Butch and Sundance Ride Again – 15

? Local_ ? Zulu
ISIS held village
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan

Their moment of silence was interrupted by the thunderous whupping of rotors as two Ospreys and a Sea Stallion Pave Low settled down near them.

With sand being whipped up all around them, James Hawkins put his hand on the Iraqi Major's shoulder to get his attention. "We can never repay you for your help…and what it has cost you," The Colonel said, his voice fighting to be heard above the rotor noise.

Khalil turned and stood. With tears still showing in his eyes, he nodded. "But Aban was right, it was worth the cost, Colonel." He looked at the four Cobra crewmen. "And with Jesus' and Allah's help, you'll get them home."

Staff Sergeant Calapango and Master Gunnery Sergeant Dallas ran up to the Marine Colonel. One of the Ospreys during the fighting must have picked up the Master Guns and the snipers.

"We gotta go, sir!" Dallas said to the TRAP CO. "Those Jihadis might be back at any moment!"

James Hawkins nodded. The situation was still very tenuous. "Mount up, men, let's go! Double time!"

Captain Endwood shook Khalil's hand before he joined the Marines headed to one of the Ospreys and Mattie hugged him.

"Be safe, Major," Mattie said to him.

Khalil smiled at the young helo pilot. "I will, Lieutenant Rabb. Say hello to your father and mother for me, will you?"

Mattie nodded and then turned and ran for the waiting Osprey along with Lieutenants Presser and Pescal.

Zack Fullerton came up behind Khalil and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry about Aban, Khalil. If we had just been a little faster-"

Major T'lass turned and smiled at the former LAV NCO. "He fought the good fight, Gunny. He is now at peace, but our war continues."

They turned and watched the three big helos lift off. The crews of TF Dawn and the Iraqi 9th Armored 'Desert Lions' waved at the receding helos escorted by the Cobra gunships as they turned and headed southwest.

Khalil looked at Gunny Fullerton, "It is time for us to leave as well. The Daesh will come back with a vengeance soon enough."

"Everyone mount up!" Zack barked. Men and women began scrambling to get aboard their vehicles. As they did, Zack looked back at the Aban's still burning carrier and then back at the Iraqi Major.

"What about Aban's men?" Zack asked his friend.

As if in answer to this question, a BMP flying an Iraqi standard rolled up to them. Khalid, Aban's gunner, stuck his head out of the turret hatch.

"The Daesh abandoned it when they fled—it is just like our old one. The Major will be so proud."

"Indeed he will, Khalid," Khalil said nodding.

The young gunner looked around. "Where is he-" He stopped when he saw the shrouded body lying on the ground.

"We have to take him back with us, Khalid. You're in charge now, Lieutenant/Dabit, do you understand?"

Khalid had just made the jump from Sergeant to 2nd Lieutenant. He nodded solemnly, understanding the full weight of what he was being told. "Yes Major/Aywa Ra'id." Sergeant Ghazi had just exited the back of the idling carrier and was looking at the shroud with the rest of the squad.

"Sergeant/Ra'is, get the Major/Ra'id on board. We will not leave him behind."

Ghazi nodded. "At once, Lieutenant/Dabit." He signaled his squad to join him.

The Sergeant and his men ran over and picked up Aban's body and brought it back to the carrier, laying it down gently in the rear compartment. Two soldiers stayed inside with Aban while the Sergeant and the rest of the squad climbed on the engine deck of the BMP.

Lieutenant/Dabit Khalid al Bazz saluted the Major and the Gunnery Sergeant as they drove past, headed for Hill 237.

Khalil's T-72 drove up next, followed by the Gunny's BTR. Khalil climbed aboard his tank and Zack mounted his carrier. In a few moments they joined Senior Chief Gifford's HMMWV and Chief Vickers' BRDM-2 as they headed back to Hill 237 and toward the Kurdish front lines.

?Local_? Zulu
Holding Area Minnesota
South of Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan

Harm and Mac had just arrived and Mac had finished her preliminary check of the damage inflicted by ISIS gunfire on their Super Hornet.

"How does it look, Mac?" he asked. The Navy Flag Officer didn't want to sound anxious, but he still needed to know just in case it affected their ability to get back to the carrier.

Hours seemed to go by before she reported. "Thank God it looks worse than it actually is. All superficial, Harm," she finally said. Harm could tell she was relieved.

The One Star SJA couldn't hear it because the DJAG had pulled his mask away from his face, but he too slowly breathed a sigh of relief. One plane going down over ISIS territory was bad enough.

As they flew closer to the tankers, Harm could see that Lobo Flight One was in the process of refueling.

1st Lieutenant Neal Yelland was euphoric. "Lobo 4 to Lobo 20! We just heard from Major Crain! Bravo Zulu Admiral! That was some damn fancy shooting!"

Harm couldn't help but smile at the Lieutenant's effusive praise. "Thank you, Lobo Four. Did the Major say that Ghost Rider flight was outbound?"

His query was answered by the voice of Captain Mike Evans. "On your Six, Lobo Two Zero! Thanks for getting us off the hot seat!"

Both Mac and Harm turned to see the two Ospreys and one Pavelow III MH-53 Sea Stallion making their way toward them.

"Is everyone okay?" the One Star SJA asked the pilot of Ghost Rider Three.

We're all good, ma'am, Captain Evans replied, "and I have someone here who'd like to say something to you…standby…."

The radio mike clicked for a moment before a female voice was heard on other end. "Hey 'Mom', hey 'Dad'."

"You scared the bejeezuss out of us, Matilda Grace Rabb," Harm said with mock anger and more than a little relief.

"Yeah, me too, Dad," she replied, sounding both relieved and exhausted.

"Are you okay, Mattie?" Mac asked with a note of concern. She could always tell when Mattie had something troubling her even though it didn't show in her face or the tone of her voice. Mac seemed to have sixth sense about these things.

'Aban Hammadi was killed helping rescue us, Dad," she said in a flat voice. "I know he was a friend of yours…and Mom's."

Harm flashed a look of regret to his 'Gal in Back'. Aban had been a good friend to both of them.

"Anyone else?" Mac asked for both of them. She could tell her husband was still processing this news, so she decided to take up the unpleasant task to learning about the casualties.

"No, Mom, not that we know of. Everyone else got out okay." Her red haired adopted daughter paused for a moment. " Mom, Captain Endwood would like to speak to you and Dad."

The mike clicked again. "General MacKenzie, Admiral Rabb."

"Captain," Harm managed to say after clearing his throat.

"Sir, ma'am, you should be very proud of your daughter. Not only did she manage to crash land intact and without injury to herself or Lieutenant Pescal, but she was also willing to sacrifice herself for my WSO, Lieutenant Presser. Fortunately thanks to you, she didn't have to do that."

"She's a pilot and a Marine, Captain, I would have expected nothing less," the Admiral said trying to sound impartial. Mac reached over and smacked his helmet, which earned her a dirty look.

Jordan Endwood continued undeterred, not being able to see the interplay between the two flag officers. "Yes sir, still, you should be very proud of her. After what she did today…well, let's just say I'm glad she's my executive officer. I wouldn't have anyone else."

Mac was warmed by the Captain's praise. She rarely let such a compliment have an effect on her, but for some reason tears trailed down her face. She tried hard not to sniffle. Generals don't sniffle. "Glad to hear it, Captain. By the way, based on the fact that both you and Lieutenant Presser came out of this unscathed, you were able to crash land intact as well."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry we had to combat loss the helos."

"Helos can be replaced, Captain, good helo crews can't. Good job bringing your crews back," the DJAG replied knowingly.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

Harm could tell that the helo Captain had turned from the mike for a moment, and then he was back. "Sir, Colonel Hawkins would like to speak to both of you as well."

The mike clicked one more time. "General, Admiral." 'Young Jim' Hawkins didn't sound so young anymore. It was hard for Harm to believe this was the same 'wet behind the ears' 2nd Lieutenant they had met in Mirbullah so long ago during the Lieutenant Dodge murder investigation.

"Jim, is it true? Did Commander May help with your rescue operation?" Mac asked. She had often wondered what had happened to Rachel and Brad after they left the service in 2010.

The TRAP CO clarified the situation for her. "Not him directly, ma'am, but Khalil, Rafiq, Senior Chief Gifford, Chief Vickers and Gunnery Sergeant Fullerton and their crews did, though."

"That includes most of the folks we knew from Rat Patrol and Shark 2, right Jim?" Harm added.

"Yes, sir, that is, those that are no longer active duty. They are working with the Peshmerga. If it hadn't been for them, I doubt we would have been able to rescue Roote and Morrill, not to mention the helo crews and your daughter."

Mac closed her eyes and sighed. They had come very close to losing Mattie today. "How did Aban die?" she finally asked.

Now was Colonel Hawkins's turn to sigh. "He took on an ISIS tank with his carrier, ma'am. If it hadn't been for him, we wouldn't be speaking right now. He was mortally injured in the firefight, but got his crew to safety."

Harm and Mac shared a sad look. They would miss Aban. "Are they still in the village, Jim?"

"I doubt it, sir. They probably retreated to the foothills of Mount Sinjar. ISIS still holds that village and will probably be sending in reinforcements soon."

? Local_ ? Zulu
Over the ISIS held village
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan

Aqid Hazami's troops were still in the village but they weren't exactly in charge anymore.

Trapped was a better word to describe their situation.

Anytime any ISIS armored vehicle or pickup truck or technical attempted to move, Major Crain's F-18s or the Marine F-35's would swoop down on them like hungry eagles. Shattered burning ISIS armor and bomb-blasted technicals were strewn throughout the village and on the hillsides just outside the community.

As the Major pulled back up for another pass, he listened to his pilots on flight's radio net.

'Here's a post for LookBook, courtesy of the U.S. Navy!'

'Hey ISIS, Chirp this!'

It was obvious that his pilots were taking out their pent up frustrations on this ISIS armored formation. Oh well, in a way it was the Jihadis' fault. If they hadn't tried to kill those helo pilots on international television, maybe he could have reined them in.

Aw, who was he kidding?

The Commander of Lobo Flight Two looked down at the burning wreckage. It looked like the mighty armed forces of ISIS were going to be a bit smaller after this. He was about to dive on another fleeing technical when his radio crackled.

"Sir, this is Lobo 9, I've got four Strike Eagles approaching fast from my four o'clock."

Lieutenant, j.g. Todd 'Rocket Man' Wilders had been elected to be the 'tail-end-johnny' or rear guard for the group in case any Iranians came snooping around. But Strike Eagles weren't in the Iranian inventory

"Lobo 9, this Lobo 12. What did IFF say? Israeli?"

"No, sir. Saudi. Their flight leader has just been in contact with me and wants to talk to you."

"Patch'em through, Rocket Man."

"Copy, Big Kahuna. Here he is."

The Major heard a clipped English voice in his headset. "American Hornet flight leader, this is Khanjar Leader, Ra'id/Major al Khalifa, of the Royal Saudi Air Force. The word is these are the Daesh that were going to burn your helo pilots, yes?"

Albert Crain smiled at the question and the chance to try the Arabic he was learning. "Aywa, Ra'id al Khalifa."

The Major heard a friendly chuckle. "Then allow us the honor, of, how you say, ah yes, closing the door, on their escape."

"By all means, Khanjar Leader. Feel free to slam shut any open windows or doors. We don't want them catching a draft," Big Kahuna said with his tongue firmly planted in cheek. His WSO gave him a wicked smile for that one.

"The only draft they will feel," Ra'id al Khalifa said fiercely, "My American friend, is the breath of the fires where the Djinn drag them down to."

Crain listened as the flight leader left his radio mike open. In rapid fire Arabic, the Major issued his orders and the four F-15E Strike Eagles nosed over and began to dive on several speeding technicals that were trying to escape the carnage.

? Local_?Zulu
Location Unknown
Irbil, Kurdistan

Commander Brad May was sitting in his wheelchair watching the displays on his various video screens. It had been a hell of a day. The drone he had sent out earlier was now flying over Gunny Fullerton and Senior Chief Gifford's group. They had been joined by what was left of the Iraqi 9th Armored.

"I heard Aban had been killed."

Brad didn't turn when he heard the voice. "Don't you ever knock, Mr. Webb?"

"Where would be the fun in that?" Clayton Webb asked as he walked into operations center that he had helped Brad, Luisa, and Andrew build. "At least I'm not coming to you as Lieutenant Abby Cowen."

This time Brad did laugh.

Clayton walked over to Brad and put his hand on his shoulder. "I really am sorry about Aban, Brad."

The former SEAL looked up at him and sighed. "Yeah, I know you are. Sorry about being short with you."

"Say no more," Clay said as he pulled up a chair.

"How did you hear about Aban?"

"The CIA had its drones out observing what was going on."

Brad gave him a sideways look. "I thought you left the Company."

Clay shook his head. "You never really retire, Brad, you know that. I'm just doing my part to help the Iraqi Army as specified by my President."

Brad snorted at that comment. "If they knew how much you and Catherine had done for the Kurds-"

"We won't talk about that now, will we? I know Colonel Nofstala won't either. He likes the arms and equipment his men and women have been receiving."

"So how's Catherine?"

"She's loving every minute of being the legal liaison between Colonel Nofstala and the Irbil Station officer."

"And how does ole Stanley feel about that?" Brad said jocularly. He knew that CIA Station Chief Stan Turlington could be a real, well, you know.

Clay smiled. "About to tear his hair out."

Brad gave him an evil smirk. "Good for Catherine."

"Guess you're going to go out and meet with Khalil and Rafiq?"

Brad stood up with some effort. Some days were worse than others. "And express my condolences? Yeah..." He shook his head and looked at the Spook. "I've always hated this part," he admitted.

Clay knew what he meant. "Want some company?" he offered.

Brad gave him a weary smile. "Sure, let's go."

As they walked toward the operation center's entrance Brad sighed again. "Do you think Aban had any family, I mean, don't know if he-"

Clay was all over it. "I'll find out. If they aren't here, we'll get them here. Worst comes to worst, they can stay with me, Catherine, and Corey."

A lot had changed about Clayton Webb in the past few years and definitely for the better. Maybe Catherine and Corey had something to do with that.

"So is Corey going to follow in your shoe-phone footsteps?"

"He'd better not if he knows what's good for him. "I got lucky when I found Catherine; I didn't know that at the time she was pregnant and I almost blew it," the CIA agent admitted ruefully. "Had I not found her, I'd probably be dead by now."

Clay seemed to be in a pretty good mood, so Brad couldn't resist a good natured dig. "Guess you heard and saw what Admiral Rabb did."

Clay snorted at that crack. "The flying daredevil lawyer and his gung-ho Marine sidekick? Who didn't?"

"Think the JAG will tear them a new one?" former SEAL asked suddenly wondering about their fate. After all they were still active duty.

Clay shook his head. "Not if she's smart. And if she is that dumb, I know Catherine would fly to Washington in a heartbeat to represent them."

He elaborated as they reached Brad's truck. "No, I think the SECDEF, the SECNAV, and everyone else from the National Command Authority on down knows better. Rabb and MacKenzie have a lot of friends on the Hill and elsewhere that would rain down hell on earth if anything bad happened to them. After all, they're heroes. They saved two helo crews and a Marine TRAP team. That's gotta count for something."

Brad walked over and opened the driver side door. "You'd think, but…." The implication was there. Many a solider had been skewered in the past few years.

Clay seemed to chew that one over for a moment. Then he shook his head as if dismissing his dark thoughts. "Yeah, I know, but I think the political cost would be too heavy."

? Local_ ? Zulu
Outside the ISIS held village
Near Mount Sinjar, Kurdistan

The two battered pickups skittered to a stop on the deserted desert road under a group of date palms. The gunners in the back of the technicals scanned the skies anxiously for any sign of the devil aircraft. There were none. However behind them, multiple plumes of black smoke marked the final resting place for a majority of the ISIS armor that had been brought to that village for the purpose staging a decisive assault on the Kurdish positions.

"We made it Muqaddam/Lieutenant Colonel! The Americans did not spot us leaving!" One said in obvious relief as he turned his head toward the cab. A bearded figure dressed in black nodded as he got out of the truck. Several in the gun crew hopped down as well, waiting to hear what their leader had in mind as their next step.

Muqaddam/Lieutenant Colonel Rifaat al Qassam, a former officer in the Syrian army, knew his men needed a pep talk. They had lost most of their armor today and more than half of their men. Al Rihad province was in danger of falling into the kafir Kurdish hands if they weren't careful. He needed to rally his men now. As he started to speak a battered T-55 tank drove up.

"My brothers, many of our brave warriors were martyred today by the American infidels flying in their devil machines, including our beloved leader 'Aqid Hazami. We have been bloodied today, but we are not bowed…"

As he continued, a bullet riddled BTR-152 six wheel carrier joined their group. The walking wounded aboard stood up when they saw it was Muqaddam Qassam speaking.

"…but we are soldiers of Allah! He is on our side! Our losses make us stronger! We shall strike back at the Western infidels and their lackey Arab dogs where they live! There will be no rest, no comfort for them!"

The little group was joined by a 4x4 BTR-40 armored car. Its crew stood as the vehicle's driver braked.

Qassam was emboldened by the hopeful looks in their eyes. When they first arrived they appeared beaten, depressed. Now they were beginning to nod their heads and murmur in agreement.

"We will contact Raqqa and have our social media experts find willing Mujahidin near their bases and homes! What their media likes to term 'Lone Wolves'! Our wolves, guided by Allah, will find them and kill them…avenging 'Aqid Hazami and the others who were martyred here today!"

The crowd of wounded warriors erupted.

"How wonderful!/Ya salam!"

"Great!/y/uazim!"

"Excellent!/ y/ual!"

"God willing!/In-sa allah!"

"Yes! Yes!/Aywa! Aywa!"

Qassam was drinking it all in. Yes, they would find the flame haired one and behead her in front of her horrified parents. And the same with the rest of the helicopter crews. The Marines would be found at their bivouacs, dispatched by faithful posing as one of their own. He could see it now…

Suddenly an earthshaking roar filled the air.

"Look! Look!/Suf! Suf!" screamed one of Qassam's soldiers.

Two ran to their technical…if they could just get to the AA guns in time…

Qassam looked up at the green palms covering them. It would not be enough.

xixixixixixixixixi

Royal Jordanian Air Force Naqib/Captain, Omar Saqqaf, pointed his F-16C Fighting Falcon toward the little spot of green surrounded by ISIS armored vehicles and trucks.

He radioed his flight which was following close behind him. "Bismillah-r-ramani-r-rahimi /In the name of Allah, the most gracious, the most merciful, we have found the dogs! The Khefir kabier/Great infidels try to hide in that stand of date trees!"

"Mukhtar Three follow me in!" he said to his wingman.

"Aywa Mukhar Four!/Yes Chosen Four! Ma sha'a allah! /Until the time God wants, forever!' he replied as he pointed his own plane toward the target.

The four Jordanian F-16s dropped 1,000 pound 'dumb iron' bombs and armor piercing cluster bombs as they strafed the gathering. The date palms along with the ISIS armor splintered and exploded under the assault. One or two of the vehicles must have been ammo carriers because on the second pass by Saqqaf's group, they exploded with their own thunderous detonations which obliterated any survivors. Orange flames and thick black smoke blotted out the gathering.

Qassam and his men were no more.

Omar Saqqaf ordered his men to look for other targets of opportunity. As they headed off, he wheeled over the burning wreckage one last time. "For Ra'id al Kasasbeh, Daesh," he muttered and then turned his craft to rejoin his group.

-Fini

A/N – Hope you enjoyed the story. In case you're wondering…yes, the Daesh [as they are called by the Arabs] do commit the atrocities mentioned in this story. If you're wondering just how I found this information, I'm more than happy to share. National Geographic, PBS-Frontline, Discovery, the BBC [British Broadcasting Corporation], CNN, and FOX News have all done reports on how ISIS treats its 'subjects'. In my opinion, I think the BBC does the best job providing graphics and detailed maps that are very useful to anyone doing research on who ISIS is and what they are up to. Keep in mind that the BBC is presenting their news from the European point of view, so you'll notice that bias in their reporting. While my 'Task Force Dawn' is a total fiction, there are former service members, from every branch of US service, that are serving with the Iraqi Kurds. I even read about some from my hometown who left the service to fight with the Kurds. I salute those brave males and females who have done this. As Tom Clancy would have said, 'I see ISIS as a "clear and present danger" not only to our country, but to every western country. That is why I wrote this tale. Much like Bellisario and his team did this from time to time on JAG, and continue to do with NCIS, I thought it was a story that needed to be told.

A/N2 - Ra'id al Kasasbeh was the brave Jordanian pilot who was burned alive by the Daesh earlier this year. - TnJAGAz