Killing Sheep: The Righteous Insurgent by Blackard Mark

Author:Blackard, Mark [Blackard, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mark Blackard
Published: 2012-09-09T05:00:00+00:00

Lieutenant Colonel N ordered the men to remain in place at the safe house, in lieu of going home for the night. I wanted to stay as well, but needed to verify there were no fires to be put out at the prison camp. Luckily, no one was complaining about me that night and the coast was clear to do what I was paid to do. I fueled up my vehicle and stole the typical complement of bottled water. After a couple of hours of sleep, I was headed back out the gate.

HONK! HONK! HONK! I blew the horn so the soldier would come and open the gate for me. When I first arrived in Afghanistan, I didn’t like to blow the horn at night out of courtesy for the neighbors. I quickly learned it’s not looked upon as being discourteous. Just blow the horn. That’s what it’s for. The team was waking up when I pulled in. Soon, we were geared up and pulling into police headquarters. In the darkness of four in the morning, a small army had been assembled. There were young ANP officers standing in formation in front of the older convoy commander, who was barking out operational details. Other young officers were loading ammunition and RPG rounds into the back of the Ford Rangers. Machine gunners were inspecting their weapons mounted in the backs of the trucks. Police radios crackled in the night air.

Lieutenant Colonel N, Sammy, and I met with the convoy commander and Colonel H. Last minute details were worked out and contingency plans were discussed. The dispatchers were briefed and would be ready to send backup units, if necessary. The local district chief was standing by to assist and would send additional units upon our arrival.

At around 4:15 a.m., a convoy of twelve vehicles left the PHQ, again like the start of a NASCAR race. Our vehicles were in the lead since we had already conducted a recon of the area. The trip didn’t take long, as we were the only ones on the roads. As we got close to the staging area, all vehicles killed their headlights except for the lead. In the darkness, it appeared as if a lone vehicle was traveling down the road. We pulled off of the pavement, only far enough down the dirt road to conceal the convoy from passing vehicles. Young ANP officers bailed out of the back of the pickup trucks and secured weapons. It seemed that one out of every four officers either had an RPG launcher or a PKM machine gun. As they assembled, I looked for Agent D. It made sense for him to lead the patrol.

He was nowhere to be found near the front of the action. Sammy inquired on the radio, and found out he was going to remain at the vehicle staging area.

“Why the hell is the case agent staying at the staging area?” I whispered to Sammy, in bewilderment.

“I don’t want to say, but they are scared, sir.

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