#Al Asad Airbase

[warningsine]

ANBAR, Iraq, Oct 19 (Reuters) - Drones and rockets targeted two military bases housing U.S. forces in Iraq on Thursday, sources and officials said, the latest in a series of attacks after Iraqi militants warned Washington against intervening to support Israel against Hamas in Gaza.

Rockets and drones were fired at Ain al-Asad air base, which hosts U.S. and other international forces in western Iraq, and multiple blasts were heard inside the base, two security sources said.

The Iraqi military said it closed the area around the base and started a search operation. It was not clear yet whether the attacks caused casualties or damage, said the sources.

Rockets hit another military base hosting U.S. forces near Baghdad's international airport, Iraqi police said on Thursday, without providing further details.

A U.S. official, speaking on the condition of anonymity, said two rockets had been fired at U.S. forces at the airport. One was intercepted and the other hit an empty storage facility and there were no casualties, the official added.

The latest attacks take to four in the past 24 hours targeting Iraqi military bases that hosts U.S. forces in Iraq.

Last week, Iraqi armed groups aligned with Iran threatened to target U.S. interests with missiles and drones if Washington intervened to support Israel against Hamas in Gaza following the deadly incursions by Hamas militants that killed 1,400 people.

U.S. military forces in Iraq were targeted on Wednesday in two separate drone attacks, with one causing minor injuries to a small number of troops even though the U.S. military managed to intercept the armed drone.

The United States has 2,500 troops in Iraq, and 900 more in neighbouring Syria, on a mission to advise and assist local forces in combating Islamic State, which in 2014 seized swathes of territory in both countries.

Ain al-Asad air base is located in the western Anbar province.

[zvaigzdelasas]

[LBCI is Lebanese Private Media]

Three drones that crossed the border from Lebanon fell in Mount Meron in the Upper Galilee region, and a fourth was intercepted, the Israeli Channel 12 claimed.

Meanwhile, in western Iraq, two explosions were heard near the Ain al-Asad airbase, which houses US troops, a security source confirmed to Al Jazeera

5 Aug 24

[nocternalrandomness]

438th Air Expeditionary Group A-10 on the flight line at Al Asad Airbase, Iraq - Nov 1999

[67-romeo]

Capt. Heni, attached to Charlie Company, 3-82 General Support Aviation Battalion, 82nd Combat Aviation Brigade, 82nd Airborne Division, stands for portraits on Al Asad Airbase, Iraq, May 01, 2024. The 82nd Combat Aviation Brigade deployed in support of Operation Inherent Resolve. (photo by Sgt. Vincent Levelev)

[darkmaga-retard]

Mohammad Marandi, a senior member of Iran's nuclear negotiating team, has threatened to "wipe out" every American military base in the Middle East if the United States were to join Israel in an attack on Iran.

This threat follows the recent assassination of Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh in Tehran, which Iran claims is a provocation that justifies a large-scale offensive against Israel.

Marandi, an advisor to Iran's nuclear negotiating team, stated in an interview, "If the United States gets involved in any attack on Iran, have no doubt that the U.S. will be wiped out in Iraq and the U.S. bases in the Persian Gulf region will be destroyed. The regimes that host these U.S. bases will also face destruction."

Iran's regional proxies in Yemen and Iraq have a history of targeting U.S. positions across the Middle East, with hundreds of strikes in recent years, particularly escalating after the Hamas attack on October 7. (Related: U.S. to boost military presence in Middle East following rocket attack on Al-Asad Airbase in Iraq.)

Following Haniyeh's killing, the Biden administration has been intensifying diplomatic efforts to mitigate Iran's response. U.S. officials remain cautiously optimistic about the effectiveness of their mediation. However, Iranian officials are signaling a forthcoming missile and rocket bombardment of Israel.

Marandi warned: "Iran has no option but to strike Israel even though we do not want a regional war. So, the smart thing for the Americans is to be very careful about their actions."

In preparation for a potential strike, Iranian state media reported that the military has begun deploying "radar, missile and drone capabilities" throughout the country.

[captain-price-unofficially]

April 2003. SASR and their long-range patrol vehicles at Al-Asad Airbase in western Iraq.

[usafphantom2]

AC-130 Ghostrider Gunship Strikes Iranian-Backed Militia In Iraq

This marks the fourth U.S. airstrike against Iranian-backed militias since Oct. 26 and the first on a target in Iraq.

Howard AltmanPUBLISHED Nov 21, 2023 12:42 PM EST

AC-130J attacked a target in iraq after attacks on US bases there.

USAF

A U.S. Air Force AC-130J Ghostrider gunship struck a vehicle Tuesday near Baghdad involved in recent attacks on the Al-Asad airbase in Iraq, a U.S. official told The War Zone Tuesday. It was the first time the U.S. has struck a target in Iraq since the outbreak of the Israel-Hamas war Oct. 7.

At least one member of the Iranian-backed Kataib Hezbollah militia was killed in the attack, said the official, speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss operational details. The official did specify what role the vehicle or occupants had in the attacks on Al-Asad.

A U.S. military official told The War Zone that "at least one member of a hostile force belonging to an Iranian-backed militia" was killed when the U.S. responded to an attack on Al Asad today that injured several U.S. troops and caused minor damage to infrastructure.

It was the 65th such attack on U.S. forces in Iraq and Syria since Oct. 17, according to the Pentagon. It was also the third time, including Oct. 21 and Oct. 17, that U.S. troops have been injured by attacks on Al Asad, according to the Pentagon, which said the base has struck at least 15 times by drones and rockets since Oct. 17.

The U.S. military official, also speaking on condition of anonymity for the same reasons, could not immediately say how many troops were injured or offer details about what kind of injuries. That official would not say how the U.S. strike was carried out nor what role the vehicle or occupants played in the attack on Al Asad.

This marks the fourth known U.S. airstrike against Iranian-backed militias since Oct. 26 and the first in Iraq, as well as the first by a Ghostrider. The previous three attacks - Nov. 12, Nov. 8 and Oct. 26 - were carried out by Air Force fighters on targets in Syria.

Open source trackers began reporting seeing a Ghostrider flying patterns over west Baghdad last night. The fact that it was doing so with its transponder on was very peculiar.

The latest attack on Al Asad was claimed by a loose-knit group of those militias calling itself the Islamic Resistance. There were also three reported over the weekend, two in Syria and one in Iraq.

The group said one of the fighters associated with it, Fadil Al-Maksusi, was killed. He belonged to Kataib Hezbollah and was killed in the airstrike, Atlas News reported.

The Pentagon says the attacks on U.S. forces since Oct. 17 have been fairly evenly split, with 31 in Iraq and 34 in Syria. They have been carried out "by a mix of one-way attack drones and rockets," a U.S. official said. "Most of these attacks were successfully disrupted by our military. Most failed to reach their targets, thanks to our robust defenses."

Still, more than 60 troops have been injured in these attacks, including the ones in the most recent attack on Al Asad. Deputy Pentagon Press Secretary Sabrina Singh told reporters Nov. 16. About 27 troops were evaluated for traumatic brain injury and 32 for non-serious injuries and all have returned to duty, she said.

In January 2020, Al Asad was struck by 11 Iranian Qiam-1 short-range ballistic missiles had hit Al Asad in response to an attack that killed Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps leader Qassam Soleimani.

As for the platform involved here, the AC-130J, it's Air Force Special Operations Command's flying arsenal ship equipped with 30mm Bushmaster chain gun, a 105mm Howitzer and a wide variety of air-to-ground guided weapons. Its sensor and communications suite, as well as its long loitering time and surgical air-to-ground arsenal, make it extremely capable when it comes to finding and attacking targets of opportunity in lower threat airspace, especially at night. You can read more about the latest AC-130J developments here and here.

This is a developing story. We will update it when there is more news to report about the attack.

Contact the author: howard@thewarzone.com

[nicklloydnow]

“Kremlin propagandist Vladimir Solovyov warned of an incoming new world war that, in his claims, would see the West pitted against Muslims all over the world, whom Russia would back with the supply of weapons.

(…)

"They delivered ATACMS. We should deliver everything America's enemies need," Solovyov can be heard saying in an excerpt shared (and translated) on YouTube by the Russian Media Monitor, an independent project monitoring Russian news media and Kremlin propaganda.

(…)

He added: "You want to kill Russian people? you are delivering weapons—you are hoping to get away with this? Supply any weapons—North Korea, Syria, or anyone else needs, anyone who is our ally or a situational ally in this war—give them everything so that not one American soldier on foreign territory as an occupant...they should not feel safe!

Solovyov then said that a new world war is coming. "Do you even understand what will happen if a global jihad will start?" he said, adding that nobody can really grasp what would be the impact of a religious war, though he said that "NATO critters and its allies" would be to blame.”

“One of the officials said the missiles were fired by Iranian-backed Houthi militants, who are engaged in an ongoing conflict in Yemen. Approximately 2-3 missiles were intercepted, according to the second official.

Later Thursday Pentagon press secretary Brig. Gen. Pat Ryder confirmed that the USS Carney shot down three land attack missiles as well as several drones that were launched by Iran-backed Houthi forces in Yemen.

(…)

The incident was one of a series in recent days with US bases being targeted by drones in Syria and Iraq amid increasing tensions in the region as the war between Israel and Hamas continues.

(…)

On Wednesday, two drones targeted the al-Tanf garrison in Syria, where US and anti-ISIS coalition forces are based, Ryder said. One drone was engaged and destroyed, and another drone impacted the base resulting in minor injuries to coalition forces, Ryder said.

(…)

On Tuesday, US forces defended against three drones near US and coalition forces in Iraq, Ryder said. Two of the drones targeted the al-Asad airbase, which resulted in minor injuries to coalition forces. And in northern Iraq near Bashur airbase, US forces engaged and destroyed a drone, resulting in no injuries or damage, Ryder said.

(…)

Asked whether all of these attacks are tied to the ongoing war between Israel and Hamas, and anger in the region over the US’ support for Israel, Ryder said the US is still assessing the attacks.

“Our focus is going to be continuing to ensure we are deterring a potential broader regional conflict,” he said.”

[fatal-iistic]

Ties That Bind (Pt. 1)

Summary: Blair Moore is a war machine, recruited by John Price as part of special operative Task Force 141. What she doesn’t expect in her second chance at serving her country and the greater good is someone to break down the walls she’s built.

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Original Character

Words: 5.4k

Warnings: Swearing, War, Civilian/Child death, Mentions of gore/injury, honestly war just sucks

March 2nd, 2020

An airfield outside of Kutaisi, Georgia

There's seldom situations where Blair Moore catches herself with second thoughts.

But standing across the globe from her home in Boston, sporting an uniform on a foreign military's airbase begins to rouse an inkling of doubt in the woman's gut. 

It's a brisk spring day in the Northern foothills of Imereti. The land is ancient. Blair studies the rolling hills of the Georgian countryside, wondering if these were the hills once trekked upon by Jason and his Argonauts in search of the Golden Fleece. Or were these hills once the site of battles choreographed by the ancient Romans and Persians as they sought to commandeer every furlong of this green earth. 

Georgia's history in the past century, alone, is riddled with the Russian Revolution and the subsequent fall of the Soviet Union. Not to mention persistent tensions in the last decade. Even last year, with Barkov's decades-long tyranny in the Middle East and subsequent battle waged in his warehouse in Borjomi marks more demerits on Georgia's timeline. 

And now another leader of terror seems to find his way into the sanctity of this battle-torn country.

Free time is cherishable for most, but dreaded by Blair. She fills the vacancy with a stroll around the outskirts of the base. With sleeves and direct sunlight, the early afternoon is enjoyable. Taking in the sights of the rolling hills of Georgian geography, Blair almost relinquishes the cumbersome burden of duty and the implications of the mission at hand.

A cool breeze burrows through Blair's layers. She hunkers her chin closer to her chest, slipping her nose under the collar of her uniform to contain her warmth. Mentally, she reminds herself to put on another layer before they depart the Kutaisi base and head seventy kilometers north. 

It really is too late to back out, Blair, a voice remarks in her head. More exasperatedly it adds, Damn you, Kate and John, for convincing me back into this 'greater good' scheme. 

She glances down at her watch, frowning. News reached that the flight of SAS Marines from the United Kingdom had been delayed due to technical problems. But as the time elapses and now her comrades are a full sixty minutes late, Blair feels the simmer of anxiety burrow deep within her gut.

The longer she waits, the more reasons she accumulates as to how stupid she was. The sooner they reach Tsari, the sooner they can apprehend Al-Asad. 

I could've truly adopted civilian life. I was so close.

Feet keep pacing her around the base, until a low hum rings in Blair's ears. She directs her eyes to the western skyline, spotting a small dot traveling from the horizon. She doesn't need a closer observation to know it's a plane inbound for this small airstrip. And aboard is her colleagues. More specifically, Sergeant John Mactavish. 

During her CIA days, it was asinine to leave things up to mystery. Every aspect of everything needed to be drawn into the light, mulled over until every last detail was eviscerated from the system. The devil was in the details. Miiss one factor, and the entire chemistry could implode. 141 is different, so Blair tells herself. Captain Price isn’t the CIA; he isn’t the American justice system. While her roles seem to parallel, Blair lies that it’s a different world, a different life (the skeletons in her closet from her CIA ops could remain lodged in their hiding place behind a big wooden door, deadbolted shut). 

Captain Price trusts Sergeant Mactavish, so Blair leaves it at that. The rest would come into form by itself. No background checks. No picking apart his records before even seeing him in the flesh.

The transport lands and taxis. 

Blair immediately makes a line for the plane as the passengers exit. On sight alone, the woman can pick the sergeant from the lower-ranked soldiers. The sides of his head shaved (Blair doesn't recall mohawks being back in style, but she forces that criticism from her mind). He's a brute of a man, yet his demeanor sings something entirely different; he's laid-back, friendly, even charming if Blair gives herself the allowance to regard it. 

"Sergeant Mactavish?" She questions, arching an eyebrow. 

"Reporting." His accent is thick. It's a voice that would make any woman in her right mind swoon, but Blair shovels that admiration out of the way and sticks strictly to business.

"Moore. Blair. Call me Rogue."

"Call me Soap." He smiles broadly.

There's a story behind every moniker. Blair flashes Soap a bemused glance before focusing on the terrain before her, hastily leading the sergeant. They both walk along the airstrip toward the main building. 

What the hell kind of name is Soap? She wonders but anchors her attention back to the objective at hand.

"Commander Beridze of the Georgian Defence Forces will join us soon for a full brief. It looks like we're headed toward the mountains,” Blair informs. 

Stepping out of the wind and into the admin building, Blair leads Soap to the briefing room. 

"What do you know about the village?" Soap queries, his eyes fixated on the view from the conference room's windows. 

“Tsari?” 

“That’s where we’re headin’, no?” 

The woman nods, offering a shrug in response to his previous question. "Not much. It's a pit stop for people heading to the mountains. A pretty quiet place from what I can tell – a perfect place to hunker down if you're an internationally wanted terrorist.” By instinct, her spine straightens, and she lifts her chin as if reporting to a senior officer. Everything about her screams formality and professionalism. It's a habit beaten into her since her Army days, a feature she can't corrode out of her system. Soap seems indifferent, lax to almost a flaw. 

"Damn shame they come to places like this," Soap comments, shoulders anchoring. "The terrorists."

Lips curve into a deepened frown. "Hiding in plain sight can be pretty treacherous. Sometimes even the bad guys want peace and quiet," Blair offers perspective. She'd chased dozens of "bad guys" in various reaches of the earth. Through bustling, civilian-laden streets. Into remote terrains. They picked their poison, and unfortunately, it was never consistent.

"Captain Price says ya were Green Berets and CIA," Soap mentions after a contemplative pause. Cold blue eyes rest upon Blair, making her shift a bit. 

"Were," she confirms. The word feels like rusted iron on her tongue. There had once been a time when Lieutenant Blair Moore, an American hero and Patriot, wore her status with pride. She’d garnered numerous accolades, things that became nothing more than items consuming space in her closet back at home. She’d met with some of the highest-ranking officials in numerous countries – hell, even slept with them. 

And now? Blair isn’t quite sure where she fits on the status quo.

She’s lost just about every credential and honor worth a damn. The Army wouldn’t take her back, and the CIA had been the ones to part ways. The only reason Blair has the liberty she does now is because of Kate Laswell and the reality is, John Price had been the catalyst for that orchestration.

Decommissioned dogs don’t typically make it out of the pound.

The last two years prior were spent floating from country to country. Wherever Kilito or his aide-de-camp, Liidia, sent her. Despite her skills, Blair was treated like a lesser contractor than some of Kilito’s seniors, despite the obvious skill gap. So she’d left Jasuri Company, and found an apartment in Boston. She’d figure out a new life. A civilian life. She’d join a running club, maybe finally run the Boston Marathon as she’d planned on years prior. 

No more military. No more contracting. No more guns, covert affairs, and bloodshed on a daily.

Within two months, Kate and John found her. You’ll die as you lived, Blair Moore – hadn’t that been something her father had reckoned years ago? 

(Maybe she should’ve said no.)

Shaking off the webs in her brain, Blair grounds herself back in reality. Her mouth feels parched at the anticipation of answering the lingering question – why did you leave it all?

Not of my own volition. 

Would the fact make Soap trust her less?

"Always dreamed of bein' James Bond as a wee lad," Soap chuckles to himself, "as sharp as I look inna suit and tie, I'll keep my fatigues."

He doesn't even entertain the idea of delving into Blair's past turmoil and begging the question of her reconciliation at John Price's hands.

Blair snorts, more relieved that anything.  "I did more wadin' through dust and mud or showin' up to grimy bars than strutting into upscale soirees."

"Ah, yer breaking my heart, lieutenant. A dream deferred," Soap complains, dramatically placing a hand over his left chest.

She smiles sympathetically. Shaking her head, stray strands of gold hair tickle pink-touched cheeks. He's humorous and exudes an aura of respite. It's like a breath of crisp air in the stale heat of military formalities and concise mission objections. 

Pausing to gaze up at Soap, she finds that he's orbited closer to the broad window exposing the hilly terrain outside. She steps around the conference table to stand parallel to the sergeant, bracing her breath in his presence as if the moment is frail. 

Why did she feel like she was handling a rigged explosive? Her life had been a grandeur charade around people – around her father, around her peers, around her superiors, around drug lords, mafia kings, and leaders of organized terror. But she falters beside Soap, questioning what voodoo is being implemented to cause her to waver.

Vigorously shoveling those thoughts aside, Blair tries to fill the spaces in between with tedious small talk. Anything to silence the badgering thoughts. 

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Blair prompts.

Soap chuckles, realizing how much time elapses in his enrapture with the Georgian landscape.  "Definitely different from home," he agrees with a nod.

"We're not in Kansas anymore," Blair murmurs. She shoots a glance at Soap. "Wizard of Oz–"

"Dorothy and Toto," Soap interjects. He laughs, warm, genuine, a rumbling baritone that spikes a sensation of warmth in Blair's system. "It's not some American secret. I saw it as a kid. The monkeys scared me."

Blair's nose wrinkles as a little laugh surpass her. A hue of pink flushes into her cheeks. "I'm sorry…that was a dumb assumption…"

"No offense taken, lieutenant," Soap responds. A wry smile creases his lips. 

The door of the conference room swings open, shocking both soldiers from their lighthearted exchange. A man dressed in his tailored, unwrinkled military uniform steps in with three others. Both Soap and Blair salute the leading officer, the man Blair recognized from the pictures as Commander Beridze.

"Lieutenant, Sergeant," he greets. 

"Sir," both Soap and Blair chorus. Reflexively. 

One of Beridze's lackeys seats himself and pulls open a laptop. Within moments, all hands are situating themselves at the table.

Along the wall, the projection screen boots to life. They make haste in covering the mission brief, picking apart the details of the foothill village of Tsari and Al-Asad's confirmed presence in the last forty-eight hours. SAS Marines would cover the bulk of the forces sent in, with a small squad of Georgian soldiers to provide navigation and liaison between them and the civilians. 

Law enforcement would escort the SAS to the presumed holding place of al-Asad, the Marines would take it from there. Blair watches the brief unfold with a brewing boil in her gut. Terrorists always found the most obscure places or the most civilian-friendly places. Both were just as horrible to sweep.

As the brief wraps up, Blair promptly asks the one unanswered question.  "Should we or should we not be prepared to sustain hostile civilian casualties, General?" Blair intterogates, her jaw clenching.

"Intel is not confirmed or denied the social sway of Al-Asad and AQ forces, other than it's definitively neutral, and they are giving him refugee," Commander Beridze replies. His words seem rehearsed, as if he’d stood in the mirror this morning with a level gaze and recited this line twenty times over. "We would rate the potential high, though, Lieutenant. The prime minister and the defense General are already aware and prepared for the potential for civilian casualties."

She only nods, but the gloomy expression still festers on her face. 

On the outside, every military official and high-up authority leader wants zero casualties and civilian safety. It markets well, empathy. But Blair knows better – they'd accept an entire bloodbath if it were a means to an end if only the people of their nation wouldn't roll under the terrible massacre of themselves. The lower the collateral body count, the easier to pass the operation off to the public as necessary damages.

She doesn't voice her discontent any further. It was all the more reason they had to find al-Asad and bring him in. So that more civilians weren't lodged in the crosshairs between a terrorist and the world's superpowers. 

Soap and Blair stride out of the conference room together. Once they're out of earshot of Commander Beridze and his personnel, Blair lets out a low growl.

"High potential, my ass," Blair grumbles. 

"Huh?" Soap comes in second fiddle, out of the loop of what riled Blair up.

"That building we're raiding is a residential building, Soap," she breathes, her voice airy with a lilt of defeat. "Commander Beridze conveniently dodged that detail."

"We're walkin' right into people's homes…" Soap states, disappointment saturating his tone.

"Not to mention the entire village," Blair breathes.

They both don't traverse the politics beyond that statement. They're soldiers, first and foremost. They don't get to weigh and balance the semantics, especially for a foreign country. Al-Asad's presence was more burdensome than that of a homegrown civilian. A treacherous classification, damned and doomed as it is, both soldiers had discovered early in their tenures that it wasn't within their allotted estate to question those ethics. 

(Do your job. Do it well. Don't ask questions.

Hell, it was a bloody concept Blair had drilled into her cranium by her very own father in the fundamental years of her life.)

They know it, they know it, they know it.

Pavlov'd over the years to accept the circumstance, to relinquish the exposition of human details. Follow orders. For the greater good. Do what has to be done. De Oppresso Liber. 

That engineered thought process eclipses the overpowering sentiments of humanity. Soap and Blair share a reserved, somewhat mournful exchange of glances in the hall of base command. A vortex of gloom roams Blair's saxony blue eyes, her rigid professionalism betrayed by atom-sized fringes of humanity and compassion. Neither soldier trespasses to that vicinity in their minds, somehow orbiting back to their rigid formalities as war machines, as soldiers under oath.

There is a lack of real estate to presume over the matter. It’s too far above their pay grade to contemplate morals and fuss over the particularities. Mutely, either soldier accedes to the same determination; the objective has been made clear, and they were here to follow orders. There are soldiers to brief and equipment to put together. They were paid to find Al-Asad, not ponder ethics like Plato or Aristotle. 

It's late afternoon when their convoy reaches the village of Tsari. The sun sinks deep into the western horizon, giving them only a few precious hours of daylight remaining. The single law enforcement officer of Tsari leads them to a three-story apartment building just from the center block of town. 

Simplicity, Blair notes. She’s sanctioned off and swept buildings a hundred times over. They put men at every exit and storm into the building. Exactly like their brief. They go door to door, sweeping each unit. 

Things along the first floor are complacent. Shocked families. Crying babies. Sobbing women. No insurgents. No weapons. No Al-Asad. The scene eerily unearths memories from Blair’s tenure with the Army in the Middle East. She remembers storming homes then, under the Iraqi sun. Women had always navigated towards her, flinging themselves at her pleading out of fear (Private Mikels had shot and killed one that did so, assuming the innocence that he thought the woman was maneuvering to assault and kill Blair. An innocence maintained and preserved by commanding officers). Even in her uniform, nursing an assault rifle in her arms, Blair’s image had been a feeble entity of hope when in pale comparison to her male comrades.

Perhaps that’s why it was best she was the one at the lead bellowing out orders to the civilians.

“Hands up. Cooperate. We are looking for Khaled Al-Asad,” Blair barks in Georgian to the residents. They flinch with the coarseness of her voice, obeying commands with teary eyes and vibrating limbs. 

The teams diverge in the stairwell. One to the second floor. Another to the third. Soap goes second, and Blair goes third.

The team breaches the third floor ahead of Blair when shouts and gunfire ring out. A mix of English shock and Arabic threats slice through the tension-deep air. Her heart hurtles into her throat. She charges up the stairwell, rounding the corner to see one of the privates hit the ground from the bullets spraying out one of the units. She sidles against the wall for protection, peaking into the unit during a moment of reprieve to fire several rounds at a man fumbling to reload his weapon.

Silence suspends the atmosphere, disrupted only by the panting breaths of adrenaline-sodden soldiers and the click of magazines being reloaded. Blair holds the oxygen in her lungs, stepping towards the open apartment door. Gun cocked, finger tempted over the hairpin trigger. She manuevers quickly across the threshold to remain in the hall but now has full detail of the room beyond the doorframe. Like owl eyes, Blair studies the area beyond the door. When she determines the room within is safe, she steps defensively into the apartment unit.

Eyes scrutinize every corner, gun pointing quickly to each crevice that she studies. Kicking the door open to the bedroom, Blair takes account of every inch before her muscles relax. Cleared. No tangos.  

She strides back towards the hall, stepping hastily over the dead AQ fighter who made his grave on the living room floor. There’s a pool of scarlet forming underneath his mortal wounds, seeping and dripping from his frame. A circular stain mars the dirty off-white carpet of someone’s home. There's a stuffed rabbit a few feet away. A kids' book at the foot of the couch. 

Pausing, she nudges the open book with the toe of her boot. It's a Dr. Seuss counting book. 

Immediately, Blair can smell the pages of her own Dr. Seuss books while she peruses them while Emilia Moore cleaned the kitchen. Grass with a faint hint of vanilla against the walls of her sinuses.  Her mother would sing various learning songs to her daughters, long red hair teasing her light cheeks. 

"Red fish, blue fish, buckle my shoe," Emilia would purposely recite improperly, eliciting a giggle from Blair.

"That's not how it goes!" Blair would critique with an amused squeal and a scrunched nose.

Emilia would laugh. A vibrato that still breaks through Blair's conscience, warm like sunlight through an open window. Enveloping like a mother's embrace.

They had all been children. Emilia, even then, mid-twenties, and sold on the dream of a righteous man and a picket fence fantasy. But that picket fence had become a chain link fortress, with a stockpile of guns and ammunition. A home constructed into a fortress. The concept makes bile churn in her gut. Her brain feels like it’s being overpowered by hot static.

These people, the civilians of this little mountain town, live the same volatile reality that Blair had once been indoctrinated into. Lassoed into a reality they hadn't requested. 

Reality tastes sour as Blair rips herself from her memories. Her abdomen tightens as she fights nausea crawling through her system. 

"Tangos spotted on the third floor," Blair calls into the comm. The report half to refocus her own ambling mind. "Requesting back up."

"You don't say. Gettin' noisy up there, huh Rogue? Sergeant MacTavish remarks over the radio. Her jaw seizes. Annoyance seeped into the fibers of her frame. Not all of them could have an easy time like MacTavish seemed to be having on the second floor.

She turns towards the soldiers. 

"Sweep the floor! Move!" Blair commands, signaling the other Marines. 

Two Marines approach the second door down the hall, bracing themselves on either side of the doorframe. As one is about to check the doorknob, bullets crack through the door's wood. Either soldier reels back against the wall, avoiding crossfire from the enemies within. Just then, a fuse is lit in the entirety of the third floor. Doors further down the hall burst open, AQ soldiers utilizing the open structures as cover to begin firing savagely and haphazardly at the team of Marines.

Blair ducks into the first unit, leaning out to fire rounds at the soldiers. She fells two of them before having to slink back into cover. Blood roars in her ears. There’s a myriad of shouts in Arabic and English as either side screams commands to one other.

Despite the rampant pace of the situation, time seems to slick by as if trapped in molasses. Suspended above the moving timeline as if in demented levitation. Blair can almost anticipate each flutter of her galloping heart, breaths cautious and planned. Eyes dart from each moving shadow to the next. She reflexively pulls the trigger on each maneuvering enemy.

One, two, buckle my shoe…

Somewhere through the fog of chaos, Blair swears she hears MacTavish announce enemy presence below the second floor. She has no allowance to fret too intensely when she’s already locking teeth with enemies on this floor like rabid animals. MacTavish and his team would have to hold fast with their own objective or wait until the Third Floor Team has cleared out their own set of problems. 

Three, four, knock on the door…

The clear, systematic process of clearing each apartment unit manifests. Blair mostly keeps in the hallway, sights trained on unopened doors and the shadows beyond. It's hard to perceive anything above the stomping of combat boots trooping in the emptied units, but Blair keenly tries to pick up the readying of rifles or the unhinging of the doors farther down. Her gut won't subside until every inch of this floor is scrubbed clear of enemies.

Five, six, pick up sticks…

The Marines flood into the units. Unit after unit, the chorus of "clear" denotes an objective met.

Seven, eight, lay them straight…

The gunfire has died down as Blair enters the final unit. It's relatively empty, save some aged furniture and a few toys in the living room. She holds her breath as she sweeps through the suite. Two Marines file in behind her. Blair rounds into the bedroom, rifle rising as she sees the silhouette of a person.

The first thing she perceives is the weapon in their hands. Adrenaline hammers against Blair's senses.

Her eyesight focuses. Immediately she relaxes. It's a boy, no more than eight or nine. Her finger remains trained on her trigger, but she lowers her weapon. The boy wields a shotgun, his little frame trembling. 

He's terrified. Clutching the gun like a lifeline. He'd probably been told to shoot anyone who enters, but there was an immense burden of hesitation. 

"Do not fire," Blair commands the men behind her. She rocks on the balls of her feet, kneeling to appear less intimidating despite her array of tactical gear. 

She's speaking in Georgian, using a calm voice as if trying to steady a wild animal. The boy trembles, hands shaking. He must've impulsively pulled the trigger, but his aim was nowhere pointed near Blair. It strikes the wall across the building, splintering wood. Blair doesn't even flinch, eyes not leaving the boy.

"He's hostile!" One of the other Marines shouts. 

"Stand down!" Blair commands, but it's too late. A shot rings out. The boy falls to the ground, a bullet piercing through his chest. 

She is at the boy's side instantly, cradling the adolescent with trembling hands. He was dead before he hit the ground. He didn't suffer much, if at all. Blair's head bows, and a sobbing shutter passes through her body. She does her best to mask it, catching what might be the ghost of that sob in her chest.

Nine, ten, begin again…

No more counting games or nursery rhymes. No more bleary-eyed innocence. Both Blair and this boy had laid that concept to rest in the primitive years of their lives. Except Blair had to keep living in this war. Perhaps the boy had been spared by this (the notion molders like a rancid stab wound). 

Rage seethes from within Blair's gut as she lowers the boy back onto the floorboards and rises to her feet. She swings around to face the other soldiers. Fingers curl. Jaw fastens like a vice grip. 

"Fuck, corporal!" Blair snarls, grabbing him by his collar. She slams him against the wall, the momentum stealing the breath from the shocked soldier. He makes a breathless squeak, eyes wider than the moon. "The fuck was that?"

"He fired at you!" The soldier defends. 

"I had the situation managed!"

The other two soldiers scramble, hands wrapping around her shoulders in an attempt to pry Blair off of Cpl. Taylor. She clings to the corporal, still entranced by a fit of rage, managing to throw one elbow into the nose of the private, demanding her to release Taylor. In the squirmish, Blair still has her hands folded around Taylor’s trachea, the man’s fingernails digging into her wrists as he tries to pluck himself free.

The commotion lasts only briefly before Sergeant MacTavish rushes into the room. He shoulders hastily past the bleeding private and the second soldier, wedging himself into the fray between Blair and Cpl. Taylor. 

"Hey, hey, hey," Soap intercepts, prying the corporal out of Blair's grasp. "Stand down, both of you!"

"You fuckin' crazy?" Cpl Taylor spits at Blair. 

Soap glares at the corporal. "You watch yer language around yer superior, corporal."

"She fuckin' attacked me."

"You disobeyed a direct order," Soap counters.

Blair doesn't waste her energy formulating her rebuttal. She pivots and storms out of the room.

The remainder of the building is swept, the AQ soldiers long dispatched by the time Soap finds time allotted to seek out Blair. She's made herself scarce after the incident with the young Georgian boy, which perhaps is most agreeable considering the Marines seemed less forgiving of her snapped temper than John MacTavish. 

Sergeant Allens says he saw her wandering outside shortly after the incident. So outside Soap goes.

It’s evening, and the sun has set as Soap disembarks from the residential building. He needs not search far, finding Blair standing on the lawn across the building parking lot. Her arms are linked above her head, propping her gaze into the sky. Even from afar, she looks fatigued and a touch nauseous. 

Maybe she's trying to number the constellations above her. Or maybe she's praying to an entity above, a plea for forgiveness for failing the boy upstairs (though that likelihood was low, as Blair stopped believing in gods and their greater influence after Carl Moore). Soap approaches evidently, dragging his boots all the ground so that Blair could interpret his approach. He stands alongside her, following her eyes with his own. 

"Children raised as soldiers…" Blair murmurs, face twisting. "Fucking hell."

"A sad byproduct of all this," Soap adds wistfully, motioning at the air around them. "They don't deserve this."

A frigid gust of mountain air buffets the two soldiers. Blair's ponytail, though mostly tucked underneath her helmet, fights with the wind. 

"You speak Georgian, Moore?"

"I speak a lot of things."

"Private Breaux said you were talking to the boy. What did you say to him?"

Blair stares off. Admitting what she had exchanged with the young boy still poisons her throat. She’d failed the boy, and even more, she was bearing her shortcomings now. "I told him I knew he was afraid,” Blair confesses, “and I told him I wanted to help him. I would protect him, but he needed to put the gun down."

"How did you know he wouldn't try to shoot you?"

She hadn't known with certainty. Other than relying on what she suspected. 

"He hesitated. He wanted a break in the narrative he had written for him," Blair explains. Her chest tightens. "Reprieve from the war he's been born into."

That boy needed counting books, and stuffed animals, and dreams about being an astronaut or a mountain climber. He didn’t need a gun in hand and the fear that the world was out to get him and his family. He needed innocence, and that had already been stripped from him. And now he’d be buried in a grave six feet under – another “sad byproduct” of this war. 

"You've dealt a lot with that, huh?" Soap frowns.

The remark isn't meant to impede itself into Blair's flesh, serrated and agonizing. How could anybody know the stark reality of Blair's upbringing? It wasn't something she advertised. Hell, if anything, it's something Blair continuously attempts to bury.

She was made a soldier. Preached pious bullshit that her father had crafted and narrated because it fit the story he desired to see. These kids in these remote homes were birthed into similar perspectives, fueled even more by the poverty and war-torn homes they were run out of.

"All too well…" Blair breathes, the air exiting her lungs like a remorseful confession. She feels her skin itch, the yearning desire to admit the vulgarity of her heritage and upbringing. She doesn't want her personal feelings to seem like they collude with her better judgment, but even after years of being at war, Blair can't perform the debridement of those emotions from her cranium.

Soap rests a hand on her shoulder. A gesture of consolation. Of companionship. Blair's spine stiffens at the motion, but she refrains from acting thankless. 

"I'm sorry."

Her blue eyes traverse to meet his gaze. There's a deluge of warmth that fills Blair's bloodstream. She's spent so much time alone, stripped of camaraderie and brotherhood, that the mere notion nearly blindsides the weathered warrior. She blinks, too stunned to speak. Her neural pathways short-circuit, sparks spilling over her cortices and setting her senses alight.

Grappling at anything at the moment, Blair defaults only to what is her baseline, factory settings. Posture tightens. Chin lifts. It's the skeleton bones of standing at attention. The only thing Blair can do when shocked by her own emotions. And then comes the crass sarcasm. Blair gives a solemn laugh, a sound that betrays Blair, conveying her brokenness.

 "Don't be sorry," she counters. "There's nothing glorious about what we do, Soap."

"Doesn't mean we still don't bleed for what we see and deal with," Soap reasons. 

Boots thud against the ground behind the two sergeants. Both Blair and Soap take their eyes off the steppes to address the approaching soldier.

"Lieutenant Moore, Sergeant Mactavish, we have something you ought to see."

The duo flashes a gaze between them, following the soldier to a unit on the second floor of the building. Bullet holes scar the front door, and one of the AQ soldiers lies dead near the kitchen stove. Blair scans the unit, following where the other soldiers indicate their need for attention.

Inside a bedroom is a large mahogany desk, the refined craftsmanship ruined by evident bullet wounds sustained in the Marines and AQ's exchange. Papers are scattered about the tabletop, an inscribed map underneath the heap of intel. There's a laptop computer broken apart on the desk, the screen cracked while the motherboard sits exposed from blunt force trauma committed to the keyboard and body. It's a mess, obviously left in haste.

Blair reaches to grab at the haphazardly placed papers. A frown shifts across her lips.

"Al-Asad isn't here…but he was….these are plans; look at the details," Blair observes, sifting through the papers. Soap steps to her side, brushing his fingers to separate a stack of papers. Everything is written in Arabic, and while Blair is proficient in the language, reading it takes her a moment longer.

"Can you make much sense of it?" Soap prompts.

"Some…" Blair mutters, squinting at the papers.

She points at the emblem stamped on the papers, and the location circled on the map. Verdansk, Kastovia.

"Something's about to go down in Kastovia."

[andrewtheprophet]

Iraqi Horn Injures Americans: Daniel 8 https://andrewtheprophetcom.wordpress.com/2024/08/23/iraqi-horn-injures-americans-daniel-8/

[sa7abnews]

Drone strikes US airbase in Syria – Reuters

New Post has been published on https://sa7ab.info/2024/08/16/drone-strikes-us-airbase-in-syria-reuters/

Drone strikes US airbase in Syria – Reuters

This is the second attack in recent days against American forces in the Middle East amid rising tensions

US troops at Rumalyn Landing Zone in northeastern Syria have been attacked by a drone, Reuters reported on Saturday, citing a US defense official. This is the second attack on US forces in the Middle East in the past week, amid growing tensions between Iran and Israel. Several US service members were reportedly wounded in a rocket strike on Al-Asad Airbase in Iraq on Monday. “Initial reports do not indicate any injuries, however medical evaluations are ongoing. We are currently conducting a damage assessment,” Reuters reported, citing an unnamed US defense official on the Syrian drone strike. Rumalyn Landing Zone hosts US and US-led coalition troops in the region. According to footage shared online, the drone strike may have led to a fire at the facility.

Read more

US troops wounded in attack on Iraq base – media

Washington is expecting more attacks, after some of its troops were wounded in the attack on Al-Asad Airbase, Axios wrote on Monday. This comes as Israel has been bracing for an attack from Iran, following the assassination of Hamas political bureau chief Ismail Haniyeh in Tehran last week. While both the militant group and the Iranian leadership have blamed Israel for the killing, the Jewish state has neither confirmed nor denied any involvement West Jerusalem vowed to eliminate the Hamas leadership after the group’s October 7 attack on Israel, in which around 1,200 people were killed and more than 250 were taken hostage.

READ MORE: US braces for more attacks on its Middle East forces – Axios

The previous flare-up between Tehran and West Jerusalem ended with a large-scale missile and drone attack launched by Iran against Israel in April. The Jewish state’s air defenses at the time were significantly aided by US, UK, and other regional allies.

[zvaigzdelasas]

The Arab Weekly - US embassy in Baghdad struck with mortars as militia attacks in Iraq and Syria escalate

Approximately seven mortar rounds landed in the US Embassy compound in Baghdad during an attack Friday, a US military official told Reuters, in what appeared to be the largest attack of its kind in recent memory. US forces in Iraq and Syria were also targeted with rockets and drones at least five more times on Friday; three times at separate bases in Syria, and twice at the Ain al-Asad airbase west of Baghdad, a different US defence official said. The attacks were the most recorded against US forces in the region in a single day since mid-October, when Iran-aligned militias started targeting US assets in Iraq and Syria over Washington’s backing of Israel in its war against Hamas in Gaza.

US Defence Secretary Lloyd Austin, in a call with Iraq’s Prime Minister Mohammed Shiaa Al-Sudani, condemned the attacks and singled out Iran-aligned armed groups Kataib Hezbollah and Harakat Hezbollah al Nujaba for the recent targetting of US personnel. “The United States reserves the right to respond decisively against those groups,” Austin told Sudani, according to a Pentagon statement summarising the call. The embassy attack marked the first time it had been fired on in more than a year, apparently widening the range of targets. Dozens of military bases housing US forces have been attacked, increasing fears of a broadening regional conflict.

No group [yet] claimed responsibility[...]

The US military official, speaking on the condition of anonymity, left open the possibility that more projectiles were fired at the embassy compound but did not land within it. The US officials said Friday’s attacks caused no injuries, and the embassy attack caused very minor damage.[...]

State media said the attack damaged the headquarters of an Iraqi security agency. Sheikh Ali Damoush, a senior official in the Lebanese group Hezbollah, said in a Friday sermon that attacks by Iran-aligned groups across the Middle East aim to apply pressure for a halt to Israel’s offensive in the Gaza Strip. He did not refer specifically to Friday’s attack. US forces in Iraq and Syria have been attacked at least 84 times since October 17, the defense official said.

The US has responded with a series of strikes that have killed at least 15 militants in Iraq and up to seven in Syria. The State Department called on the Iraqi security forces to immediately investigate and arrest the perpetrators. “The many Iran-aligned militias that operate freely in Iraq threaten the security and stability of Iraq, our personnel, and our partners in the region,” State Department spokesperson Matthew Miller said in a statement.

“The Iraqi government has repeatedly committed to protect diplomatic missions as well as U.S. military personnel, who are present in the country at Iraq’s invitation. This is non-negotiable, as is our right to self-defence,” Miller added.[...]

[Prime Minister Sudani] said that undermining Iraq’s stability, reputation and targeting places Iraq has committed to protect were acts of terrorism. The head of militia Kata’ib Sayyid al-Shuhada, one of the main factions that has been targeting US forces in the region, said in a social media post that he rejected “stopping or easing operations” while “Zionist crimes continue in Gaza.”

The powerful Iraqi militia Kataeb Hezbollah said on Saturday that the rocket attack on the US embassy in Baghdad was “just the beginning of a new phase of fighting” and threatened to continue “operations against the US occupation” in Iraq.[...]

Kataeb Hezbollah, classified as a terrorist group by Washington, is part of the Islamic Resistance of Iraq militia, which has claimed more than 80 attacks against US posts in Iraq and Syria since the outbreak of the war in Gaza. However, the attack on the US embassy marked a serious escalation of these actions.

9 Dec 23

[head-post]

US to send additional ships, aircraft to Middle East, Austin said

The Pentagon will send destroyers, missile cruisers with air defence systems and fighter jets to the Middle East, US Defence Secretary Lloyd Austin said following US-Australian talks.

Austin made the announcement at a press conference with Secretary of State Antony Blinken at the US Naval Academy in Annapolis, Massachusetts. The statement was followed by meetings with Australian Foreign Minister Penny Wong and Defence Minister Richard Marles to discuss increased military cooperation and diplomatic efforts in the Asia-Pacific region.

Austin said:

To maintain our carrier strike group presence in the Middle East, I have ordered the USS Abraham Lincoln to replace the USS Theodore Roosevelt later this month.  I’ve also ordered more cruisers and destroyers capable of ballistic missile defense to the region, and I’ve ordered the deployment of another fighter squadron to the Middle East to reinforce our defensive air support capabilities there.

The Pentagon chief noted that the changing US force posture in the region will expand the wide range of assets available to the US and Washington is prepared to rapidly deploy assets and respond quickly to evolving threats.

Austin also added that a strike on the Al-Asad airbase in western Iraq injured US soldiers and warned that Washington would not allow strikes on its own troops.

The US sent ships to the Middle East shortly after the war between Israel and the Palestinian group Hamas began. In late July 2024, Hamas politburo chief Ismail Haniyeh and senior pro-Iranian Hezbollah commander Fuad Shukr were assassinated in Tehran and Beirut. Israel admitted involvement only in Shukr’s murder.

Iran and Hezbollah have threatened a harsh response to Israel over the killings of Shukr and Haniyeh. Yemen’s Houthis have also announced plans to strike Israel in conjunction with Iran.

Read more HERE

[67-romeo]

Capt. Heni, attached to Charlie Company, 3-82 General Support Aviation Battalion, 82nd Combat Aviation Brigade, 82nd Airborne Division, stands for portraits on Al Asad Airbase, Iraq, May 01, 2024. The 82nd Combat Aviation Brigade deployed in support of Operation Inherent Resolve. (photo by Sgt. Vincent Levelev)

[darkmaga-retard]

American defense officials are bracing for a potential escalation in the Middle East after a rocket attack injured several U.S. personnel at a military base in Iraq.

The attack has prompted U.S. Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin to announce the deployment of additional military assets to the region, including fighter jets, carrier strike groups, and ballistic missile defense-capable cruisers and destroyers.

That attack involved the use of Soviet-era Katyusha rockets that successfully targeted the joint American-Iraqi-controlled Al-Asad Airbase in western Iraq. Seven U.S. personnel were injured in the attack.

This heightened military posture comes amid rising tensions as Iran threatens retaliation against Israel for the recent assassination of Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh in Tehran. (Related: Iranian analyst warns of harsher response to Haniyeh's killing than previous strike on Israel.)

An Iraqi military source reported that two rockets landed inside the base, while others hit a nearby village without causing significant damage.

Pro-Iranian armed groups in the region have been known to target U.S. bases during periods of heightened tension, though no group has claimed responsibility for the latest attack. The rocket fire at the U.S. base is part of a broader pattern of attacks on American interests in the region.

The U.S. response includes an increase in military capabilities to bolster defense and support for its regional allies. The U.S. claims this decision to increase its military presence in the Middle East is aimed at defending its forces and bolstering regional stability.