The Past Brings the Future (closed for MC)

[zydrate]

Name: Katherine (Katie) Archer
Age: 29
Occupation: Aide Worker/Nurse

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Graduation Night (12 years earlier)

“How could you do this Josh? You never even hinted at it...” Katie was doing her best to keep her voice steady, but there was no way she could look into his eyes as she spoke.

Joshua Michaels had been dreading telling Katie this since receiving the letter from the Army. He never told her because well…look at how she was acting. He knew she’s take it hard. “Katherine…” he started…but he couldn’t finish. Instead he took a deep breath and reached for Katie’s hand, which she promptly yanked away. Josh sighed, “Please Katie, don’t do this…we still have a month to spend together, plenty of—“

“NO! No Josh…” Unable to hold It in anymore, Katie started to cry openly, “You’re going away Joshua! And by not telling me makes me think that all we shared was nothing! What if you don’t come back? What if you forget me?” There were so many ‘what ifs’ that Katie couldn’t speak anymore, instead, she was overtaken by sobs and didn’t feel Josh’s arms wrap around her, holding her close to him.

“Katie… I’ve loved you for so long, there is no way I’m going to forget what we have. We can still have it Katie, please…”

She wrapped her arms around him and just buried her face in his chest, “Why didn’t you tell me you had signed up?”

The answer was simple “I was afraid.”

Katie could understand what he was saying but it didn’t make things easier. She had loved Josh with all her heart. She thought they would be attending college and then get married after and then… God, who was she kidding? These were things she had been assuming and not told Josh about…just like he hadn’t told her that he was going away in a month…

“Katie girl, don’t cry…please?”

Katie girl, he had always called her that as far back as she could remember. With a sniffle and a slight nod, Katie backed up, her watery eyes looking up into Josh’s, “Don’t forget about me Joshua Michaels…”

How could he forget someone so dear to his heart?

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Present day

The small convoy of military trucks made their way through the night, hopefully undetected and at peace. Civilian Nurse, Katherine Archer was in the back of one of the supply trucks, letting her mind wander aimlessly as the truck swayed, rocking the back. It had been a tough few weeks since coming to this side of the world.

A few weeks ago, Katie was working a nice paced life in Chicago as an ER nurse. What she saw in the ER was nothing compared to what she was seeing here. Gunshot wounds, stabbings, beatings…those were all mild compared to what she was seeing now…bombing victims, children sacrificed, starved… It all didn’t seem to end. She felt like she had grown up more here than she had when she was in college and nursing school… or even living alone with her two cats in her nice 2 bedroom apartment.

Now, her she was, her apartment had been taken over by her little sister while she was away…going through the desert in the cover of night…

She didn’t know why she had thought of Joshua…it had been years since they last spoke and eventually, lost touch. She had remembered their teenage years of being in love, her teenage dreams of them being together forever…if she could go back in time and talk to her young self, she would’ve knocked some sense into herself, telling herself that there was no such thing as happily ever after…

Katie smiled to herself. The first real smile she had in a long time.

Suddenly, the truck stopped, as did the rest of the convoy…why were they stopping? The soldiers readied their weapons, this wasn’t planned…suddenly, and the whirling of an incoming missile got their attention…

Shouting and followed by an explosion that rocked the truck Katie was in! One soldier slammed into Katie, knocking her down as another explosion rocked the ground! It was all happening so fast, Katie didn’t know how to react, how to feel…her head accidentally slammed into the floor of the truck…she saw stars…then heard shooting, foreign words…shouting and yelling…

 

[MisterChino]

It was a complex ambush.

The decoy was set on the side of the improved roadway which had seen the recent traffic of Coalition Force convoys. The route, which had been used by locals for both on-foot and automotive movement, was now abandoned ever since the first military convoy was seen travelling on it. The Coalition had started to push eastward into a village that had been isolated from major combat operations. Intelligence assets assessed that the village had been a safe haven for the insurgency, offering a hub for which foreign fighters arrived to and departed from, as well as location for which weapon caches were stowed for ultimately using them against the Coalition. Soon, Coalition Forces advanced their forward line of troops, extending their reach toward the isolated node and developing a line of communication to the isolated village. It was a difficult task, as Engineers started to clear the road of improvised explosive devices. Every few feet, Explosive Ordnance Disposal teams and the Engineers would encounter an unexploded ordnance, causing all movement to halt until the ordnance was properly disposed and the area was rendered safe for the mission to continue. Small arms fire was sporadic, however, the Coalition advance was met with little resistance. It would take a week before Coalition convoys finally reached the village. It was the first time that the villagers encountered Coalition forces, and they were naturally hesitant toward speaking with the Coalition representatives. It was known throughout the area that cooperation with the Coalition often resulted in one's death if this cooperation was to be discovered; the challenge was to obtain their support. Hence, a Coalition Task Force was assembled to bring in civilian workers and aides to provide humanitarian assistance and construction projects into the village. The first convoy of humanitarian aide workers would be escorted into the village tonight, where they would set up for a medical civil action program center to provide medical aide for the local villagers by daylight in order to garner support of the local populace and to obtain their trust.

The moon was high and bright, presenting ample illumination where the use of night vision was not needed. Anything that was travelling on the road would be visible and silhouetted by the moonlight. The use of unmanned aerial vehicles had not yet been approved, thus making the improved road vulnerable to sabotage. It had been several days since the initial push into the town, and there had been no reports of insurgent activity. Travelling by night was assessed to be the best course of action due to the operational and logistical constraints. It was determined that most of the attacks happened during the day, where visibility was not an issue. The convoy was light, containing several supply trucks that were not outfitted for combat, to be escorted by a small mechanized infantry platoon. The convoy itself carried numerous medical personnel of varying specialties, and medical supplies. Exposed by the moonlight, the convoy was a prime soft target.

The decoy itself was an empty artillery shell. It had no explosive capability whatsoever. The shell had been outfitted with wires and covered halfheartedly with dirt to purposely provoke the natural reaction for a military convoy to stop. The gunner of the lead vehicle immediately identified the suspicious device, calling for the convoy to halt. As the vehicles rolled to a dead stop, the entire convoy had entered the kill zone. Unbeknownst to the Convoy Commander, the decoy was used to stop the convoy within the kill zone that had been set-up. The real improvised explosive devices had been emplaced in the true kill zone, as the vehicles were now sitting directly on top of the live ordnance. There was a momentary silence as protocol called for the Soldiers to dismount the vehicles. As the lead vehicle truck commander stepped out from the armored HMMWV and placed his foot onto the dusty road beneath him, a sudden explosion ripped through the first vehicle. A complete fire storm engulfed the armored vehicle and its personnel as the improvised explosive device detonated beneath the underbelly of the vehicle destroying everything within with the explosive force and pressure. Almost simultaneously, men wearing tribal attire and armed with rocket propelled grenades and AK-47s launched their assault on the convoy.

The trigger of a rocket propelled grenade was squeezed, launching the missile toward the largest targets of the convoy - the supply trucks. Although assuming a fairly uncontrolled linear path, the missile was launched with precision, indicative of the skill of the trigger man. The missile slammed into the soft, canvas rib of the truck, exploding into the bed that had been occupied by both military and civilian personnel. The shouts and screams of the wounded sounded from the shredded truck bed after the missile had found its mark. A second missile from the rocket propelled grenade launcher had fell short of the target, hitting the improved road before exploding, sending shrapnel in every which direction. As the Soldiers scrambled to react to the ambush, the assault became more aggressive as the Coalition forces were overwhelmed with fire superiority. The kill zone was extremely violent and brutal as the snaps of bullets whizzing by and the crack of the projectiles hitting the armored vehicles deafened all other sounds. Within minutes, the majority of the vehicles had been severely disabled or destroyed. Many of the Soldiers had been fatally wounded and succumbed to ambush. The assault was soon over, as the convoy stopped returning fire and had completely submitted to the ambush.

As the masked men carefully approached the carnage, they began to secure the weapons that had belonged to the armed Soldiers. Stepping over the pools of blood and lifeless bodies, the men began to search the convoy and scavenge for supplies, while looking for possible survivors. The men shouted victoriously at each other, and while issuing commands to execute the survivors that they did find. Too severely wounded to fight back, the survivors were in no position to defend themselves as the masked men made their rounds finishing off the wounded. Shots rang into the air as the men ensured the deaths of their opponents. As the masked men started to pull the bodies off from the supply truck, they were able to find a wounded and dazed female. The men looked over her briefly. She had been wearing a khaki-colored uniform upon which the universal Red Cross symbol had been sewn. Her outfit had been stained with blood, from both the deceased occupants and that of her own. Her face had been blackened from the soot and charring from the explosion, while her fine reddish hair had been clumped with oil, grease and blood. Two masked men had carried her from either side, pulling her up by her arms while allowing her to subconsciously set up on her knees. Placing a bag over her head and loosely tying the opening, the masked men carried her along with them as they exfiltrated from the scene, leaving behind the destruction as evidence of their successful ambush.

 

[zydrate]

Katie remembered trying to help a few of the soldiers around her that were hurt but the small cut on her forehead was gushing like her head was cut open. She ignored it, as well as the pounding from the pain, as she attended to those around her. For some, it was too late, for others, she remembered giving them instructions on what to do with their wounds. She promised that help would come soon.

She just hoped it wasn't a lie.

Another blast from near by and she was dragged back to the ground, this time a little too fast as she felt the world beneath her spin and she closed her eyes, momentarily blacking out. She tried to fight it but couldn't as she lift her head and saw several someones coming toward her and she was unable to keep her eyes open. Her head fell back against the dirt and she immediately felt someone lift her by her arms and she groaned, her head rolled forward. More foreign words...directions it seemed like.

Her head was covered with something. But she was too weak to fight it as she was brought up to a standing position and taken somewhere. She tried to pull away from those holding her but it was only a feeble attempt. And it was then she was tossed onto a flat surface and she had finally lost consciousness.

It was welcoming.

***
She was sitting up, that much Katie knew. Her head was pounding and she couldn't see but it was obviously daylight. Something was covering her head and she tried to lift her arms but felt them restrained. She groaned as she tried again to move her arms to no avail.

"H-H...hello?" she said, turning her head to see if she could make out anything beneath the cloth covering her head. The crunch of someone stepping toward her made her turn her head to the sound. She heard the footsteps crunching on...dirt perhaps? So she called again, "Who's there?"

 

[MisterChino]

Coalition forces in the neighboring areas were immediately alerted of the troops in contact; all ground forces currently not engaged in a mission were directed to support the ambushed friendly element. Meanwhile, the responsible command post frantically tried to retain communication with the doomed convoy, while directing message traffic toward reallocating friendly elements to reinforce the ambushed forces. The fast movers were up and running as their afterburners illuminated the dim runway with their bright orange rings. The combat helos were already enroute to the scene, as all air support was called in to assist the ambushed unit. All quick reactionary forces were scrambling toward the area. All eyes and ears were focused on the dire situation, as everyone crossed their fingers for the successful recovery of all personnel and equipment.

That would not be the case.

As friendly elements arrived to the scene, the promise of any survivors was lost to the evident massacre. Troops on ground moved cautiously through the carnage and destroyed vehicles, securing the area before taking accountability of the personnel killed in combat and any sensitive items that was loaded on the convoy. The grim news quickly got back to the command post to report no survivors, while convoy manifests and rosters were provided back to the recovery team on ground to ensure the accurate accounting and identification of the deceased. The Soldiers carefully moved the bodies, after a field investigation team and forensics finished gathering the evidence and documenting the scene. It was a gruesome task, as Soldiers waded their tan colored boots through the drying pools of blood and picked up the mangled bodies and various body parts belonging to the Soldiers and civilian personnel in the convoy. The insurgents who had ambushed the convoy moved quick, scavenging the weapons from the dead and the supplies from the cargo trucks, taking with them whatever they were able to carry and leaving the remaining supplies to burn with their transporting vehicles. It was a sensitive items nightmare, as the enemy now had weapons, communication, and night vision devices belonging to Coalition Forces. However, the crisis worsened as one civilian personnel had not been accounted for. The communication lines fired up as news of the possible capture of Katherine Archer spreaded across the theater of operations.

 

[MisterChino]

By the time that it was identified that Katie Archer was missing, it was already too late. Her captors had the jump on the Coalition Forces. After fleeing the scene with their injured, but surviving captive, the experienced and highly trained operatives took cover and safe haven in the village down the road. Knowing that they would likely be spotted if they remained on the road, the operatives took shelter in the urban landscape of the village. UAVs, fixed-winged and rotary-winged gunships were swarming and buzzing the skies in attempt to obtain clues as to where the ambushers have fled. Thermal and infrared optics scanned the terrain and area, but were unable to latch onto any positive indicators. Staying overnight would also be ill-advised; the village would most likely be targeted and searched. However, unbeknownst to Coalition Forces, the safe house gave passage to a network of underground tunnels that led into the hills and caves of the nearby valleys and mountains. The sounds of aerial vehicles droned overhead, meanwhile the village remained silent, but vigilant as ever. After hunkering down for about an hour, the skilled operatives saw the chance to escape into the mountainscape, where the caves and dense woods provided overhead coverage from being found. Dragging the unconscious female behind them, the captors safely evaded Coalition Forces using the underground tunnels to make their way to the mountains. The trail was now cold, while Coalition Forces desperately attempted to find Katherine Archer, the 26 year old aide worker and nurse that was the unfortunate victim of this particular circumstance.

After moving slowly, but purposefully through the hills and forest, with the unconscious female in tow, the operatives have finally reached their mountainous, hillside "fortress." There was no signs of civilization, until the massive huts sprang out at them. Snugged deep within the valley, the assembly of mud huts nested on the side of the mountain like that of a fungus on the side of a tree, while being camoflauged to aerial view with overhead vegetation. The dark, mud colored compound was rather obscure, providing a simple appearance and notion of similar lifestyle of the inhabitants within. The air was somewhat colder, while the smells of burning pits and smokestacks were faint, and overtaken with the natural ambience of the streams and vegetation in the valley. Just over the hill, the sun shone bright, illuminating the lush canopy of the forest that sat upon its crest. However, a few kilometers beyond that sat an observation outpost. Barbed wire stretched around the sandbag fortifications, as armed men can be seen patrolling nearby as other sentries looked out through their binoculars. A tall standing pole erected from the singular solid concrete bunker in the outpost. A very prominent flag flown proudly overhead. It would be here, within the shadows of the Afghanistan-Pakistan border, that the operatives have chosen to be the base of their operations.

Tired and exhausted from their journey, the men casted their unconscious captured prisoner into a cell with a single squared shaped window that had been barred with steel poles crafted into the structure. They sat her up upon a wooden chair to which they tied her wrists and ankles; this was to prevent her from choking to death incase she vommited. They would deal with her the next day.

Muhamed had been guarding the chamber. The lanky boy rose up with his back sliding against the wall as he heard the captive stir and calling within the cell. His slender arms drew and slung the AK 47 that had been restng beside him over his shoulders as he proceeded toward the wooden door. His feet stepped nimbly forward; his motions were smooth, but purposeful. Muhamed had joined the "cause" when he was merely 15 years of age. Leaving his poor village to seek the "enlightenment" and "fulfillment" from Allah as promised by the recruiters, Muhamed joined many other young boys that had travelled from other villages to replenish the ranks of the insurgency. However, the unlimited thrill and fun that the recruiters had spoken of was not what these boys had in mind. Many of them were tested by seasoned members whom often were not much older than them. Many of the boys started off completing trivial and mundane tasks, whether it was preparing food, washing clothes or cleaning up after the elders. Muhamed took these tasks in stride and stood out above his peers. The senior members had taken a liking to him, and soon gave him more responsibilities and meaningful tasks. Soon, Muhamed was allowed to sit with the other senior members during prayer, teachings and studies of the religion. As Muhamed soaked in the pragmatic speeches and lectures of the elders, he began to view things in a new perspective. Complimenting these classes, Muhamed would take lessons in other foreign languages to include English. He began to want and pursue the things that were "owed" to him. By the age of 18, Muhamed had already killed his first man. The seniors had dragged the man out of his bed in the middle of the night, and into the middle of the village. Standing there was Muhamed and his mentor. The older man handed Muhamed a pistol which held a rustic appearance, showing off its decades of use and abuse. The man which had been dragged from his home now knelt before him. Without a word spoken and hesistation, Muhamed pointed the loaded pistol at the man's head and pulled the trigger, executing the unknown man for all the village folk to see. Now that Muhamed was indoctrinated, his peers brought him along for bolder missions - missions that would give one's life for their cause. After the successful anbush, Muhamed was now tasked with guarding the captive - a frail looking female Westerner.

As Muhamed removed the lock from the hasp and unbolted the door, his hands pushed the door open to reveal the captive that had seemingly regained consciousness. The light from the barred window shown brightly over the burlap bag that had been secured over her head. He walked further into the cell, as his feet shuffled upon the coarse dirt and gravel on the floor. The captive called out, startling Muhamed. Immediately, he would raise his hand up and subsequently bring the back of the hand across the covered face of the female. "SHUT UP!," Muhammed instructed. Bringing his hand back to his side, he noticed that he drew fresh blood from the impact. He smirked.

He was not suppose to interact with the prisoner; his seniors forbidded it and tasked him with guarding her only. Perhaps it was the thrill that caused him to continue, as Muhamed disobeyed the instructions. He walked behind the seated female, taking his chances. "Why are you here?"