• Published 23rd Apr 2013
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That Others May Live - CptBrony



Two USAF Pararescuemen must search through an unknown land to find their charge and make it back home alive.

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Recovery

Recovery

The team walked down the mountain dejected and angry. They had lost Blueblood at the last possible second, Aziz was dead, and if they weren’t quick about it, Malik might join him. The op was a total failure, nothing gained in any sense.

Duke and Frost took the front while Rashid, carrying Aziz, and Hamid, carrying Malik, trailed behind. If one of them were to fall, someone would have to catch them, and if both fell, both would need someone. The men had their weapons slung over their shoulders, as they didn’t believe that anything would come after them at this point that they couldn’t deal with more ammo-efficiently.

They had been walking for over an hour at a painfully slow pace, making sure that no one tripped or got hurt on the way down. The last thing they would need was for someone to get injured when carrying one injured teammate and one dead one.

Duke looked out forward and tried to gauge the original site of the compound, before the caves. It was too dark, so he dropped his nightvision for just a moment. What he saw was disheartening, but not unexpected; the compound was pretty much gone. There was rubble everywhere, very little movement, and probably not much in the way of life any more. He flipped his nightvision back up.

“Let’em know we’re coming,” Duke whispered to himself.

He pulled out his flare gun, checking the chamber to make sure there was a flare inside. Frost noticed him do this and decided to take his own out. While Frost got his out, Duke pointed his straight up into the sky and fired it, sending a bright red flare shooting up into the otherwise peaceful night sky. The light from the flare lit up the area around them for the brief moment it was close enough to do so, letting any survivors know that they were coming.

Frost didn’t fire his flare. “So Duke,” he said.

“Hm?” Duke replied.

“You think we got anyone left down there?” Frost asked, concerned.

Duke looked back at the rubble. “Not sure,” he said. “I sure hope so.”

“What if there are gryphons down there?” Fost asked. “We just told them we’re coming.”

Duke realized he was still carrying the flare gun and put it away. From over his shoulder, he put his MP7 back in his hand and checked the magazine, making sure there was plenty of ammo left. His sidearm was good, he remembered, and his knife was back in its sheath. He was ready for one more fight.

“If there are gryphons down there,” he said, staring intensely at the compound. “We kill ‘em all.”

Frost just nodded and kept on forward. Duke slung his weapon back over his shoulder and took a look back at Hamid and Rashid. They were looking exhausted, having to carry their casualties and all their gear. Feeling bad for them, Duke slowed down so that he would be next to them.

“I can take some of his gear off,” Duke suggested to Rashid as he moved next to him. “Make him lighter.”

“Please do, sir,” Rashid replied. “I am growing tired.”

Duke took most of the gear off of Aziz’s body and just tossed it aside, seeing no use in keeping a dead stallion’s gear, save for the mic. Once that was done, he moved over to Hamid to help take some of Malik’s gear off. He had to decide what was important on Malik, though, since the stallion was still alive.

Frost was still at the front of the group, getting a little farther than he would have liked. He opted to stop and wait for them to come by, taking a look around as he waited. There was nothing to look at, of course, but still. Maybe he would spot something useful.

Instead, he heard what sounded like wings flapping in the air. With a sigh, he turned in their direction to face what was most likely an enemy fighter, and sure enough, he spotted a gryphon closing the distance between them fast. Before he could pull up his HK416, though, the gryphon landed not ten feet from him.

“Human!” he shouted angrily. “You have caused great damage to our plans in this country!”

“Well, it wasn’t just me,” Frost replied. “I have friends who helped. We also weren’t the ones who blew your house to kingdom come.”

“It matters not!” the gryphon said aggressively. “You have caused us great trouble, and you must die for your insolence!”

The gryphon prepared to attack. Frost just sighed, wishing this night would just end, and raised his flare gun, still in hand. Before the gryphon could react, he fired his flare directly into its face, the ball of fire exploding on contact. The gryphon fell to the ground, clutching its face with its claws.

“I can’t imagine that feels good,” Frost commented, thinking about clutching your face with claws. The flare probably didn’t feel too good, either.

The others were just passing as Frost pulled his pistol and was about to fire. As they approached, no one said anything, just kept on walking. Frost had expected someone to say something, but it seemed no one cared about this gryphon, still screaming and clutching its face. Frost shrugged, then continued with his team. As he passed the gryphon, he pressed the barrel of his pistol into its head and fired off one round, silencing the gryphon’s screams.


They went the rest of the way to the compound and found themselves there in just over another hour. When they hit the compound, they hit a wall that they could have climbed over, given time. However, it was not the wisest thing to do when carrying casualties, so they went around to look for a gate of some kind. When they found it, Frost pulled up his rifle and shot out the lock, and they walked inside.

It was chaos, or at least it had been. The building was about gone, bodies strewn about. The dead they could see were just that; the dead they could see. Who knew how many were under the rubble? The number of gryphon casualties was, with any luck, a greater percentage than the casualties of Nedal’s assault troops, but nothing was looking too promising.

The team moved in, hoping to find any survivors in the wreckage. As they moved closer to the other side of the wreckage in their search, movement could be heard. At first, Duke had the team stop to listen, but from the thudding of hooves on the ground and the voices which Hamid and Rashid recognized, it was clear that there were still some stallions left. Duke gave the order to move forward and the team made its presence known.

“Assault troops, this is the SAR Team! Hold your weapons, were coming out!” Duke shouted. As they moved forward, Hamid shouted the command out in his language so that the assault troops would understand.

They walked out, weapons up just in case, and took in the scene. There were five assault troops walking about, all injured in various ways, tending to the dead. The men remembered there being twenty-five troops, but given that some were missing, they must have died on the way down. A couple of the remaining troops were limping fairly severely, two were fine, and one was sitting down, with what looked like a broken leg.

“What happened here?” Duke asked everyone as he walked in. None of them understood.

“Sir,” Rashid said, catching Duke’s attention. “Take and give Aziz’s translator. He won’t need it at any longer.” He sounded like he was in disbelief as he spoke.

Duke nodded and grabbed the translator from his fallen comrade. “Ask them who the highest-ranking soldier is here.”

“Yes sir,” Rashid replied. He shouted out the question in their language, to which one stallion responded by walking up to the team.

Duke addressed him. “Here,” he said, handing over the mic. The stallion took it and fixed it to his head.

“This will make it much easier,” he said, thankful for the translator.

“Quite.” Duke looked around at the scene. “What happened here? And who are you?”

“I am the lieutenant,” the stallion replied. “My name is long and difficult for foreigners to pronounce, so that will do. As for what happened,” the lieutenant looked about with Duke. “Everything went to Hell.”

“How so?” Duke asked. After looking over the group of assault troops again, he realized that Nedal wasn’t there. “And where did Nedal go?”

The lieutenant grimaced. “Same story,” he replied. “We fought through heavy resistance, losing a number of soldiers on the way down. When we got here, there were more than we expected Nedal refused to fall back, so we pressed on.”

“Sounds like something he would do,” Duke whispered to himself.

“We pushed them back, but they returned with a small army of soldiers. We didn’t stand a chance...” The lieutenant shook his head as he spoke.

“That doesn’t explain the building, though,” Duke said, wanting that explanation more than anything else. That collapse nearly killed his team.

“That was Nedal,” the lieutenant explained. “He had found a gas generator, I think. It’s the only explanation for the explosion that came when he tossed the explosive in with it.”

That colossal idiot,” Duke thought. He could have killed everyone with that little stunt.

“The explosion took out the building and sent most of us scattered throughout the yard. Nedal hit the wall...” He trailed off as he spoke, looking toward the wall nearby. “His spine was broken on impact. Didn’t make it.”

“Shit,” Duke replied. Nedal may have been his least favorite stallion that he met, but he didn’t deserve to die. Not in Duke’s mind. “But that’s what comes from foolish decisions.

“Yes,” the lieutenant said. “We have tried to gather as many of our fallen as we can, but some are trapped under the rubble. We don’t have the ability to get them out.”

Duke looked to the rubble. “I can guess why,” he said. To move some of those rocks would require muscle groups that the horses didn’t have. “Want me to take a crack at it?”

A smile briefly graced the lieutenant’s face. “Thank you,” he said. “We need to bury them within twenty-four hours of death. It is the most respectful way to handle the dead.”

Duke nodded and walked away, toward where his team was sitting. He had heard of the twenty-four hour in places back home. To prevent the nasty decomposition in hotter climates from spreading disease, people would bury their dead almost immediately. It became a customary thing in some places after a while.

Duke stopped by his team on his way to the rubble. “Rashid, Hamid, they’re burying the dead. You’ll probably want to do the same with Aziz.” Duke turned to Frost. “We need to comb the rubble for more bodies.” Frost frowned. “It’s gross, I know, but it needs to be done.”

Frost glanced at Malik as they set him down. “I’d help you, but Malik needs medical attention,” he said. “I have a few wraps and bandages with me, but I’ll need to improvise.”

Duke nodded understandingly. “Alright you stay here and try to fix him up. I’ll comb the rubble for bodies and intel.” He reached behind his back, under his plates. “Take my bandages. They’ll give you at least a little more to work with.”

“Thanks, boss,” Frost replied.

Duke left his partner to tend to Malik while he went to go through the rubble for more bodies. He wasn’t totally sure he would find much, though; some of the pieces of rubble were far too large for him to move. If he wanted them to move, he would need help, and if the seven stallions out there with the bodies were going to be spending time burying them, he would have to get it done on his own.

He walked up onto the rubble and started his search. The easiest places to start would be any areas where the rubble hadn’t piled up too high off the ground, giving him quick access to the ground, and possibly underneath the rubble. He had to be careful with those areas, though, because if they were supporting anything, he didn’t want the surprise of having several tons of building material falling down on him.

The first space he searched came up empty, not even a little passage under the rubble. He moved onto another area, further into the wreckage, and after moving some of the concrete, found a dead body. It was still mostly intact, about as intact as something could be after having several tons of concrete rubble bury. Duke picked it up and carried as much as he could out and to the stallions tending the dead.

When he returned, he found another area with no bodies, but it did have a small entrance to the area under the rubble. Duke couldn’t fit inside, but he lay down to take a look to see if there were any bodies; nothing. He stood up and moved on.

The next area he checked was a mostly-standing wall of concrete with a pile of rubble at the base. As Duke approached, he could hear rocks shifting and thought it to be safer to approach from the side, where nothing would roll onto him. As he approached, he listened more carefully for any sounds of danger. What he heard was entirely different.

“مساعدة، من فضلك.”

It wa as soldier, still alive in the wreckage. Duke instantly forgot the moving rocks and ran over to the pile. Through a hole, just about the size of his fist, he could spot the stallion inside. There was actually a small room, just enough for the stallion inside to move his forelegs around. He was trying, weakly, to push aside some of what had accumulated on top of him.

Duke reached his hand in. “Hang on!” he shouted. “I’ll get you out!”

He pulled his hand back and and started moving the rubble aside to increase the size of the hole. The pieces were precariously placed on top of one another, so he had to move numerous other pieces before he could actually address the hole. As he worked, he could hear the stallion inside speaking.

“أنا لا أريد أن أموت هنا،” he said, several times. His voice was growing extremely weak, and with the increased light from the enlarged hole, he could see the stallion’s face growing pale.

“Don’t talk, I’ll be right there!” Duke responded once, trying to get the stallion to preserve his strength.

He kept at the rubble, throwing pieces aside. It was incredibly exhausting work, work that Duke wouldn’t be able to keep up for long. The sweat was pouring down the man’s face, threatening to get into his eyes and blind him. He could smell it all over his face, and as the air circulated more and more into the rubble, the smell of blood grew stronger and stronger.

The hole was about two feet wide now. Duke was tired, but he had to keep going to get the soldier out of his rubble tomb. He looked inside, and saw that, if he could get the rubble off the stallion, he should be able to pull him out of the hole. He reached inside and grabbed the stallion’s hoof with his hand.

“I got you!” he shouted. “Hang on!”

The stallion gripped his hand back, however he managed to do that. At first, Duke tried to pull him out, but after a moment, he realized something. The grip that the stallion had on his hand wasn’t strong, nor was it a grip of determination. It was the kind of grip Duke had gotten once in Afghanistan, when the Army Special Forces soldier he was rescuing was about to bleed out.

“أخبر عائلتي حاربت جيدا،” the stallion said, starting to cry. “أخبر زوجتي أنني أحبها.”

Duke’s jaw clenched, and he just gripped the hoof as strongly as he could. He nodded to the stallion, memorizing the exact sound of what had been said so he could find out what it was later. Then, like a passing wind, the stallion’s grip faded away, and his head limped to the side.

Duke lowered his head in respect, then went back to work on getting the stallion out. He could spend more time now increasing the size of the hole, so he went about that. When he had it about one meter wide, he leaned in to pull the stallion out, thinking it would be difficult with the rubble on his legs.

It was easier than Duke expected, but that wasn’t a good thing. As the body started to slide out, Duke realized that the rubble was, in fact, ON his legs. The wounds to his head weren’t that severe, but that wasn’t what had killed him. Even if Duke had gotten him out, he would still have died, and probably a lot faster.

It was gruesome work, but Duke pulled out what he could and carried it back, utterly silent the whole way. He could feel his pants getting wet, the smell of sweat and blood overpowering his senses, just trying to get back without incident. He had done work like this plenty before, though, and he could do it again.

Duke arrived at the place for the dead and called out to the lieutenant. “Hey, I got one here!”

The lieutenant came running over. “Good, I will... take him... oh.” He looked rather perturbed by the sight in Duke’s arms. “Oh my.”

“Yeah,” Duke replied. “He was alive when I found him. Said, ‘أخبر عائلتي حاربت جيدا،’ and ‘أخبر زوجتي أنني أحبها،’.”

The lieutenant nodded solemnly. “Yes, I will take care of him. Give him to me.” Duke handed the body over onto the lieutenant’s back. “He wants you to tell his family that he fought well, and his wife that he loves her very much.”

“I don’t know where they are,” Duke replied. “But if you can get me that information, I’ll take care of it.” He had been tasked with this. He would get it done. Although, he had never had to do this before.

“I will write it down for you on our way back,” the lieutenant replied. “Or tell you, and you can write it down.”

“Got it.”

The lieutenant turned around to go to his troops. “If it isn’t too much trouble, could you go get the rest of him? We need to bury as much as we can.”

Duke nodded. “On it.”

Duke made his way back to the area of rubble that he found the stallion and went to retrieve the rest of the stallion. To get at it, he had to climb inside the rubble, and although he was uncomfortable with it, he went in and did it. He found the parts he was looking for and gingerly removed the rubble from them, then placed them at the entrance to his little cave. He was about to leave when something caught his eye.

There was very little space in the rubble cave, just about over a meter to stand and a meter and a half to either side to extend one’s legs. To the side, pinned under some rubble, there were several sheets of paper. Carefully, ready to escape if necessary, Duke moved the rubble aside to get at the papers.

What he picked up was interesting. The first paper he picked up had nothing on it except for a strange symbol. The symbol was a pair of wings, possibly gryphon, behind a wolf’s head. Under the wolf’s head, there was a pair of blades, though not curved or anything like that. They appeared to be falchions with serrated edges. Curious, Duke pocketed the symbol and looked at the other documents.

Some were in the language that Duke couldn’t understand and one was a map. It wasn’t just a map, though; it had scribbles and markings all over it. The map was of Saddle Arabia, and it looked like it contained supply and troop movements, if the symbols were anything to jude by. Duke grabbed it and held onto it as he exited the little rubble cave.

He carried everything back to the group, eager to lose the remains of the stallion. As soon as he arrived, one of the living soldiers took the body off his hands, leaving him to return to Frost. When he walked over, he saw Frost hunched over Malik, whispering something.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he assured the now-conscious Malik. “They aren’t permanent. You’ll be out for a time, but you’ll come back just as strong.”

Malik nodded weakly on the ground. “Yes sir,” he replied, sounding at least a little thankful that he would make it just fine.

Duke walked up just as Frost stood. “How is he?” Duke asked, already aware of the answer.

“He’s doing alright,” Frost said. He walked up to Duke and leaned in. “But if we don’t get him serious aid soon, his wounds might not heal up properly.”

“Thought so,” Duke said. “We already fired off our flares, alerting the response troops that we’re done.” That was a part of the plan they hadn’t gone over with Nedal. “They’ll arrive soon, given how much time has already passed. In the meantime, I think you and I can just sit and wait.”

Frost nodded and let himself fall onto his rear. “Say, boss, why didn’t we have those other troops here to help us out?” Frost asked. “I never questioned it, but now that shit happened, I have to.”

“They aren’t exactly combat troops,” Duke replied. “I tried to get more from Sauri, but he declined. I convinced him to give us some basic support personnel, but they aren’t trained for fighting, just delivering supplies and such to troops on the lines.”

“Ah,” Frost said.

They sat down next to Malik, who was already asleep again, and talked. They talked about various things; the stallion in the rubble and how Duke was going to visit the family, Duke’s family back home, the friends they had made in the Pipeline and other instances, and the map Duke had found. There were no solid conclusion to anything, as the men were too exhausted and beaten to analyze anything in depth at the moment. They also talked about Nedal and their SAR team.

“The building collapse was Nedal,” Duke explained. “He tossed one of these,” he said, holding out his explosive from Sauri. “Into a room with a gas generator. Killed almost everyone present, including him.”

Frost looked at the ground. “Well,” he started with a sigh. “I... just... There are no words.”

Duke nodded. “Yeah.” He turned to look out at the stallions. “We almost lost our lives in there because of him. We barely managed to get out, but we ended up in the fire as opposed to the frying pan we were already in.”

Frost nodded, then went silent for a bit. When he spoke again, he sounded more curious than caring.

“What’ll happen to the SAR Team?” he asked. “We aren’t sticking around any longer.”

Duke hadn’t thought about it mch. “Well, I guess we’ll have to hand off leadership to Rashid and Hamid,” he said. “They proved some value as leaders, at least in my book. They’ll have to take over the team and get more soldiers for it, and train them on their own.”

“That sounds good,” Frost said. “Once we’re done here, it won’t be our concern any more.”

“Amen to that,” Duke replied. They just wanted to get out of Saddle Arabia.

As the men continued their sparse conversation, the stallions continued to work with their dead, and in the distance, one could hear a small army of hooves stomping into the ground as they approached the site. The night had been long and hard, for everyone, and nothing would feel better than to get back to their homes and residences and get a good night’s sleep.

Though, as the men would always be sure to remember, the dead never get to come home.

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