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Established May 2005

Other Books by Robert Powers ...
Unleash the Eagle | The Perfect Season | The Wow Factor | Warrior Obsession

Excerpt

Chapter One
Mesopotamia

Gary Quester jumped head first into the warm, thick air of the misty Arabian night. The wind whistled by him as he fell downward. He adjusted his body to resist the air, spreading his arms and legs toward where he knew the ground must be. Sam Radison was somewhere in the dark sky just above him. He pulled the rip cord and felt the jerk of the parachute opening above him.

Gary was relieved to see the ground begin to appear below him. It was flat, dull gray, illuminated by the few stars that peered through the clouds. Suddenly, the ground rushed up at him and he saw scrub brush dotting the dark landscape. His feet struck the earth in the heart of Mesopotamia and he ran to contain his momentum without falling, gathering in his chute. He pulled himself to a stop and saw Sam landing ten meters in front of him.

Gary removed his jump helmet revealing a wealth of curly brown hair that matched the beard he had grown for the mission. He bundled up his parachute and walked to where Sam had landed. Sam was well over six feet tall, as was Gary. Gary had a solid build with long and heavily muscled arms. Sam had a muscular build similar to Gary’s, though a bit leaner. He was about eight years older and sported a beard that was once sandy blond but now entirely gray. Sam removed his jump suit, revealing Arab robes. Gary did the same.

“You okay?” whispered Gary

“Sure… you?” answered Sam.

“I’m okay! Let’s bury these chutes, helmets and jump suits and get moving.”

“Roger that.”

They buried their parachutes, helmets and jump suits in the sandy earth. Gary glanced at the luminous dial of his watch. It was 0100 hours. A quarter moon hung in the sky above them casting dim light on the flat, marshy landscape. He sat down on the ground and removed a folded plastic map and a small red penlight from a pocket inside his robes. He put the small spotlight on the map.

“If the pilot did us any favors, we’re five kilometers south of the village of Musallam,” said Gary, “which means about fifteen kilometers west of Al Amarah and the Tigris River.”

“Let’s get the head rags on,” muttered Sam. “I hate these damn things!”

“They’re called turbans, Old Man” smiled Gary, “and you’re Basil Al Akbar… a Kuwaiti Sunni oil field worker… don’t forget!”

“Yeah, I got it, Young Man” said Sam. “And you’re Rami Al Numan… a Sunni merchant from Kuwait.”

They wound the turbans onto their heads and sat down on the sandy earth to take inventory of the things they would need.

“You got your first aid kit?” asked Gary. “With all the antidotes and stuff?”

Sam patted his robes. “I got mine,” he said. “Yours?”

“Yeah,” said Gary. “I hope we don’t need them!”

Sam stood up and motioned to Gary. “Come on, Young Man, We’ve got to get moving!”

“Okay, Old Man,” said Gary with a grin that came through as a smirk. “Whatever you say.”

The two big men walked east in the dark over a landscape filled with low lying green bushes, groups of palm trees and an occasional small stream.

“Whatever happened to that gal you were with in Afghanistan… Krystal?” asked Sam.

“She went back to New York,” said Gary. “She’s working on her Ph.D.”

“She’s quite a doll!”

“It didn’t work out,” said Gary, his tone signaling he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Okay, okay,” said Sam. “Just curious.”

**********

After several hours of walking, the sky began to glow in the east with early dawn. Gary and Sam huddled in a small gully surrounded by brush.

“Where are we?” asked Sam wearily.

Gary unfolded a map and put his finger on it west of the city of Al Amarah. “Right about here,” he said, pointing. “We should make it to Al Amarah tonight.”

“Listen!” said Sam in a hushed tone.

Gary strained his ears and heard a low rumbling sound. He peered over the edge of the gully and saw a cloud of sand and dust rising against the dawning sky about five kilometers from where they lay hidden.

“It sounds like military vehicles.” said Gary.

Sam looked at the cloud of sand and dust. “We’ll soon find out what they are,” he said, “if they keep heading this way.”

“Let’s hope we don’t!”

“What’s the name of Saeed’s tugboat over in Al Amarah?” asked Sam. “I keep forgetting.”

“Old age is catching up with you, Sam,” chortled Gary. “Kamilah… that’s its name.”

Gary listened to the sound of the oncoming vehicles. “Well, here we go again,” said Gary. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into these damn things, Old Man.”

“Hell,” said Sam, “If it hadn’t been for me, you’d be some punk tramp out on the road.”

’re right,” said Gary. “You talked some sense to me when I was a punk… I know it… and here I am.”

“Yeah… here you are,” said Sam. “And don’t blame me. You volunteered!”

“Yeah,” said Gary. “I volunteered… with the goddam Mud Fox shouting in my ear!”

“He has a way of doing that!” grinned Sam, squinting his eyes.

“The sonofabitch!” murmured Gary. “He and my Old Man must have been quite a pair back in Vietnam!”

“Keep it quiet! I can see the troop carriers,” said Sam. “And there are infantry out on the flanks of the column… they’re looking for something, or somebody.”

They huddled down in the gully and waited as the rumbling of the Iraqi military vehicles became louder. Gary listened to the approach of the Iraqi Army patrol. He closed his eyes and allowed images of Krystal Karim to flow into his vision