Twenty minutes later on Highway 1, three Humvees rolled to a stop at a Marine checkpoint 2,500 hundred meters from the cloverleaf intersection. Jersey barricades filled with sand were positioned every 100 meters along the road in a configuration that created a simple maze. It forced vehicles attempting to leave the city to slow down and navigate their way through it before reaching the Marines and their mounted heavy weapons, which included a .50-caliber Browning machine gun and a Mk 19 (called a “Mark 19”) 40mm grenade launcher.
On the east side of the road was an aluminum building with three sides and a roof. The combat engineers had erected the structure, which housed the communications equipment the Marines required to maintain contact with their headquarters in Camp Fallujah. It also had electricity and fed that power to spotlights aimed in the direction of the city.
Multiple checkpoints like this one were located around the city of Fallujah in order to prevent insurgents from fleeing before the upcoming offensive.
Captain West smiled inside the lead vehicle as it stopped. The checkpoint provided the perfect cover for the first phase of the mission. Any insurgents observing the vehicles approach would assume they were either resupplying or relieving the Marines manning the checkpoint.
And that’s if they can even see past the lights. I’m not taking any chances, though.
Captain West exited the vehicle and approached the senior Marine, a tough-looking African-American staff sergeant who stood in the middle of the road. He’d obviously been expecting their arrival.
Captain West reached him as he nodded his head in respect since salutes were forbidden by the Marine Corps in any combat area of operations.
The staff sergeant said, “Sir, I was told you’d be staging here for a sensitive mission, not to ask any questions, and to await further details from you. How can we help?”
Captain West pulled the staff sergeant over to his vehicle and explained the mission as briefly as possible. He used the map he’d prepared for the operation.
To the casual observer, it appeared almost as if he were a wayward tourist, lost and asking directions. When he finished, the staff sergeant looked at him, nodded again, and turned toward three Marines standing behind him.
“Detail, in the shack!” he said. The three Marines rapidly walked to the aluminum structure. The staff sergeant followed.
Moments later, the lights at the checkpoint went dark, the gigantic spotlight bulbs glowing in the blackness of the Iraqi night. The lights remained off as the staff sergeant yelled, “What the fuck is going on in there, Jackson? What the hell happened? Do I have to do every mother-loving thing myself? I asked you to repair the radio, not shut off the fucking power. For God’s sake!”
For the next forty-five seconds, he screamed at the Marines inside. His loud display served as a diversion for the fifteen Force Reconnaissance Marines who used the darkness to mask their movements as they exited the three vehicles on the right side of the road. They quickly moved to the back of the aluminum structure and linked up with Captain West.
Within ten seconds, he had full accountability of his men. They jogged fifty meters back down the east side of Highway 1, crossed back over the paved surface, and moved off into the black night toward their objective.
Captain West guided them from the front, and his team of hardened warriors followed, the only sound the soft thud-thud-thud of weather-worn combat boots and the occasional rattle of ammunition-filled magazines. They were long gone before the lights of the checkpoint turned back on.
Just before 2200 local hours, they reached their final staging position in a shallow wadi five hundred meters south of the compound.
As Captain West conferred with Gunny Quick, Lieutenant Williams, and Staff Sergeant Lopez, the remaining Marines provided security on the lip of the shallow ditch.
They double- and triple-checked their gear, acutely aware that in Iraq the slightest mistake could be the difference between life and death. A misplaced magazine or loose snap could easily get one killed in the heat of combat.
Captain West looked at his watch.
“Kyle, you know what you have to do, but not until twenty-three hundred on the dot. I’ll do a final comms check with you at twenty-two fifty. At twenty-three zero two, Gunny and I will infiltrate the southeastern entrance with Sergeant Avery and his team. We hit the first building, hopefully with complete tactical surprise since any bad guys should be distracted by your fire. If we find the target, we’ll grab him and leave the same way we entered while you continue with the small arms fire. We should be in and out in less than five minutes. As soon as we’re clear, I’ll contact you on the radio. Any questions?”
Again, there were none. “I got it, sir. They’ll never know what hit them,” Lieutenant Williams said as he stood up.
Captain West looked up at the confident Marine officer. He had complete faith in his abilities to execute a direct action mission but also knew operations never went as smoothly as planned, especially in circumstances like these.
“Kyle.” The use of the Marine’s first name caused him to look back at his commanding officer. “No fucking around. We keep it clean, and we keep it short. We’re on our own out here. You understand?”
Lieutenant Williams heard the concern in Captain West’s voice and said, “No worries, boss.” Then he added, “That’s why I have Lopez here . . . to keep me on the straight and narrow.” He smiled broadly. “We got this one, sir. We’ll be in position and ready to rock ’n’ roll.”
Lieutenant Williams turned away and moved off to gather his Marines and confirm the plan one last time. Captain West turned to Gunny Quick.
“Gunny, I seriously do not like this one fucking bit. There’s something about it that just feels out of whack.”
“I know, sir, but the lieutenant is sharp, and we’re not too bad ourselves. We’ll be fine.”
Lieutenant Williams finished briefing his men. They stood and waited for him to move out. Before he did, he looked back at Captain West one last time, nodded, turned away, and disappeared into the night, his Marines in trace behind him. Captain West watched as the shifting shadows swallowed them one by one.