My Descent into Slavery Ch. 02

"Fatima, the fact you have nightmares is the reason you shouldn't go," Edgar said. "If you freeze, lock-up, scream, anything, you'll either end up dead or fucking up the mission."

"Take me with you now for the final assault training. If I do any of that, if I'm not 100% going through the drills, I won't go. But I might save seconds or even minutes which you might need."

Joshua said, "If we fail horribly, you might be taken again."

"Then blow the place to hell with everyone in it. It's the preferable alternative for everyone, believe me."

"Fuck!" Edgar exclaimed. "You know I love you, don't you."

"And I love you, and you're going there, with a ten percent chance of ending up a casualty, wounded or dead, and maybe you don't end up dead if I'm there. I won't fight you on this if I fuck up, but if I don't, I'm damn well going. You're taking other women, so you've got no real excuse not to take me if I can help."

"She's not totally helpless," Joshua said. "You've trained up everyone on the ship to repel boarders and pirates. She's qualified in both 9 MM and rifle now. It doesn't sound as if she's taking no for an answer."

"Would you let Beth go if our positions were reversed?"

"No, but she's my slave, and I can even tell her not to orgasm. Try telling that to Fatima."

"Fuck!"

"Maybe right before we leave the ship," Fatima said, smiling, "but I need to pack some things."

"Make sure it includes your armor. We didn't order you any more in your size."

******

Five days before the slaves branding, Smitty and Edgar had agreed they were ready to go. With the new equipment all working better than expected, the last couple dry runs had resulted in only five percent casualties for the blue team and two slaves. Hoping for perfection was out of the question. No red team alerts had happened until they were already in the building, taking down guards. They decided to push the go date. Everything they were seeing from satellites and drones still looked good and it would give them a little slop if they had any unforeseen problems.

They had gotten to the rendezvous point about ten klicks from Mahmoud's without a problem, two days early, but they had a problem now. There was localized heavy snowing, and it was cold. The cold they could deal with. They had planned an assault in the Atlas Mountains fairly close to the snow line in March, so they were geared up for it. The snow and wind were a totally different problem. The snow was causing footing problems and both the wind and snow were playing havoc with their drone overflights. They hadn't gotten real time updates for four hours. They'd hoped to get close to Mahmoud's during the daylight, and sneak in close after dark. Even if they left right now in these miserable conditions, they'd be lucky to get five miles before dark and getting the last five miles in the dark was too much. A mile in the mountains in dark conditions was optimal, two was pushing it, five was impossible.

The parachute snipers were unable to go because of the conditions. Everyone else had a substantially longer and more dangerous hike due to the conditions.

Edgar was talking low with Smitty, Shed, Palmer and Buck at the rendezvous point.

"This is fucking shit," Smitty said. "What the fuck are we going to do now?"

"We can push the operation back a day," Buck said. "You built some slop into the schedule for problems, and this is a problem. We really need to have some real time intelligence. We can't knock out the gate guards without drones, and I'm pretty sure they're not flying in this weather."

"We wanted the snipers in place a day ahead of time keeping an eye on the place before the main group got there. They have to be in place before dawn tomorrow, or we're going to be too fucking late," Edgar said.

"Well we could hike some guys in there now," Palmer said. "They won't be our snipers, but 800 yards isn't an impossible shot for most of our guys, and they're mostly just keeping an eye on things until everyone else gets there. We could still have the real snipers in place before we have to assault. We start marching everyone else now, get five klicks closer to Mahmoud's before dusk hits, go the rest of the way during the day tomorrow."

"Check with some of the men and find me some with mountain experience," Edgar said.

The men dispersed and soon came back with ten other guys who'd worked in the mountains in Afghanistan, including Ranger.

Edgar explained the problem to them. "You guys are the mountain experts. What the fuck should we do?"

They kicked around a few ideas before Ranger said, "I think we're looking at this storm all wrong. I don't think it's a problem as much as it is an opportunity. We set this rendezvous way out in the boondocks because we didn't think we could bring a bunch of vehicles closer to Mahmoud's without being observed. Who the fuck is going to see a car or truck in this weather more than a quarter mile away if we keep the lights off?

"I say we load most of our gear in the two vehicles we have here, drive it up the fucking road to within a mile of Mahmoud's with the rest of us double timing behind them, maybe a couple other guys in front with red lights to lead the vehicles if we need to worry about tricky spots. No one else is going to be on the fucking road in this weather. Unload our gear, let two drivers take the vehicles away, hike the rest of the way, take our positions. We might even be able to sneak a little closer in this weather. If we're sure they don't have infrared gear, they can't see us unless the snow stops, until we're within 100 - 150 yards of the place. Might get the airgun guys in closer than we hoped."

"Makes sense to me, Edgar," Buck said. "We might still have to wait until our snipers get here, but we won't need them keeping an eye on the place if everyone else is there. Hell, we might even be able to carry out the assault without them if we can get within three or four hundred yards. Wind howling might mask some of the extra noise we make. The only real problems then, becomes getting our drones airborne for last minute surveillance and the wind outside fucking with our darts for slaves."

"These mountain storms don't usually last that long," Ranger said. "It will probably blow over before midnight tonight."

"That's the plan then. Let's get loaded up," Edgar said.

******

They were on their way within thirty minutes, all of the heavy gear loaded into the two vehicles they had while most of the men followed the car and truck at a brisk trot carrying only their ballistic armor, rifle, handgun and knives. Fatima was riding in the truck with Edgar running alongside. Ranger was trotting beside Sahar and saw how effortlessly she was running.

"If it weren't for the fucking cold, this would be a pretty good run," Sahar said, not even breathing hard.

"You don't like the cold?"

"I was raised in Oman, trained as a slave in Yemen, worked for my first Master at a sex club in Egypt, sold to another in Rio de Janeiro. I was never in cold weather until going to Norway this past October. This is the first time I've been in snow."

"What happened to your two Master's?"

"They're dead."

"How?"

"The second one was supposedly killed by gangsters out of the City of God slum in Rio. That's what I believed when I was rescued. I don't think that's the way it happened anymore. It was a convenient tale to tell the police."

"Who did kill them?"

"Several of the men with us now. Although they were masked and didn't speak, after having trained with them for several months, I recognized the mannerisms and the way they handle their weapons. I think they were sent to rescue me and four other slaves."

"Who killed the first one?"

Sahar turned to look at him and grinned. "I did, and he took a long time to die. He was an Interpol agent and the one behind all of this human trafficking. I tortured him to find out where Mahmoud was. Even after he told us everything we needed to know, I still took ninety minutes to kill him. It was the most important thing I've ever done and I'd gladly do it a hundred more times. The only thing better, will be rescuing Beth. I plan to kill as many slavers as I can and I hope to spend some time on both Mahmoud and Abdul. Are you shocked?"

"Kind of wish I'd been there to see it."

"It wasn't pretty."

"Neither is what's been done to these young women."

Sahar was silent for the next half hour. She suddenly said, "I'm looking forward to fucking you, Ranger."

"Good, I got the permission of my Mistress. She said if I rescued Beth, I could have anything I wanted."

"You're not in bad shape for an old man."

"How old do you think I am?"

"Thirty-one, thirty-two, someplace in there."

"Thirty-three, and I'm a firefighter in my civilian job. I have to stay in shape. How old are you?"

"Twenty-three. I was taken when I was eighteen, spent four years as a slave, been free less than a year."

"Do you ever talk about your slavery?"

"Never. Don't ask. Let's just say that after we fuck, I won't stay in bed with you because I'm not sure what I'd do if I woke up with a man beside me."

"An element of danger. You're giving me an erection."

Sahar almost stumbled and looked at him.

"I'm kidding. My lungs can't spare the blood at the moment. The altitude is killing me. I live just above sea level."

Sahar smiled and picked up the pace. Ranger struggled to stay with her. While she'd also been at sea level for most of her life, she'd spent hours training every day.

******

"How in the fuck do you stay warm when you're not moving?" Sahar complained in a low voice. She had never been this cold in her entire life. "How is it Fatima isn't freezing to death?"

Sahar, Ranger, Thomas, Buck, Fatima and Edgar were hiding behind a rock outcropping about 250 yards from one of the guard towers. The snow had stopped, but after sunset, the temperature had dropped and was still dropping, and it was still too windy to fly the drones close to the compound. They struggled to stay over the headquarters and often depleted their batteries in half the standard flight time. Every so often, Edgar would look through some regular binoculars, and Thomas would look through infrared glasses, keeping an eye open for changes since the drones were ineffective.

"Didn't you tell her how to turn on her batteries?" Ranger asked.

"Batteries! This gear has batteries?" Sahar hissed.

"Didn't think of it," Edgar said. "Everyone else knows how to use it. Why don't you show her? I showed Fatima because she didn't go through the training."

"Pardon me for touching you," Ranger said. He slipped a hand inside of her outer camouflage gear, patting around until he found the switch to turn on her gear. He turned it on and pulled his hand out. Within minutes, Sahar felt her body start to warm up.

"Damn, Edgar! You'd think I've done this shit before."

"I forget you've never done any of this shit. You're so competent otherwise."

"Good save," Thomas said. "She'll probably still kick your ass the next time she has a chance."

Edgar laughed softly. "Probably."

"Listen, I want to thank you gentlemen for saving Ateefah, Beatriz, Hibbah, Maahnoor and me in Rio. That's probably the only reason I won't kick your ass."

"How did you figure it out?" Buck asked.

"The way you move when you drilled. Those were no fucking gang members sweeping those buildings."

"You can't talk about it," Edgar said. "What we did was a crime."

"It wasn't a crime to me. I won't talk about it. Ranger knows. I told him what I did to Schultz and he wished he could have been there. He knows these assholes need to die."

They all looked at Ranger and he nodded, pulling a pretend zipper over his lips.

Buck held out a fist and Ranger bumped it. Edgar turned to take another look again. Watching for five minutes or more each time.

"They're bring out some slaves to service the guards in our tower."

"Let me see," Sahar said.

Edgar handed her the binoculars and she stuck her head over the outcropping watching. "They're not naked. The slaves aren't naked."

"They'd be freezing if they were," Thomas said. "I'm sure they're naked in the building."

"You can hide guns and knives under those slave clothes," Sahar said.

Edgar looked back over the top and took the glasses back. He watched for several minutes. He sat back down.

"I've been a little worried about this wind. If we couldn't get the drones up and flight characteristics of the darts in the wind suck even if we do; what we were going to do if it doesn't die down. Our best chance of success lies in taking out the gate guards before we go in and we were depending on the drones. This gives us another possible entry. Sahar, you and Roberta would have to go up into one of the towers and exit it as slaves."

"They're escorted by a guard," Sahar said. "We'd need an Arabic speaking guy to go with us. Slaves don't speak unless spoken to. I know Arabic, but Roberta doesn't."

"Ranger?"

"Sorry, some Pashto and a little Tajik."

"I think most of our guys did their rotations in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Some of these guys must have done time in Iraq or Syria."

"It's getting close to dawn," Buck said. "We'll check around after dark. Protein bars for breakfast, anyone?"

******

Winds died down in the afternoon, but the only thing they could do after daylight was check satellite feeds and their glasses. There was a delay in receiving the photos, but they showed nothing had changed in the routines. They slept in rotations, four hours sleeping, two hours awake. Sahar was paired with Ranger, Fatima with Edgar and Buck with Thomas. Since they had nothing better to do, but make occasional visual checks during their awake period, Sahar tried teaching Ranger some basic Arabic slave commands. She taught him kneel, open your mouth, spread your legs, bend over, suck my cock, drink my piss.

Ranger had a problem with the last one.

"They made you drink piss?"

"That was one of the least offensive things I had to do. Repeat it."

"Do you think Beth had to drink piss?"

"Unless she's dead, yes. She drank piss, she ate shit, she's licked assholes which are still dirty. Beth has suffered horribly, and it's why these men deserve to die. Now say it. If you were to hear something you didn't recognize, you might give us some time to respond by ordering me to drink your piss. I'll do it. I've done it before."

Ranger repeated it until he got it right.

"Now, some simple ones, not slave related. Halt, what is your name, to which you will respond Mohammed, a common enough name in Arabic speaking countries. Since they won't recognize you, you will say, Mohammed and explain you're a new guard who came in with the last bunch of slaves."

She drilled Ranger until he got them all right, even extending into their next sleep rotation. Fatima and Edgar were awake when they finished. Fatima had tears in her eyes.

"If we have to, you'll pass in the right clothes if we're not questioned extensively," Sahar said.

"You did all these things too," Ranger asked Fatima, seeing her tears.

She nodded. Edgar pulled her close and kissed her softly on her forehead.

"Are you sure you're all right to go inside?" Edgar asked.

"I'm going. Don't ask me again. I got through the drills."

Edgar nodded.

******

At 6:30 AM, the conditions were optimal except for a couple of things. The temperatures were still cold enough that the guards at the door of the building were inside. Winds had died enough they had overflights of the compound and could pick off the guards at the gate. On the other hand, colder temperatures also meant no one was going outside or opening any windows, so there'd be less chance of being spotted that way.

The dart snipers had crawled within range of the towers, though they hadn't seen any slaves going out yet to service the guards. The dart snipers also had the grapnel guns to climb into the towers after the guards were dead as they had crawled closest to the walls.

There were two guards per tower except for the one closest to the gate, which had three in it. Two more guards on the interior of the gate. Edgar waited until everyone had a green on their intended target, then fifteen shots were fired and fifteen guards dropped, two by drone darts, using a deadly nerve toxin.

The dart snipers were already in the towers replacing the dead guards, while the others moved to the walls. The rifle snipers moved closer to monitor for other activity and to shoot anyone who might show up in a window. Three assault team members climbed the grappling ropes and dropped into the courtyard to open the gates for the rest, while two were focused on the inside door in case anyone stuck a head out.

They had one of the Arabic speakers knock softly on the door. "Open up, I have to take a shit," he said in Arabic.

"Shit in the garden."

"It's too cold. Don't be an asshole."

The door was cracked and two more silenced shots ended the door guards existence.

"Fatima said the cooks and other servants should be up right now. Dart men up front on the first floor," Edgar said over the com net. "Most of the servants should be there. Assault teams on me. We want to clear the guard floor first."

They crept up the stairs, which because they were stone, didn't creak. Fatima pointed to the guards' rooms and they swept through the rooms like Holy fire, Edgar, Sahar and Ranger first. No one escaped, no one gave warning. Fatima pointed out Abdul's room but he wasn't there. They went to the slaves' quarters and only slaves were on that floor. Sahar and Fatima told them to kneel and shut up; they had new Masters now. The women obeyed like sheep. They didn't find Beth, Hannah or Jìngyi.

"I thought you said they didn't bring the women down for branding until dawn?" Edgar asked quietly.

"They usually don't," Fatima said.

"You don't think they were branded early and Abdul took them somewhere already, do you? It's nearly dawn now."

"You said you informed them Schultz was coming today for Beth. Why would they take her, at least? Perhaps they brought them to the branding room early."

"Take us there."

"If Abdul is there, dart him," Sahar said. "I want to spend some time with him."

"You got it," Buck said, current holder of the dart gun.

Leaving a few men on watch, over the slaves, they went to the basement where the branding room was located. When Sahar cleared the corner, she saw Abdul about to put a branding iron to Beth's ass. She fired.

******