25 Assault
The sergeant major said, “Sir. The village has morning prayers just at sunrise. We saw them today.”
Captain al-Khud looked at Pru. “That’s our chance. We’ll lift in before dawn, move into position and attack once they’ve started salat al-fajr, morning prayer. As soldiers, we are excused during an operation.”
“I really couldn’t see us all doing morning prayer together,” Pru grinned.
The force wound up its exercises in the late afternoon and settled down to prepare for the assault and get as much sleep as possible.
They turned out in the dark of the early morning. Everyone wore body armor and carried packs with extra water and rations. Their normal armament of slug-throwers was set aside; instead, they were armed with slug pistols and stunners. The rules of engagement were to stun all males immediately and then any women who showed resistance. The pistols were to be used as a last resort.
Bravo Force was similarly equipped, but without slug pistols, at Pru’s insistence. Since their primary objective was the women and children, she didn’t want any mistakes. The sergeant major agreed and had the women troopers who would work with Bravo Force leave their pistols buckled into their holsters where they might be useful if a firefight developed.
About two hours before dawn, the high-lifters set them down in the landing zone. The troops formed up and moved off toward their assigned positions, wearing night goggles until the brightening of pre-dawn made them unnecessary. They moved with surprising stealth, and Pru realized this was not the first time they had had to move silently into position. She and the troopers assigned to Bravo Force moved around to the flank of the village, settling into the brush and shrubs as close to the tents and mud structures as they could safely approach.
They had not been in position for more than 20 minutes before there was movement in the village. Several people emerged from the tents and went to the latrine buildings and then to the well, where they performed the washing of ritual purification. A woman here and there started a fire to heat water for coffee after prayers. Another filled a water bag – made of goatskin, Pru noticed – and took it to her tent.
The troops remained still until, surprisingly, a voice began the call to prayer. The muzzein was a tall, thin man who had stepped out of his tent and gone to the well to wash. When he had finished, he rose to his full height and began the ritual call in a clear voice that carried throughout the village and echoed from the hills. By the time he had finished, people were emerging from the tents and moving toward the square. Some slipped into the latrines, all at least went past the well and its trough to dip their hands and arms into water that they rubbed on their faces and necks before prayer. Several of the men rolled prayer rugs out and stood behind them as they formed lines facing east. One of the men – Pru assumed he was the leader – took a stance in front of the rest: the imam’s position. The rows of men formed quickly in an order clearly determined by habit, the men murmuring to one another, relaxed and reverent. One or two men in each row laid their slug-throwers next to them, but without any sign of wariness – more as a habitual act.
Behind them, the women formed rows as well, the children beside their mothers. One hard-faced woman assumed a position similar to that of the imam, not actually in front of the rest, but asserting her assumed rank.
Mira nudged Pru and nodded toward the woman. Pru nodded her understanding that this was Zaharah’s head wife; the one Pru had decided to watch carefully.
Eventually everyone seemed to be present and the imam began the prayer ritual. The women followed the motions as well, bending and praying quietly as the imam lead on. The children, except for the very youngest, followed suit.
Pru heard Zahlman’s voice on the command channel. “I have no one outside the perimeter. Can’t vouch for the buildings.”
“Check. On my count.” came the Captain’s voice in their earbugs, “Five, four, three, two, one… GO!” The hesitation served to assure that those in the square were in the act of prostration, where they would not readily see what happened next.
At the word, a hail of stun grenades sailed out of the bushes that hid the troopers, falling among the men. Some of them landed well to the back of the group of men, and Pru was certain some of the women in the front rows would feel their effect.
When they hit, the deep hum covered the other sounds of the worshipers, and the men generally slumped in their places. The women, however, were alerted, alarmed by the strange sound and by the suddenly motionless forms of the men. Some felt the effect of stun. They began to wail and scream, rising from their places.
Pru’s team had begun to rush forward as soon as the word was given, taking care not to catch the effect of the stun grenades. By the time the women had begun to mill about in confusion and fear, she and her troopers had surrounded them, even as the main force was moving to secure the men.
“Sisters,” Pru called out in Arabic, “do not be afraid. We are here to help you and your children. Stay where you are.”
The women hesitated, looking at the strangers clad in battle dress, but with their heads uncovered and their hair identifying them as women like themselves. Quickly, Pru’s force moved to isolate the women from the stunned bodies of the men, making it clear that those who did not obey would be stunned.
Meanwhile, the main force was moving through the ranks of the men, making sure all were out of action, frisking the bodies, beginning to collect weapons and using their stunners on those who seemed to need it.
Pru had worked with her force to explain their mission in simple, clear terms. She spoke up loudly in Arabic: “We are here to protect you and the children, to bring you medical help and to help those with child,” the troopers repeated her words (those who spoke the language) as they gently tried to assemble the women into a coherent group. Seeing the troopers were women seemed to help reassure them.
The second wave, the med team, began to move forward. The larger group of male medics began to work on the men in the front ranks of the group, installing ID chips on the arm of each man. Basically programmed, they would be reprogrammed later, as the follow-on teams from OSG arrived to re-install common and personal identity information from the main OSG data banks. “After all,” Pru had said, “they all have identities somewhere. Our job is to restore them.”
As the women medics began to work through the ranks of women and children, there was a flurry of resistance.
Pru called out, “You will have all your implants restored, as will the men. The fertility and med implants will be done by women medics in one of the tents later on. You will also be treated for any medical conditions you may have, especially the children. Those who are sick will be given medications. Which of you is pregnant?”
The obviously pregnant women had already been identified and medics and Bravo Force troopers were attending them. They included Zaharah and the one she had identified as being close to term. Several other women indicated they, too, were pregnant, and troopers and medics moved to them.
Mira moved to take charge of Zaharah, and the two women embraced. Zaharah called out, “I know this woman. These people are friends; they are here to help us.” In the confusion, this seemed to have some small effect, and Pru was glad of it.
Several of the medics began rounding up the children who, at first startled and confused, were beginning to move about. The orders were to keep them from running away to hide before they could be treated.
Zaharah’s pregnant friend called out, “Oh, help me! My waters have broken. Ohh!” She bent over and called out with the first cry of a woman in labor. A medic and a trooper with very short hair moved to support her and began moving her toward one of the tents.
Unseen – even by Pru, who was dealing with a small, bright-eyed boy trying to escape – the hard-faced head wife had moved toward where the ranks of men lay still. She now picked up a slug-thrower from beside one of the men in the last rank, and turned, crying “Leave her! You are unclean! Men may not touch her.” and opened full automatic fire in the general direction of the small group around the crying, pregnant woman.
The shorthaired trooper took three hits in her body armor, which did no real damage. But, a bullet went through the back of her head, spraying blood and brains all over her patient and the medic with her. The medic was shot through the arm, and they all went down, the medic trying to cushion the fall of her patient, even as she tried to determine the trooper’s condition.
Pru had caught the motion of the head wife, and ran forward, arriving beside her just as she began to fire. She threw a numbing blow against the woman’s trigger hand and followed with a smashing forearm blow to her face and chest. The slug-thrower fell to the ground and the woman with it, but she immediately began to reach for the weapon. Pru pulled her stunner from its holster and stunned her thoroughly.
Turning, Pru swung her stunner toward the rest of the women, looking for others who might resist. They all drew back, gesturing submission.
“All of you,” Pru shouted, her anger apparent in her voice, “hands on your heads. Troopers, search everyone. Get that pregnant woman under cover and under care.” Two female medics ran to gather up the fallen mother-to-be and help her into the nearby tent. The women troopers of her force patted down the entire group, coming up only with a few knives, no other weapons.
Zaharah said to Mira, “Most of us were not allowed our knives. Only those she trusted.”
Mira passed this information on to Pru, who moved the women from whom knives had been recovered to a special, more closely guarded area. Meanwhile, the main force had collected all the slug-throwers in the square, and were beginning a careful search through tents and buildings for other weapons.
Pru, as soon as she dared, moved to the side of the fallen trooper. The wounded medic bent over the inert form. There was little doubt that she was dead: her entire face was a single exit wound. The medic was sobbing, her face in her hands.
Pru motioned to another medic to come and look after the medic’s wounded arm. She put her hand on her back, and tried to comfort her. Her own feelings were confused between rage at the attack and pain at the loss of one of “her” troopers. She knelt down beside the woman as the medic she had called came up and began to cut away the cloth around the wound.
“I know it hurts inside,” she said. “Be strong. You were both doing the right thing.”
The woman medic looked up at her. “She was my friend. It’s so senseless. Thank you.”
Pru felt her grief and put her hand on the woman’s cheek. She bent down and kissed her cheek as the medic attending her used a med stun on the wounded arm and began applying a compress to stop the flow of blood. Pru stood and went to get the village women involved in restoring order. She made sure the children were placed under the supervision of their mothers even as she assigned troopers to be sure no one wandered off. She made a point of moving among the women, assuring them that the men were only stunned and would shortly rouse and be all right. ‘Unlike my trooper,’ she thought as she watched the body being placed in a bag and removed to the assembly area away from the village.
Among the larger group of men, Pru noticed that some of the bodies were smaller than the rest. She went to the sergeant major.
“I think this group followed the old way, that boys of seven are treated like men. Can you keep a special eye on those kids; make sure they don’t run away and that their mothers have access to them if they want it?”
The woman nodded. “I’d forgotten about that. I was wondering why there were little guys mixed in with the men. Thanks.” She looked sharply at Pru. “You sure you aren’t Muslim?”
Pru shook her head, “No, just been around them a lot. Read the history.”
The burly sergeant major gave her a friendly rap on the arm. “Liked the way you took that bitch down. Trooper Bouchard’s a loss, but I don’t see how you could have stopped it. Don’t blame yourself.” She smiled. “Not too much, anyway.” She touched Pru’s arm. “Maybe we could do some sparring sometime?”
Before too long, the men began to revive from their stunning. Medics went among them with coffee that had been laced with medications to reduce the headache that heavy stunning always brings. Most of the men were angry and rebellious until they realized they were under close guard. The leader began a loud protest, but subsided when confronted with the business end of a stunner. Soon, the men lapsed into sullen quiet. The troopers stood guard, their stunners holstered, until everyone was awake and alert. The men were allowed to move about and find their friends, but the troopers did not allow groups to assemble, and maintained the separation between the men and the women and children. Here and there, a youngster was allowed to go speak to his mother. The girls, however, remained in the women’s section.
.oOo.
Pru heard her name called; it was the Captain. He stood in the space between the rows of men and the group of women and children. He beckoned to her.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “That was good work. You prevented many more injuries.”
“I guess I’m all right,” Pru replied. “I’m not happy about it, but I’ll get through it.”
“Good. Stand here with me while I make an announcement.” He straightened his beret, which reminded Pru to put hers back on.
He raised his voice so that it carried throughout the square. “Fellow citizens,” he said. “We are forces of the Office of the Secretary General. We have come here because, as you all know, it is against the law to remove your implants or to remove them from someone else. The men here…” he turned to gesture at them, “The men were only stunned. Our medics will spend the next few hours restoring implants for both men and women. You women will only be treated by women medics – no man will be allowed to compromise your modesty. The children will also get new implants. For all of you, men and women, your fertility and medical implants will also be restored. The children who have not had them will get them now. All you adults will have your PIDs restored from our records and those children who do not have them will have them initiated.
“When we have completed our work, and while we are engaged here, our med team will examine everyone for injuries or disease and will treat anyone with a condition that requires it. The pregnant women will be given all necessary pre-natal screening.
“Anyone who wishes may remain and continue living here when this work is done. Your new IDs will show that you are a member of this community and we will monitor this village constantly to be sure no one removes any of your implants. If any implant is removed, that person will be immediately liable for a term in prison, as will the person who removes it. Those who wish to permanently leave the village, now or later, may have their IDs modified to show that they are no longer a member of this group.
“I am grateful to my deputy commander,” he put his hand on Pru’s shoulder, acknowledging her, “for her help in making this operation a success. You can thank her for the thought that went into assuring your safety and the consideration with which you are being treated, as well as for her courage and skill in disarming the murderer who fired on your women for no reason. As it is, she killed one of my troopers, and will be subject to the law as a murderess.
“I apologize for interrupting your morning prayers. It was done so that we could avoid injuries and harm.”
Pru stepped forward. She sensed the anger of the men, and the confusion of the women.
“All of you – men and women, like it or not – are members of the modern society we all know. Many of you have come here to try a different way of life than that of the Controlled Areas or the OC areas around them. That is your right. Just as it is your right to follow practices of Islam that come from the past. We respect that right.”
She felt a wave of sentiment – belief and disbelief, confusion and relief – from the side of the men, echoed in part by some of the women.
“The proof that we respect your right to alternative religious practice is that we are here only because you removed the implants we are all required by law to wear. We are also here to assure that only those committed to your ways need remain here. And, you must accept that we will continue to make certain those who decide to leave in the future may do so in safety.
“Your style of life is not for everyone. There may be those of you – men and women – who no longer wish to remain here. Those of you who wish to leave may do so. You will be given transport to the Controlled Area of your origin. Those who choose to leave later may also do so at will. But, there will be no further intervention from OSG unless one of you turns up without your implants.” She looked about at the women and the men. “Are there any questions?”
Zaharah spoke up, hesitantly, clearly knowing what she risked. “If I leave today, what happens to my child?”
As if on cue, from the tent to which the woman in labor had been taken, came a lusty cry. Another child had been born.
Pru looked at Zaharah and smiled. “Your child, and this new one, is its mother’s child under the law. If you choose to divorce your husband, as is provided for in the Holy Koran and recognized under the New Hadith, you may take with you any male child who is under the age of manhood, and any female child who is not yet a woman.”
A medic stepped out of the maternity tent with a bundle in her arms. She held it up. “Al’lah be praised! It is a boy.” The men murmured approvingly.
Pru went on. “May Al’lah indeed be praised. This new child is the bringer of new life for your village. From now on, you can live as you will and keep the ways you have brought from other times.
She turned to the men. “But, do not forget, any of you, that your desire to turn to old ways does not erase the new. All of you, and all of these women,” she gestured to them, “were born and raised in the modern ways. And, you will be required to educate your children, born here, in the modern ways, so that they can survive in the modern world when you, this village, and your ideas are gone. If you want to live in a primitive way because you choose, so be it. But, do not forget your obligation to the future. The future will not be denied.”
.oOo.
A few days after the incident at Ouled Naïl, Pru and her friends gathered in the village square of Qatal. The sun was setting over the foothills, and they gathered not far from a restaurant owned by Zahlman’s uncle, chattering and laughing. Before long, they moved to the area in front of the restaurant, sheltered by awnings and hedges, where a large, round table had been set for them.
“Where’s Zahlman?” Pru asked Jazira.
“Should be here any minute,” she replied.
And, before the waiters could begin taking orders, Zahlman appeared across the square, accompanied by Terry Sideman and, in civilian clothes, Captain al-Khud.
They all took appropriate places, and were about to begin the process of ordering when Zahlman stood up, gesturing for attention. “My friends, my uncle has asked to be allowed to provide a traditional Moroccan feast. He has had a lamb slaughtered in the halal way, and we will enjoy a meal such as you have rarely had in your lives.”
As they applauded, two men brought out a huge, round tray, with a ring of couscous surrounding heaps of meat and vegetables. Raisins and apricots speckled the couscous. The tray was followed by bowls of sauces and garnishes. The diners all waded in, reaching with their fingers to capture the food and sauces, eating with appreciative gusto.
Sensing a party, a trio of musicians appeared as if from nowhere playing on an oud, a fiddle and a flute. The music was traditional, hardly less than a hundred years old, and familiar to local ears.
Terry was seated next to Pru and noted how she was able to eat enthusiastically, getting almost all the food into her mouth, not on her chest or into her lap. While he managed well, it was more due to care than skill.
He murmured to Pru, “Glad I’m not left-handed.” Pru chuckled through a mouthful, and when her mouth was clear, she reached for a big glass of fruit juice nearby. “No one would mind too much – you’re an infidel, after all.” He looked quizzically at her. “Well, I’ve been around here too long to get away with that,” she explained.
On the other side of the feast, Ishmael al-Khud paused in his meal to look at Mira, his partner at the feast. Somehow, Zahlman and Jazira had trapped Isabella between them and Terry, who was rather more interested in Pru than the blond Italian.
Isabella leaned to whisper to Jazira, “Next time, Bravo Force owes me one.”
“Okay, we’ll invite the Sergeant Major,” Jazira stage-whispered in reply. Isabella’s face was a study in anger and amusement for a moment until, reaching into the bowl, she plopped the traditional sheep’s eyeball into Jazira’s hand as she reached for another mouthful. Jazira squeaked.
Alia and Zaratta did not miss this byplay, and nudged each other knowingly. Isabella was not known to take things like that lying down.
Ishmael looked across the table at Jazira. “I’m sorry I didn’t suggest you ask her,” he said. “I couldn’t run the team without her.”
“Well, Captain, darling,” said a deep alto voice, “I got an invitation anyway. Hope there’s something left.” The burly sergeant major pushed into a space between Alia and Zaratta and began making up for lost time at the food. Ishmael laughed delightedly, and Jazira flushed visibly as she realized her omission. “Thanks, Alia,” she said, “and welcome, Maeve.” The sergeant major bobbed her head at the apology. Her free left hand was busy briefly with a greeting caress to her two friends. When her mouth was clear, she said, “Wouldn’t miss this for anything, eh, Captain, dear?”
“Glad you could make it, Maeve,” Ishmael replied.
“You take good care of my scout,” she said, with a mock leer at Mira, “or I’ll have to.”
Mira leered back “If there are any complaints, I’ll let you know.”
Terry muttered to Pru, “How does someone with a name like Maeve O’Leary end up sergeant major of an Arabic-speaking SO team?”
“Don’t ask me. Probably has something to do with extreme competence,” Pru muttered back, adding, “and not a little chutzpah. She sure helped us a lot.”
Eventually, the tray gave way to bowls of water for washing, then fruits and ices and yoghurt and pots of thick, scalding, sweet coffee that that surely been boiling since the feast began.
When the feast was manifestly done, Zahlman rose again and thanked his uncle and the staff, and led the sated group back to their house. When the gates were closed and the front door opened to the cool night air, he said, “We have beer and brandy. One will make you fuller; the other may help your digestion. What will it be?” He took the orders and soon came out of the house with another huge tray, the emptying of which took until dawn.