Improv is Danger

The cadre (instructors) at the Special Forces Qualifications course had always told me that improvising, no matter what you're improvising with, was always a danger. If you go grocery shopping without a list, you're going to end up buying more than you should. If you are a motivational speaker, and you don’t prepare anything before your big speech, you could end up not having enough content for the speech. 

In this case, I’m a Special Forces soldier about to assault a building without a plan and probably going to die. That is exactly what I was facing. Standing in front of an abandoned factory, three stories tall, with a dozen armed hostiles. 

Most people looked at the Special Forces as if they were some kind of super-ninjas. That wasn’t true, we were normal-looking people. Aside from some specified tattoos, nobody would be able to tell the difference between us and a civilian. Some of us are huge, some are small, some are skinny, some are short and some are tall. I was 6 feet, in great shape, but wasn’t huge. 

Almost 100 percent of the time, Special Forces soldiers were in teams. It wasn’t like the movies, we weren’t one-man armies. It wasn’t like Rambo or John Wick, or any character played by Liam Neeson. 

As a team, the special forces detachments were incredibly effective. Nobody could be the best at everything in a field, but special forces were pretty close. All members of the team were experts with their weapons, their systems, and their strategies. With individuals specialized in weapons systems, medicine, communication, and explosives. But, I didn’t have my team with me, I was alone. 

Back to the situation at hand. I was armed with an M4A1 Carbine capable of automatic fire, an Mk-27 with a suppressor, a black combat knife, and a civilian-grade bulletproof vest. Now, that might seem like good firepower, but for one man to kill 12 armed soldiers with a pistol and rifle, was going to be difficult. They would likely have bulletproof vests as well, and as an international terrorist organization, they would likely have more advanced weapons systems than me. 

I was currently crouched down in the side alley, kneeling next to a dumpster, double-checking my gear. Normally, I would never wait this long to check my gear, but I had gotten there in a hurry.  This terrorist organization had kidnapped my wife and teenage son. 

Now, I’m sure you're wondering why terrorists would kidnap my son and wife out of all people. But, the answer is simple, revenge. When I discovered the ransom note at my house upon returning from deployment, I was shocked. To give some backstory…

During my time in eastern Iraq, my team and I discovered a small terrorist cell, occupying a small village. We had assumed the cell was part of the usual terrorist groups occupying that region of Iraq, but we had been wrong. This cell was much better armed. 

They had all brand new weapons, and a stockpile of explosives and their soldiers were much better trained. We had stumbled into a small cell of a much larger terrorist organization that was based in Italy. We managed to neutralize the group, and free the village, taking their computers, weapons, and reconnaissance information.

After moving the intel up the chain of command, they did some digging and a few weeks after we had left the village, we discovered it was an organization we had never even heard of, that was amazingly well-funded and very secretive. 

As it turns out, the terrorists were using the village we had liberated, as a base of operations for reconnaissance on U.S troop movements, to warn other terrorist groups in the area. 

Long story short, we broke down and dismantled their operations in that region, and probably cost the organization a lot of money. The second my team had finished our last mission of dismantling the organization in that region, the organization somehow discovered our identities. And apparently, this organization does not know how to forgive and forget. And as the Team Sergeant of the team that took down part of their organization, they held me responsible. 

That pretty much sums up my situation, they kidnapped my wife and son a few days before I returned home from deployment. The ransom note wasn’t a ransom note, but a threat. It said that more than a dozen soldiers were guarding my family so as not to attempt a rescue. It gave me the location they were being held, a ransom amount of 1.2 million dollars which is what I had cost them in Iraq, and a warning that if I told anyone my family would be killed. 

I did not doubt their ability to tell if I had called the police, this organization had found me thousands of miles away from Iraq, in Washington, and kidnapped my family in the middle of a big city. My only option was to try and rescue them myself. 

I shook my head, clearing my thoughts and looking at my weapons. I had two extra 30-round mags for my M4, and three extra clips for my pistol.  

I slid the mags into little slots on my vest, and slid the rifle strap over my head, letting it hang down. I drew my pistol from a hip holster and prepared to go into the building. 

I knew I would have to move fast if I didn’t want my family to die. Moving silently, I mounted the dumpster and looked into the window to the factory. The middle of the factory was a massive open space with rows of big machines, an elevator on one side, and a staircase on the other. I set my sights on the staircase, ignoring the elevator due to too many risk factors. 

I slid my finger along the base of the window, finding the edge, I slowly raised it with one hand, and the window slid upward with a quiet scraping sound. I looked from both corners not seeing or hearing anyone near me, I stepped over the windowsill, and made the six-foot drop to the ground, landing with a slight thud. I raised my pistol again and moved carefully through the maze of machines. 

I turned a corner and saw a soldier there holding an AK-style rifle. It took me less than a second to process it, and fire three shots at him. He dropped to the ground, shaken by the bullets that were buried into the vest he was wearing. He raised his gun to shoot at me, but I fired a headshot, killing him. I walked over to him, and retrieved two grenades from his belt, clipping them onto mine. 

I mentally added them to my short list of weapons. One grenade was a flashbang, and the other was an M-67 frag grenade. After a few minutes, I made it to the edge of the rows of machines and had a clear view of the stairs. 

I walked over stopping as I noticed two soldiers standing at the landing, leading to the second set of stairs. I turned a corner, right by the mouth of the stairs. Before I had turned the corner, I noticed the mounted flamethrower between the two of them. That was going to be a problem. 

 I waited for a second, realizing they hadn't seen me. I decided to take a chance, and I spun around the corner, and fired my clip up the stairs, hitting both of them in the chest, legs, and head, the head shots killing them. 

I switched mags and moved up the stairs carefully. I took the coroner quickly, making sure the rest of the stairs were clear. I turned and faced the two bodies. They both had a pistol and rifle on them. They also each had a Frag grenade. 

I dragged the bodies down the stairs and set them ten feet in front of the base of the stairs, piling the other man I had killed on top. I unloaded all of their guns and set their grenades down in front of them. 

I wasn’t entirely sure if my improvised plan would work, but I knew blindly going upstairs was not an option. I went to the landing and lifted the very heavy flamethrower in front of the bodies. Turning it to the bodies I lit them on fire and then turned the flamethrower to the pile of ammo I had set in front of them. 

I pulled my pack off my shoulders and pulled out a spool of thin clear cord. I tied the string on the trigger of the flame thrower and backed into the corner. I holstered my pistol and aimed my rifle toward the stairs. 

Less than a minute later three soldiers ran down the stairs. They spread out, looking around the floor and the pile of burning bodies. They hadn’t noticed me hiding behind one of the machines. I peeked my head out, and fired a shot from my rifle, hitting one of them in the thigh. He dropped to the ground screaming. His companions looked around the room, noticing the barely visible string leading to me. I pulled the cord, and the flame thrower went off onto the grenades and ammo, the heat caused the guns and grenades to go off. 

I hadn’t planned the bullets or grenades to hit them all I needed was for them to be caught off guard. I stepped out, and they were both momentarily disoriented. I switched my rifle to automatic and shot both several times and then the man on the ground, groaning in pain. 

I had now alerted the other six soldiers in the building that I was there, so I moved quickly. Assuming they were keeping my family on the top floor, I ignored the second level and moved toward the third. As I reached the third floor I had to dive back down the stairs, as a belt-fed machine gun down the hallway opened fire. 

I landed on my side, probably bruising it, I got to my feet, and aimed my rifle up the stairs. From what I had seen one man was using the belt-fed gun, and two men to either side of him peeking their guns out through two opposite doorways. 

“Surrender now, or I will radio for my men to kill your family.” A voice yelled from the top of the stairs. I pulled off my flash grenade and flung it into the hallway. “Grenade,” A voice yelled out. 

I covered my eyes and ears, still hearing the bang from the hallway. I charged up the stairs, the man who had been at the machine gun had dove into the other room with one of the men in the hallway. 

I tossed my frag grenade into the room, closed the door, spun around, and shot the other man as he came out of the second door. Assuming the Frag grenade hadn’t killed them, I grabbed the belt-fed machine gun and unloaded it into the door, ripping holes in the wall, door, doorframe, and floor. 

I pulled out my pistol and kicked what was left of the door open, seeing the two dead men on the ground, I checked the other room. 

I heard boots coming down a connecting hallway, so after I cleared the hallway, I got behind the machine gun. I aimed it down the other end of the hallway, and the second the man turned the corner to back his companions up, I fired the gun. Firing at a rate of 700 rounds per second, he was immediately killed and knocked off his feet. 

I proceeded down the hallway, feeling the adrenaline rushing through my body. I turned a corner and saw a man standing in front of a doorway. He raised his rifle but I was faster, shooting him with my pistol several times, his gun going off and sending bullets through the ceiling, ad right above my head. I breathed out a sigh of relief, two guys left. 

I opened the door and stayed to one side of the hallway. Inside the room, was my family standing with their hands tied. One terrorist was behind them, one in front. I shot the guy in front at an angle to make sure I wouldn’t somehow hit my daily, but I paused as the other raised a gun to my wife's head. 

“Stop right there. Give me your gun,” he yelled, pushing his gun into her head. My wife and son's eyes were filled with panic. I holstered my pistol and took my rifle off my shoulder, holding it sideways by the barrel. 

I walked slowly towards him and looked at my son's panicked eyes. The guy holding the gun to wife's head definitely wasn’t in charge, he looked barely eighteen and terrified. I thought of my options instantly deciding what to do. 

I winked at my son and tossed the rifle at the man's head. My son tackled my wife to the side even with his hands tied. The terrorist was so stressed he wasn’t thinking and raised his hands to block my thrown rifle. I unholstered my pistol and shot him in the chest. 

I lowered my gun, breathing out heavily. I pulled out my knife and cut my wife and son's ropes. They both embraced me, and I hugged them back, immeasurably glad to see them again. 

They were both in tears, as was I at this point. I’m sure they both had many questions, but right now we were all just enjoying the moment. I stepped back and said, “We need to get out of here. I can answer all of your questions later, I just need to make sure we're safe.”

“Wait dad, I have a really important question,” My son said. I nodded at him waiting. “Since we got kidnapped, can we have pizza for dinner?” he asked smiling. I smiled back at him, glad that was high on his priority list.