The Donetsk Liberation: Short Fiction Read online

  Usually the SEAL’s from the Naval Special Warfare Development Group or SEAL Team SIX as it had previously been known hated working with the spooks from Langley. With Conrad they made an exception; once in a previous life not too long ago Conrad had been one of them. He had been through the gruelling SEAL training in San Diego and through Green Team with Miller; the internal selection course that allowed SEAL’s to work within DEVGRU.

  From there he had been recruited to work for the Pariah Cell and now here he was, full circle. Running operations with his fellow SEAL’s for the agency.

  Lungs burnt and hearts pounded as they ran across the rocky field in the pitch of night. Now and again, one of the aid workers would stumble and fall, as they rapidly made away from the target, motivated by the growing sound of helicopter rotor blades.

  The whole team including the snipers arrived at the ERV thirty seconds before the Chinook did. They were once again on one knee in all round defence, this time, huddled much closer. The radio operator got in communication with the pilot as soon as the team were in position. One of the SEALs extracted an infrared light that flashed on two-second intervals to reveal their exact location to the pilots who were flying on night vision.

  Two AH64 Apache attack helicopters circled in a covering pattern as the Chinook came sweeping in. Its two rotor blades thudded through the night air as it skirted the ground at a height of fifty feet.

  Dust and stones were thrown in every direction beneath the belly of the helo as it came in on its approach. The down draft was phenomenal as each operator tried to cover their faces as they became engulfed in the dust cloud.

  At that moment one of the two Apaches 30mm chain guns sparked into life. Conrad and the team could hear rounds thumping into the ground no more than five hundred yards away. He looked up through the dust and darkness; three sets of vehicle headlights. The Convoy was right on top of them.

  With a degree of skill and experience, the pilot from the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment that supported special forces operations spun the bird 180 degrees. It continued forward landing the rear doors ten foot away from the team. An aircrew man stood to the side of the entrance and gave the thumbs up. Conrad rushed forward through the heat of the engines to the ramp and spun around counting each person on. Once the last man had run past he followed and gave a thumb up to the aircrew man. As quickly as the CH47 had landed, it was gone.

  Rounds began peppering the helicopter as the pilot dropped the front and sped across the countryside. Conrad moved to the front of the Chinook towards the cockpit. The two pilots were fully absorbed in controlling the two rotor aircraft.

  He turned around and saw two SEALs crouched over someone, conducting life support. Crimson blood flooded the aircraft. Dan moved closer and saw his best friend fighting for life on the floor. A tourniquet was being applied to his right arm while the other SEAL forced emergency bandage into a gunshot wound just below Millers shoulder.

  Miller had been hit multiple times as the men had clambered aboard, unawares to Conrad. Once the bandage had packed out the wound, Conrad pressed down hard on the wound to apply pressure, Miller made a low painful moaning sound as he did so. He looked at his friend’s right arm; the tourniquet had stemmed the blood flow, yet the wound that had just been packed still flooded with blood.

  One of the SEALs began cutting Miller’s trousers so he could bandage a gunshot on his left thigh. Conrad shuffled out of the way as he and Miller made eye contact, Millers left arm raised at the elbow as he reached out. Keeping pressure on the wound with his left hand, Conrad reached for his friend’s hand with his right and clasped it. He shouted with raw emotion above the noise of the rotors ‘STAY WITH IT, WE’RE GOING HOME.’

  Time stood still as the Chinook raced west, the pilots now fully aware that they carried a casualty. But it was too late, as his eyes bore into Miller’s he saw the focus go and felt his hand go limp. ‘NO DON’T YOU DO THIS.’

  Conrad refused to let go of his friend’s hand; they had been through so much together. He fell back against the seat, totally lost, unaware of the all the activity around him. One of the SEALs continued to help Miller by giving chest compressions but it was fruitless. Conrad unclipped his helmet and let it drop to the floor in a state of total shock before putting his hand on the shoulder of the SEAL still trying to revive his dead friend.

  Traffic was sparse as the dark Honda Prius pulled over. The sun-drenched streets of San Diego were as beautiful as ever. The heat from the mid day sun made Conrad reluctant to get out from the cold air conditioned car.

  His eyes never settled, they were constantly moving and searching for threats. He reached under his leg where his Glock 17 pistol lay. Whenever he drove he always placed his pistol there so it was accessible. There would be nothing worse than snagging it should he have to react to a situation. Keeping it low in his lap, he pulled the slide back a fraction and checked the chamber. He was always aware of the state that his weapon was in; he liked to re assure himself.

  Conrad stayed inside his car for a while longer, enjoying the coolness that the air condition afforded. He wore a white short-sleeved linen shirt and dark fitting cotton trousers. Conrad wasn't one for fashion, just practicality. He looked at himself in the mirror; he’d made an effort on his appearance by combing his hair and giving his dark beard a trim.

  Glancing down the street, he could see the address that he required five houses down on the right. He’d casually driven past a few moments before, then made his way around the block before pulling over. There were no vehicles parked outside and from what he’d viewed, he couldn't tell if the property were occupied. He took a deep breath, reached for the handle and stepped onto the sidewalk.

  The Glock remained locked in the glove compartment as he walked down the street. He had no plan for what would happen next, he wasn't good with this sort of thing, and he planned just going to go with it.

  Half way towards the house, a red four by four Suzuki jeep pulled up right outside. Lost deep in thought he looked up from the pavement to see a beautiful blond woman climbing out. He cursed as he froze and just stood taking in her beauty.

  Her short blonde hair and petite figure were striking. She jumped out onto the sidewalk, grabbed a grocery bag from the back and turned towards her front door. She fumbled with a set of keys and looked up at the sudden halting motion from Conrad. It had been years since she had last seen her brother’s best friend; confusion crossed her face then understanding.

  They both stood for what felt like eternity, before they both broke down in tears. Neither forced the moment, they moved to one another and hugged. Conrad’s arms wrapped around her shoulders as her head rested against his chest. Conrad held her so close that pain flooded back to his heart. The same pain he had felt when he had held her brothers hand in the helicopter extracting the aid workers during the Donetsk liberation.

  If you enjoyed this short story and for more information, please follow the author on Twitter: @_thomas_aaron

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