“I got ‘em. Taking them a little while to get through all of the people. Okay, they’ve stopped and appear to be unloading whatever, or whoever, is in back.”
“That’s our guys. I see ‘em.”
“Sure is. Okay, I’ll let the General know we’ve located our guys.”
VIII
“Do you know what happened to the other Pedro?” Arielle asked Jackson as they landed at Al-Tanf.
“No, I don’t. I saw it break off from us a few miles back.”
“They went to our airfield about twelve klicks from the base,” the crew chief advised. “Your friend was in pretty bad shape so they’re taking him straight to Al-Asad.”
“Okay, I thought it was something like that,” Stonewall said.
“We need to find a place to change. You’re literally a bloody mess and my top’s pretty well shredded,” Arielle added. “I don’t necessarily need to wash up, but I really need to change.”
“We don’t have any women currently stationed here so I’d check over at the aid station, ma’am, if all you’re needing to do is change clothes.”
“That’ll do fine, sergeant,” Arielle replied, as the sergeant brought them to the aid station. “They’re still serving breakfast at the mess hall. That’s the building just opposite this one,” the crew chief indicated, pointing out the structure for them.
“Thanks, sergeant. Appreciate it,” Stonewall said as they both walked into the aid station.
Arielle emerged still wearing her cargo pants but she now had a black long sleeve Under Armour half zip form-fitting top. Jackson still wore his desert cammies, though he wore a black Under Armour compression T-shirt. “Glad they don’t have any women stationed here,” Arielle said to Stonewall as they walked towards the mess.
“Why’s that?”
“Zivah’s right. You and a black T-shirt like that look soooo good together! You could be Mars himself with that sculptured physique. You’d have every woman on base fawning all over you.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Oh, I know that. I just love seeing you like this.”
“Looks like we got here just in time,” Jackson said to Arielle. “No line and still a few open tables to sit at.”
“And do you see that over there in the corner?”
“We had a USO group here last month and they left that for us,” the mess sergeant said to Arielle, noticing her interest in the piano. “No one’s played it since.”
“Well, I’m going to have to check it out,” she said to Stonewall. “Grab me whatever you’re having.”
“Will do. I’ll be right over.”
While Stonewall grabbed breakfast for both of them, Arielle checked out the piano. Before he even left the breakfast bar, the unmistakable tune of ‘Hey Jude’ resonated throughout the room. By the time he sat down next to the piano, Arielle had captivated the entire gathering of soldiers and airmen in the building. Arielle followed ‘Hey Jude’ with ‘Let It Be’ and, for a change of pace, Jerry Lee Lewis’ ‘Great Balls of Fire.’
“You missed your calling,” Stonewall said to Dani as she sat down across from him and over the applause from the impromptu audience.
“Nah, I told you before, my sister’s the pianist in the family. She taught me everything I know. As it is, I find the piano a great escape from everything going on. But… seriously?” she asked suddenly noticing the bacon on her plate.
“What?” he replied with a huge grin. “Bacon’s practically an American staple. I mean bacon goes with everything. Have you seen the latest? Bacon maple bars — they’re amazing!”
“Stonewall, you can be so maddening at times,” she said as she tossed the bacon on his plate. “You’ve never had a ‘bacon maple bar.’ That’s just gross. You have one of the healthiest diets of anyone I know. The thought of bacon alone just clogs my arteries.”
“Yeah, but it tastes sooo good!” he said with a smile. “So, got something else for ya,” as he slid over a bowl of strawberry yogurt. “Didn’t know you were a Beatles fan.”
“I’m not really, so much as I really admire what they did. You realize these guys were in their early twenties when they went to the States — back in the sixties — and broke up when Lennon was just 30. Think about that — these four guys turned the music world upside down at an age that’s younger than either one of us. These guys, especially John and Paul, were geniuses. Plus, look at the men here. I bet there isn’t anyone here under twenty-eight. The Beatles’ music is one of the most iconic and recognizable there is. Do you think there isn’t anyone here who hasn’t heard any of their songs?”
“Good point. Guess I’m like most and just simply enjoy listening to them. Well, we’ve probably got a few hours to kill so I would imagine the troops here wouldn’t mind a little concert of sorts. You take requests?”
“Hardly a concert but, oh yeah, we’ll have some fun with this! They’ve got some music here and I know a few numbers.”
“What the hell happened at Eskisehir?” President Demirel demanded of his national security staff.
“Mr. President,” the Director General of the National Police, began. “We have very little to go on. Shortly after Ataturk arrived a truck bomb exploded directly beside the building. We have several videos from neighboring security cameras and we have a clear picture of the truck and driver. The name of the company does not exist and we cannot tell if the driver ever leaves the building.”
“Do we know who did this?” the president asked.
“At present, no one has claimed responsibility,” the Director General replied. “I don’t think I need to tell you that the PKK and Daesh are the two main suspects. This kind of attack fits the MO of both groups so simply based on the type of attack, we can’t rule either of them out.”
“Given what we know of both groups, who’s the more likely suspect?”
“We’ve been conducting airstrikes in both Syria and Iraq, hitting the Kurds pretty hard. Just in the last week, we’ve hit multiple Kurdish cities with daily raids, usually with over a hundred sorties a day,” the Chief of the General Staff replied. “Lately, we’ve expanded on this and gone as far south as the oil regions of Kirkuk and Suleymaniya. Obviously, they’d be my first guess. There’s been a strong independence movement in northern Iraq and we’ve been trying to beat it back as hard as we can. This could be an attempt to strike back.”
“Have we taken a shot at their leadership yet? If not, let’s do it now.”
“We haven’t. We’ve been hitting their personnel and their economic infrastructure but not their political leadership. I’ll make sure we make that change,” the general replied.
“Colonel Jackson, Major Yaniv, I’m Colonel Matt Reyes, the base commander. Sorry I haven’t gotten over here earlier. I’ve been on a conference call with Centcom”—US Central Command—“and General Logan at JSOC”—Joint Special Operations Command—“and then had another one from a friend of yours, Jim Carmichael. He’s making arrangements with the Jordanians right now. We’ll get you on a helicopter to Jordan’s H-4 Air Base — that’s about seventy-five miles from here. From there, Jim’ll get you on a flight to Tel Aviv. I would expect you two’ll be home some time later this afternoon.”
“That’s great. I can’t thank you enough,” Dani added. “What about our two friends?”
“The one that’s more seriously wounded is still in surgery at Al Asad air base. The last I heard, they think he’ll be fine though he’s going to have a long recovery. The other one’s also in surgery, though he’s not nearly as bad off. He’ll be back on his feet in a week, two at the outside, from what they’re telling me.”