Chapter 33: Chapter 31: Battle of Baghdad part 2
I had nearly crapped my pants when the shooting first began. My mind had gone completely to pieces. Lying on the terrace floor, with my face shot to shit, I retreated into my subconscious and let Saddams instincts take over.
I watched in stunned bemusement from the recesses of Saddams mind as he stood up despite the hail of bullets and insisted that Osman get up and fight back. Then he proceeded to stand near the terrace wall and fire below like Rambo.
I allowed myself to take back some control of Saddam's subconscious once the firing had stopped. I was reluctant to take back full control as I suspected I would shriek from the pain of having half my ear torn off or alternately puke at the sight of the bodies of the rebel soldiers which in some cases had simply been eviscerated.
On our side we had lost three men in the firefight. But Osman insisted there was no time to mourn and we needed to carry on. He led us towards the end of Yafa street which then hooked on to the Republic bridge.
We all crouched behind cover as we tried to scout the bridge in the non existent light.
"I cant see anything," Kamal complained. He had gotten away without any injuries but he looked rattled.
"Tch the streetlights are too dim to see till the end of the bridge. If we try and cross and they're waiting for us, we'll be sitting ducks," Osman added.
The Republic bridge was a beam bridge with a two lane road. It sat on pylons built into the Tigris river. There was absolutely no cover anywhere on the bridge. It was meant to traverse the East and West sides of the city rapidly and most likely in an automobile.
"We could hunker down here," I pondered aloud. "If we take the terraces again, we would have a strong strategic vantage point."
"We could...but for how long sir? We're just 20 odd men now. Battered. Victorious yes but battered. If the rebels come across the bridge with a tank our strategic position wont matter much. Well be fucked." Osman replied.
"Let's swim across," Kamal interjected.
We all looked at him.
"What?" he asked self consciously. "It must be what 200 meters across max. His Excellency and I swim much more than that daily. And the rest of you are younger than us."
It made sense to me but I looked at Osman who seemed to be considering the idea.
"I say it makes a lot of sense," I prodded. "They wont be expecting the Palace Guard and the President to swim across the river at night to ambush them. It sounds mad when I say it aloud."
"We'd be useless if they spot us in the water," Osman countered.
I shook my head, "You said it yourself. The streetlights are worth shit. In the water what will anyone see? Well swim across in a line."
Osman didnt waste much more time. He simply nodded and then started laying out his orders to the men.
In groupings of 3 we sprinted to where the embankment turned into the bridge and slid down to the waters edge.
I'm terrified of snakes. Always have been. I wasn't sure if there were venomous snakes in Iraq but my stress levels rose sharply as we entered the warm, soupish Tigris water. It didnt smell fresh at all. If I made it out of this alive and still in power, I would make sure that we cleaned up the Tigris and the Euphrates.
To our credit we made it across without incident. The only sound that we made was the occasional clip-clop of lapping water. We arrayed on the Eastern bank of the river. I was pleased to note that my lungs were not burning. I had come a long way fitness wise since my transmigration.
Osman sent a lithe guard to scope Abu Nawas road that lay above us. He scrambled back in a few minutes.
"Squad of 7 soldiers holding surrendered policemen. Some of the policemen look badly injured."
As he reported back to us, I thought I heard the sounds of distant shouting. Like hearing the crowd in a football stadium from far away but angry and buzzing not excited.
"If we go in shooting, the policemen could get caught in the crossfire." Kamal said with some concern.
"Theres no option," Osman replied. "Its us or them."
"Let's try and surround them first. We outnumber this squad. Maybe we surround them and then demand that they surrender." I suggested.
"Do we really want to take that risk Sir?" Osman asked. "I believe that if we come out shooting then the soldiers will react to the greater threat than kill the policemen first."
"I'm not worried about them executing their prisoners Captain. I'm worried about stray bullets killing unarmed men."
"Its your call sir," Osman replied.
"We have to try and save our countrymen. They're held prisoner clearly because they stood up to the rebels. It would be a poor show to not try and save them," I replied firmly, hoping that what I was saying wouldn't come back and bite me.
Osman simply nodded and relayed the instructions. Some of our men went back into the river and swam around the base of the bridge to head to the other side of it. We scrambled up to the Abu Nawas road, some ways away from the bridge. Carefully we emerged from the embankment. My heart was beating a mile a minute as I checked left and right before sprinting across the road while keeping low.
The rebels were holding the policemen prisoner near where the bridge emerged onto Abu Nawas road. We would approach them from 4 sides and demand that they surrender.
We sneaked in closer and closer. I could still hear the distant shouting but my active mind was focused on the rebel soldiers ahead. They seemed to be on half alert. Their hands were on their rifles but not tightly held. They were pacing about their prisoners, sometimes glancing in the Eastern direction of Tahrir Square.
We came to a halt and I saw Osman ahead of me grab the walkie talkie.
"On three, rush in weapons live. Do not fire first. Demand their surrender.
3...
2....
1....
Go! Go! Go!"
We rushed in, weapons pointed at their soldier. I let Army Saddams subconscious takeover a bit.
"Put your weapons down! Put your weapons down! Down on the ground! We'll fucking shoot! Weapons down!"
Twenty odd voices shouting the same instructions aggressively filters through even the most bone headed soldiers brain. There was a tense moment as we rushed in where I felt that the moment was on a knife's edge. Either an outright shitshow or a bloodless success. I held my breath as the rebels looked bewildered and wavered between raising their weapons and dropping them.
The moment paused.
And paused.
But finally one of the rebels dropped his rifle and put his hands up in surrender. And just like that the spell broke and the rest of the rebels surrendered as well.
We rounded the surrendered soldiers up and had them on their knees facing the river. We tied their hands with their own ropes. Some of the Palace guards were a bit brutal in bringing the rebels under control. One of the rebels may have been brained by the butt of a rifle. I couldn't care less.
We helped the policemen up and looked over their injuries.
"Mr. President?" came an incredulous voice behind me.
I turned around to spot Talat Aziz, the Chief of Police of Baghdad staring at me incredulously.
"What are you doing here sir?" he stuttered. "You're injured!"
I lit another cigarette. Must have been my sixth. I didnt care.
"I'm dealing with this rebel scum is what I'm doing Chief. What are you doing?"
"We," he said indicating the other policemen around, "heard that some of our men had gotten into a firefight with the rebels near Tahrir Square. We were coming to aid them but caught unawares. The bastards shot Marwan in the head."
He pointed at one of the supine and unconscious policemen who had an ugly looking would in the side of his head.
"Hes still breathing somehow," Talat said sadly.
I patted him on the shoulder, "first we take back the city and then we get our people patched up."
He nodded firmly, "We're with you till the end Mr. President."
Osman wandered over later as we had tallied our guns and ammo and coopted the uninjured policemen into our posse.
"Can you tell us what's the situation in the Tahrir Square direction?" he asked Talat.
Talats eyes widened, "You dont know?"
Osman shook his head, "Know what?"
"I heard the rebels talking about it," Talat continued. "When they fired on my men, the civilians came out on droves and formed a human blockade in front of the tanks."
"What!" I exclaimed in shock.
He nodded, "that's the sound you're hearing. Apparently they've crowded Tahrir Square and are burning cars and couches in front of the soldiers to stop them."
We all looked in the direction of Tahrir Square from where a rhythmic shouting and a dull orange glow was emanating.
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