Free Sabre Six : File 51 by Jamie Fineran

shout out.
    “What’s the job, Boss?”
    “Good question, Stan! However, I will be clarifying everything when we land in Iraq. When I get the bigger picture, I will pass that on straight away. Ok, thank you, men. I will let you know more when I know more. Good evening, chaps.”
    I glanced over at Stan and the boys. They looked as concerned as I was, so as the boss I had better start preparing my men.
    “Gents, tomorrow at 06:00am outside for morning fitness! See you all there.”
    They flung their arms in the air. I stayed awake all night thinking about Hannah and Iraq; I had to tell her in my own way. I sat and wrote a letter, so I could hand it to her before I left.
     
    Dearest Hannah,
     
    You are more beautiful each time I see you. I am so proud knowing that you stand by my side. I feel warmth deep inside my soul wanting to hold you for each breath I take.
    I so love you, my dear; I love you so much.
    Hannah, I need you to be strong for me, and for all of us. I need you to hold me in your heart, for I will ret urn one day. I may not be in reach of your arms, but I will be forever in your heart.
    I will contact you as much as I can, my dear. You cannot write nor call, but I will be in contact, my angel, I give you my word.
    I love you with all my heart, my princess.
    Yours forever,
    Michael x
     
    We trained harder and harder each day. Our weap ons techniques were superb: we were the best fighting unit in the world! We practiced until we knew one another’s jobs. Each man needed to know how to send a report via the communication kit/radio. Each man on my team needed to be medically trained, and more importantly, each man needed to be able to pull the trigger and take out his target with no remorse. At last, our six days were up, and we all jumped on the bus and headed down to Brize Norton Air Force Base, near Oxford. The men seemed jolly, but I was just missing my dear Hannah.
    The crossing over seemed relatively calm. The flight attendant, a beautiful gay -looking male passed me a bottle of water. I thanked him and took a big gulp.
    “Not one bit of decent grub, Michael! It’s a liberty mate, a bloody liberty!”
    Nig was on one! The pilot told us to fasten our seatbelts for landing. When I looked out my window all I could see was orange desert; it looked fucking horrendous. The wheels touched down and we got off the plane via the rear entrance. I could smell the fumes from the engine, mingling with the warm, musky smell of Iraq; it tasted and smelt awful.
    We had landed at Al Asad Airbase, the second largest US air base in the country. It was huge, the biggest I’ve ever seen. Black Hawk helicopters on one side, fighter jets on the opposite side. There were more buildings over here in this one camp, than in the whole RAF put together. Later on that day, a 4x4 black pick-up drove us to the western edge of the runway.
    “Throw your kit over there , lads, and get some scoff down your necks.”
    “What we got?” asked Stan.
    “Range stew. You should think yourselves lucky! You were getting bugger all until I dug my claw in with HQ.”
    “T he tight bastards!”
    Now Stan had started moaning! I sat down, eating my stew. It was not bad actually. I plunked my arse against a few sand bags, rested my cup on the side and sat back listening to everyone talk of how they were going to be the first on the block to kill someone. It was almost comical, and then suddenly the guns started. Each man fell silent and the realism kicked in. Thirty minutes later we were called into a briefing.
    “Listen in, guys! Firstly, Welcome to Iraq: it’s lovely to see you all arriving in one piece. I hope you all got some scoff down you? As you can hear, men, this is a live operation and there will be casualties if we do not pull our finger out and get the job done professionally. Do you understand me, men?” We all nodded.
    “We will spend the first week acclimatizing. This means drills, drills, and more drills, chaps. Hydration is