry, I don't want to exist without you anymore, my love," she said, looking
into his deep blue eyes.
"I am here for you now," Terry replied, kissing her passionately one last time
before they both surrendered to sleep.
Bridgid awoke alone in the tent. Both Terry and Dino were gone. She felt guilty, but found it necessary to wash up with what little water was left for her in the tent. She could hear Dino and Terry talking outside, in Farsi. As she exited the tent she could see they were talking to the Bedouin leader of the caravan.
"What’s going on, Terry?" Bridgid queried.
"It seems we're being followed, Bridge. The Bedouin scouts spotted a convoy of Iraqi soldiers just a few clicks behind us. We have to move fast, maybe change course."
"We can’t change course, Tio!" Dino chimed in. "The extraction team will never find us. We have a deadline to meet. We have to be there or they'll leave. It's too risky for them to hang around in enemy territory waiting for us to get done fiddle fucking around."
"Well, there's no point in an extraction team if we're dead, Dino!" Terry replied. "Whatever the case, we have to get moving now, afternoon heat or not!"
The Bedouins were packed up and ready to leave in what seemed like five minutes flat. As the caravan moved out in the late afternoon sun, it proved to be quite arduous, indeed. Bridgid found herself less willing to lean back against Terry’s body heat. The desert sun caused fatigue to quicken its normal pace. Against Dino’s wishes they continued their westbound trek along the 32nd parallel toward the Saudi border. Dino could only hope they remained out of the clutches of the Iraqis long enough for the extraction team to pick them up. He knew they had at least a day's travel before they came in range of the choppers from Saudi air space. Soon they would be making a south southwestward turn toward Ar’ar and he kept his fingers crossed that they'd be found without a fight.
His wishes were soon dashed as the first mortar shell landed just behind him, toppling several of the nomads to the rear of the caravan. The panic that ensued sent Terry and Bridgid forward as Dino cut to the left. The entire caravan went in different directions as the warriors of the tribe turned in a futile effort to fend off the incoming assault from the Iraqis. Mortars and bullets hailed down upon the group as Terry and Bridgid were hurled from the camel they were riding. It lay gasping as Terry pulled Bridgid into its body, a feeble attempt at cover from the storm of war raining down upon them. Dino crested a dune, his sidearm drawn as he turned to see his friends' plight. At that moment the rumble of incoming Yank Cobra attack helicopters overtook the sound of mortar and machine gun fire. The Cobras were swift and efficient at destroying the Iraqi assailants. They unleashed their hellfire missiles without mercy and pummeled the attackers, allowing none to flee as they finished the job with the forward-mounted Gatling guns that made this bird so famous. Dino stood and cheered as they passed overhead. He knew they were going to make it!
"OOHHRRAAHH!" Bridgid yelled, now standing from the safety of the camel's dead body. Terry stood by, holding her. "Your cavalry is here, Bridgid!" he said joyfully.
The Bedouins were equally as happy, cheering the Yanks on. Their losses were severe but their lives for the most part were spared. They knew they would be paid handsomely for aiding in the rescue of the Yank woman, and camels can be replaced. They would, however, mourn the loss of two of their finest young men. As the artillery cleared, Dino descended the dune to meet his friend. He and Terry embraced. Turning to pull Bridgid toward him, Dino kissed her, too.
"I guess that is the least I owe you, Dino," Bridgid said, smiling broadly.
"That was fun, guys, don’t you think?" Dino said, laughing.
As the dust cleared the CH-53 super stallion choppers landed to extract the survivors from the desert floor. They were still in enemy territory and there was no time to waste. Bridgid, Terry and Dino thanked the Bedouins and Dino paid them what he promised and then some. They had already pillaged the dead Iraqi convoy for weapons and supplies and were quite content with their gain. The Marines would not allow Bridgid to ride back with Terry and Dino, something about debriefing they told her. As Terry and Dino were led to the first chopper, Bridgid grabbed Terry.
"See you in Riyadh, Terry."
He kissed her, pushing the small amethyst right into her hand."
"What’s this?" she asked, eyeing it curiously.
"It’s a promise, Bridgid. It's a promise that wherever you are I will always find you."
Bridgid kissed him again, holding him as tightly as she could then she leaned back, removing the dog tags from her neck and placing them in Terry’s hand.
"This is my promise, Terry, my promise to never be lost from you again. I love you, Terry."
"I love you, Bridgid."
"And we both love you, Dino!" they said with a laugh, pulling him into their embrace.
As the MP’s came to take Bridgid away, she could not help but turn and run back to her friends for one more embrace. The MP’s turned to grab her as the Marine commander stopped them.
"Let her go for a minute, boys," he said.
She kissed Dino, allowing him some liberty, and then turned, kissing Terry.
"Not good-bye, Terry, see you soon," she said, turning and leaving with the two Marine MP’s. She could not look back, knowing she wouldn't see him for quite some time. The Corp would not allow it. The Corp was about to give her six months of debriefing hell.
Nearly a year later Bridgid was returned to her home in Cherry Point, North
Carolina. She had not been in contact with Terry or Dino since. She often
thought of them, wondering what they had gotten themselves up to, wondering what
adventures they were on. The government told her she could not contact them for
"security reasons", as they put it. After the debriefing, she was cleared of any
wrong doing in losing her plane over Baghdad and returned to duty with full
honors. They also informed her Jassim was an American agent, who had given his
life to assure her safety. That fact caused some grief to her, remembering the
kindness that he offered during her captivity. Bridgid received a few medals, a
promotion, and got her wings back, but none of it replaced the loss she felt for
Terry. Bridgid just figured for now she would go drown her sorrows at the
officers' club that evening. What the hell, she had a 96er, long weekend off,
might as well spend it drunk and disorderly. No pogs or JAG at the club, just
the comfort of her fellow air wing Marines. She entered the bar where the rest
of her squadron had already started their long weekend.
"Hey, Colonel Morgan!" Sergeant Major Woodmancy said as she entered the bar.
"What's going on, Sergeant Major? You started without me?" she queried, tossing a squadron challenge coin on the bar. "Guess you're gonna be buying tonight, Sergeant Major, at least the brown baggers aren‘t here to eat up your paycheck!"
Suddenly a voice from behind said....
"I’ll buy."
She was speechless as she turned, looking into those familiar eyes.
"Oh, yeah." the sergeant major said, excusing his impoliteness. "This is Major Jack Thompson, Royal Air Force. He's here on an officer exchange program. They are thinking of adopting our OSPREY into their ranks, much as we did their Harrier."
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel Morgan," Major Thompson said, taking her left hand and kissing the amethyst ring on it. "I heard you were lost for a while. I'm happy to see that you have been found...again"
The End
Marine Corp stuff:
Marine Jargon__________________Civilian Meaning
1.) Head aka "Latrine"...................................Restroom
2.) Necktie.................................................Scarf
3.) Moon floss........................................Toilet Paper
Ass
Gasket..................................Toilet Seat Cover
4.) Round..................................................Bullet
5.) Ka-Bar..................................Marine Fighting Knife
6.) Deck....................................................Floor
7.) Black Cadillacs..................................Combat Boots
8.) Cannon Cocker........................................Artillery
9.) Ink Stick...........................................Black Pen
10.) The Rock.............................................Okinawa
11.) Brown Bagger...................................Married Marine
12.) Lima Delta...........................Light Duty or Limp dick
13.) Cover....................................................Hat
14.) Ham n' Choke Loaf...................Ham and Chicken Loaf/MRE
15.) Particle Board............................Oatmeal Cookie/MRE
16.) Racing Spoon..............................Brown Spoon in MRE
17.) Prick 77..................................PRC-77 Field Radio
18.) Bulkhead................................................Wall
19.) Port....................................................Left
20.) Starboard..............................................Right
21.) Squid.................................Any Sailor in the Navy
22.) Float.....................................Deployment by ship
23.) CQB....................................Close Quarters Battle
24.) Marine Corp Bible.............................Marine BST/EST
25.) Sick-Bay/BAS.............................Hospital/Dispensary
26.) Topside.............................................Upstairs
27.) Turn To....................................Get Started/Begin
28.) Swab.....................................................Mop
29.) Secure..................................Stop/Finish/Put away
30.) Belay..........................Make Fast/Secure or disregard
31.) As You Were...........................Resume Former Activity
32.) Below.............................................Downstairs
33.) Carry On................................Resume Previous Duty
34.) Hatch...........................................Door/Doorway
35.) Police.........................................Straighten up
36.) Pogs...........................................Admin Marines
37.) Field Day...................................Barracks Cleanup
38.) Liberty (R&R).............................Rest and Relaxation
39.) Chit..................................Receipt/Piece of Paper
40.) Geedunk............Place on ship where candy/smokes/soda are
BACK TO LIBRISCROWE
LINK TO "QUI OSE GAGNE", ANOTHER TERRY/BRIDGID STORY