My Time Behind Enemy Lines

SAS operator William Stacey, fresh out of selection and advanced training is put onto a mission to Baghdad. Although he feels alone in his current squad, he’s made quick friends with Oliver Jacks an ambitious solider.

All is going fine till, Stacey takes a shot that spins his world upside and dropping his squad into a lot of trouble and danger.

Will Stacey (No Pun Intended) manage to pull his squad through, or will they one by one be captured.

Author Note.
Hey I know people don’t do it much but if you liked the story, can you follow and like so I know if I should keep publishing chapter.
I hope this to be the first in many adventures for Stacey and Jacks.

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3. Chapter Two - The Flight Over

Authors Note

Hi, this is more of a favour. It takes time writing these so if you like them. Like it or follow so I know if I should publish anymore. Thanks

Chapter Two - The Flight Over

Sometimes when I’m alone, I like to reflect on myself. I like to think of myself as a mirror I reflect what I see around me or what’s inside me.

Part of selection was interrogation phase, where you have to use your mental strength to help you from cracking under intense amounts of pressure. Although the entire time you know your in a test, it’s so real you believe you may actually be in danger. They tell you before hand that you can Voluntarily withdraw (VW), at anytime, in a way a get out of jail free card. It’s a ploy or a trap you decide. In a real life situation, you’ve been captured your not going to a have a way out, so you have to keep your mouth shut, while giving them enough information (Lies or Part Truths) to keep them happy.

Back to the point, while going through this selection stage, you have to do what is called greying.

Greying is where you show enough emotion while not giving a way weakness. If they say something that hits a nerve, don’t show it, it makes you invincible. They can’t use anything against you.

Well I was 27 hours through capture I was being held in stress positions and I hadn’t eaten, and I’d drunk barely any water.

I was Almost naked, bruised and bloody. A bag was over my head. The darkness, it was claustrophobic. All consuming.

Suddenly the bag was ripped from my head, the light momentarily blinded me and as my sight started to return I noticed one of the men I was captured with, was held at gun point. He like myself was beaten up and tired, a mixture of blood, sweat and tears covered his face and upper body.

I felt a barrel of a gun press into the back of my head, a scare tactic.

“You have till the count of ten Stacey or his brain splatter the cell walls”

I knew it was a simulation,

Click the safety is off

“10”

A simulation I told myself

“9”

A simulation

“8”

“Stacey, we’re not fucking playing around, what the fuck are you doing, what’s your squad number, are you Special Forces... I think you are”

“7”

I hear the guard, cock a bullet into place

“6”

“5,4,3,2...”

“Stacey you fucking bastard, speak”

I look into my friends eyes, he shakes his head slightly, a single tear steaks down his face. He shakes his head again and remains still.

“1”

BANG

The bullet collides with the ground, spraying me in concrete. The sound, what sound I can’t hear anything. My consciousness starts to slip in and out of focus. I tilt and sway. The lack of energy due to sleep deprivation slows my movements.

I feel a hand clasp my shoulder steadying me, I turn to look at the mass behind me but instead my face is grabbed by a interrogator.

“Stacey... what’s your squad number”

I remain quite

“Stacey what’s your mission”

“Water” I reply

“What”

“Water please”

He laughs,

“Some Water Please” he snaps at a nearby guard, “here”

I raise my hand but I grasp nothing,

“Stacey do you want this water, just say yes”

I nod,

“Not good enough, say yes”

I nod again,

“Say yes”

I remain silent, nor do I nod

“Alright I’ll make you a deal, you tell me your shoulder number and I’ll give you the water”

“278 4321 12”

“There we go that wasn’t so hard was it”

He hands me the water, Not aware I’d given him the wrong number.

I drain the cup, I take one final look at my comrade, he like me is scared, but doesn’t show it.

“Put him back”

I have a bag put roughly over my head and I’m forced to lie on my front While holding my legs in the air.

 

***

 

Why does this story come to mind, it’s because I held myself together, I kept strong. Reflecting what was thrown at me, which was confidence.

 

“Hey” a voice to my left says

I turn to look at the voice, the owner looks back.

“Hello, can I help you” I reply

“The names Jacks, I’ll be in your regiment... I understand your commanding officer”

“Yes that’s true, were heading for Baghdad”

“So I heard”, he replies, “is it true that your SAS?”

“Yes”

“An Honour, sir an honour. Never thought I’d meet one of you... I mean your the best of the best”

“Well thanks”, I’m not faltered but I feel proud. I like jacks.

“Sir... what does it take”

“What do you mean”

“To get in... the SAS”

“Well fuck loads of effort and will power, a lot of mental strength and comradeship” I reply

“I’d fucking love to be one of you, I want that Brother-ship”

I see myself in this young troop, I see a man willing to achieve and climb the ranks.

“Impress me” I say

“Sir”

“Impress me and I’ll put you up for selection”

“Sir really... I won’t let you down”

“You better not, and don’t get yourself killed”

“I won’t, Sir... if it’s alright with you I’d like to get some sleep”

“Go for it” i reply... “one last question, how would you like to be a spotter”...

 

 

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