Marine Corps Stories: To the Platoon Commanders

“What the Americans fail to understand is that they have already lost.” Marine intelligence officer Major Dunbar “Shield” O’Dell listened in on the Saudi telephone conversation.

“They may have bombed us,” Sheikh Mohammad Safar said. His ghutrah and long white thawbs bore the color of pale death. He smoked from a hookah. O’Dell could tell because long pauses came up in the transmission.

“They don’t understand that we are supplying the money and spiritual support for the bombers. We are granting the military to possibly go up against the US to show them that they have no clue as to what power we possess.” Another long pause. “After we stop their entry, they’re going to have to submit to our demands. It is in the nature of a feeble giant with not even clay feet but no feet to stand on at all. America is too timid, too self-righteous. We will have a win.”

Another Sheikh Qaid Almasi, on the opposite side of the conversation, shifted in his chair. Static rose over the feed.

“Captain,” O’Dell said.

“Yes, sir,” Captain Valery Freemont answered.

“I want you to see if you can get rid of all that noise on the comms,” O’Dell said.

“Yes, sir,” Valery replied.

In some moments with just a few clicks, the sound came through as pristine as a flawless diamond. The officers continued to pick up on all of the conversation between the Saudis.

“They think that we’re their friends. The lice! They’re so beneath us and we’ve got them at the tip of our spears. They think that if they hold hands with us and make us an 'ally', that we will continue on with the facade of our ‘friendship,’” Almasi said. He laughed and coughed and took another drag of his hookah. He didn’t hear the response from Safar quick enough. He spoke in Arabic for the first time. He swore in the language. He regretted it but a boiling suspicion rose from his feet to his head. On the other end, still speaking in Arabic, Almasi pressed for Safar respond. Finally, Almasi came on the line again. The two men continued in Arabic.

“Sir,” Valery said. “I have a translator imbedded in the code so we that we can get what they’re saying into English.”

“Good, but catch up because we’re missing out on important details.”

The translator worked. Like a human speaking with clarity, the code provided more intelligence to the Marines. They listened in again.

“Can you believe this? Somehow they must have intercepted our Internet service. I know what...we can possibly use their own equipment against them. They’re probably hearing this right now. As long as we continue to speak in Arabic, we ought to not have any trouble. So, like I was saying, these Americans are gluttonous monsters. They throw their weight around and act like they’re the only force on the planet. Sure, we don’t have nukes. So what? We’re helping our holy warriors with the wherewithal to exact revenge against the Evil One,” Almasi said.

Major O’Dell whirled around to the central console. He looked at the map where the conversation took place. He could surmise that the two men weren’t more than ten miles away. He jotted down some notes in a digital pad.

“Listen up, people,” O’Dell said. “We have every right to take out these two leaders. But that is not our aim. We must remove the entire regime instead of just assassinating some lesser sheikhs. Now, what we are going to do is relay all of these messages to the platoon commanders and allow those Marines to infiltrate where the head honchos reside and to take out all of them. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The officers then sent digital forms to the lieutenants and captains in the field to instruct their men and women to snipe the spiritual leaders. This would be like cutting off the head of the serpent.