Strike Force

Suddenly the entire front of the bank office was blasted apart by rocket fire, sending clouds of brick, stone, and glass inside. One soldier standing beside Buzhazi caught the full brunt of the explosion, his lifeless body plowing into the Iranian general. Buzhazi’s vision was gone — the only thing that told him he was still alive was the terrible ringing in his ears from the blast and the feel of the young soldier’s blood and tissue covering his face. Someone lifted him free of the wreckage and body parts. The soldier asked something, but Buzhazi couldn’t hear him, so he just nodded and patted his arm to tell him he was okay.

A few minutes later, with the volume on the radio turned up all the way, Buzhazi was able to hear the reports coming in from his battalion: “Lion Two is about a half-block away. Are you all right, One? Anyone there?”

“I’m okay, Two,” Buzhazi radioed. “One casualty so far. Lion Three, report.”

“Lion Three doesn’t have you in sight, but…stand by…” There was another loud explosion not far away, with more screaming and panicked citizens running in every direction.

“Lion Three, what’s your status?” No reply.

“This is Two. Looks like Three got hit pretty bad.”

“Copy. Lion Four.” No reply. “Lion Four, report.” Still no reply. “Lion Five.” Again, no response. “Lion Four and Five, key your mikes if you can hear me.” Buzhazi thought he heard the coded clicks on his radio, but he wasn’t sure if it was real or just wishful thinking.

“One, this is Two, armored personnel carriers advancing from the west,” the leader of Second Company reported. “I see one…no, two, two of them. Traffic is slowing them now…One, I see dismounts! Six…eight…ten dismounts, approaching each side of the street.”

“Copy, Two.” Buzhazi turned to the men behind him. “Listen up, men. Who do I have behind me?”

“Lieutenant al-Tabas, sir,” a terrified, high-pitched voice responded. “I’ve got Sergeant Ardakan and most of the members of Kush platoon with me.”

“Weapon status, Lieutenant? Anyone with a grenade launcher and some HE rounds?”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence; then, Tabas and Ardakan moved beside him, crouching low. The sergeant was carrying an AK-47 assault rifle along with a “blooper,” a thirty-millimeter grenade launcher, and he wore a bandolier of grenades. The lieutenant carried an AK-74 assault rifle. “What do you need, sir?” Tabas asked.

“I need that launcher and your grenades, Sergeant,” Buzhazi said. Ardakan looked confused, but gave the general his “blooper” and grenades. Buzhazi loaded a smoke round into the launcher.

“Sergeant, I need some cover fire.”

“Are you all right, sir?”

Buzhazi’s vision was still a bit blurry but there was no time to wait any longer. “I’m fine, Sergeant. Lieutenant, there are two armored personnel carriers off to the right down the street, with dismounts heading our way on the sidewalk on both sides of the street. I’m going to lay down some smoke, and then you and I are going to head down the street in between the cars and trucks and see if we can get close to those armored vehicles. They may be our way out of here.”

“I’ll go, General,” Ardakan said. “When was the last time you led such an assault?”

“Negative, Sergeant, I’m doing this,” Buzhazi insisted. “When we pop the smoke, I need you and your men to engage the dismounts and get them before they get us, then follow us down the street so we can take those vehicles. If we don’t make it, I need you to link up with Lion Two — I think he’s a half-block to the east.” He handed the sergeant his radio. “After that, try to link up with as many of the battalion as you can and get out. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Lieutenant, stay down and under cover in between the disabled cars as much as you can. I’ll be firing the grenade launcher, so you cover me the best you can. When we get to the armored vehicles, keep an eye out for security gunners in the turret or on the passenger side. I’ll pop smoke and frags on them, and then we’ll try to take them. Ready?” The lieutenant gurgled something that vaguely sounded like a “yes.”

There were a hundred other things to think about, a thousand other things to consider, and he hadn’t asked anyone for their advice — there was simply no time. The lieutenant looked young enough to be his grandson. He knew he shouldn’t think about that, but he still said, “Let’s go, son,” as he raised his grenade launcher and headed off toward the exit.

He almost instantly regretted not getting more advice on a plan. The second Buzhazi stuck his head out to look for the Pasdaran dismounts, he was met with a hail of gunfire that made him cry out in surprise and nearly fall over backward into the bank lobby, thankful he wasn’t hit. They were a lot closer than he anticipated! He heard more gunfire and saw a few of his men, probably from Second Company, advancing across the avenue, trying to distract the Pasdaran infantrymen.