The Reaper: Autobiography of One of the Deadliest Special Ops Snipers by Gary Brozek, Nicholas Irving Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gary Brozek, Nicholas Irving
Guys were trotting and hustling, all of them with papers or shadow light imagery, weapons and ammunition. From top to bottom everyone was excited. Another army unit had taken casualties the night before, and based on the message, we had an important target that had to be taken out ASAP.
I was still in my PT (physial training) shorts and T-shirt, and I joined the first, second, and third squad leaders, the weapons squad leader, and the platoon sergeant, Casey. They were all huddled in front of a sixty-inch flat-screen TV. When I came up, I looked at the images on the screen. A compound wedged into some thick bush and a few individuals milling around in front of a building that was several stories tall. Somebody paused the video and we focused on one individual. We had our man.
Next, we focused on the environment. We debated whether we could do an offset drop with the helicopters or if they should land on the X . Everybody contributed and we could all sense that the clock was running, so there wasn’t a whole lot of back-and-forth. Each squad leader knew what his team had to do. Pemberton had come into the room, and I split off from the others. As snipers, we had to put ourselves in the most precarious position a lot of times. Personally, I preferred being on top of a building. It gave me the best field of vision, meaning we had the widest coverage. The disadvantage was that we’d be skylining ourselves—we’d be silhouetted against the nighttime sky, offering the enemy a better view of us.
By then I’d gotten used to viewing two- and three-dimensional images on a screen or a document and calculating rough distances. Pemberton and I went over the distances we estimated between buildings, what our points of vulnerability might be.
Meanwhile Sergeant Casey sat at a computer inputting all the different elements of the operation—directions, the roster, who’s going on the helicopters, which squads are bringing what equipment. A few minutes after we were done, the battalion commander came down the stairs and handed us each a disk with all the intel on the mission, including maps and photos of the area of operation (AO).
“This is a TST [time sensitive target], men. You’re out in thirty minutes.”
That gave us just enough time to coordinate with the pilots and get our kit squared away and do a briefing.
Before the brief, I ran upstairs to the freaks and geeks center. That’s what I called the room where our computer operations were located. Though I had done some rough figuring myself, I wanted to confirm how environmental factors were going to play into my initial positioning plan. I was glad I wasn’t a member of the freaks and geeks squad. I mean no disrespect by calling those guys by that name. They performed an invaluable service, one that I wouldn’t have been able to do. If this FOB were a school, well, the freaks and geeks were in study hall all day while I was out at recess. They had to sit there in a darkened room for their entire shift, staring at a screen that was projecting satellite imagery.
I sat down near one of the analysts, a Hispanic guy by the name of Hernandez. I knew that he was the best down-and-distance guy up there—he specialized in being able to determine the height of a building based on the shadow it cast and other means.
“Hernandez, I’m wondering if I need the ten-footer or the twenty to get up on there.”
I put my finger on the screen, showing him which building I was referring to. As soon as my finger touched down, I could feel Tony cringing.
“My bad,” I said, apologizing for the smudge.
He squinted for a minute and then said, “That’s plus or minus twenty-five.”
I figured we could use the aluminum collapsible ladder instead of the folding one.
“And what’s the difference in height between this outer perimeter wall and this objective?”
A few seconds later I had my answer and knew that plan A wasn’t going to work out. There was no way we could shoot
I was still in my PT (physial training) shorts and T-shirt, and I joined the first, second, and third squad leaders, the weapons squad leader, and the platoon sergeant, Casey. They were all huddled in front of a sixty-inch flat-screen TV. When I came up, I looked at the images on the screen. A compound wedged into some thick bush and a few individuals milling around in front of a building that was several stories tall. Somebody paused the video and we focused on one individual. We had our man.
Next, we focused on the environment. We debated whether we could do an offset drop with the helicopters or if they should land on the X . Everybody contributed and we could all sense that the clock was running, so there wasn’t a whole lot of back-and-forth. Each squad leader knew what his team had to do. Pemberton had come into the room, and I split off from the others. As snipers, we had to put ourselves in the most precarious position a lot of times. Personally, I preferred being on top of a building. It gave me the best field of vision, meaning we had the widest coverage. The disadvantage was that we’d be skylining ourselves—we’d be silhouetted against the nighttime sky, offering the enemy a better view of us.
By then I’d gotten used to viewing two- and three-dimensional images on a screen or a document and calculating rough distances. Pemberton and I went over the distances we estimated between buildings, what our points of vulnerability might be.
Meanwhile Sergeant Casey sat at a computer inputting all the different elements of the operation—directions, the roster, who’s going on the helicopters, which squads are bringing what equipment. A few minutes after we were done, the battalion commander came down the stairs and handed us each a disk with all the intel on the mission, including maps and photos of the area of operation (AO).
“This is a TST [time sensitive target], men. You’re out in thirty minutes.”
That gave us just enough time to coordinate with the pilots and get our kit squared away and do a briefing.
Before the brief, I ran upstairs to the freaks and geeks center. That’s what I called the room where our computer operations were located. Though I had done some rough figuring myself, I wanted to confirm how environmental factors were going to play into my initial positioning plan. I was glad I wasn’t a member of the freaks and geeks squad. I mean no disrespect by calling those guys by that name. They performed an invaluable service, one that I wouldn’t have been able to do. If this FOB were a school, well, the freaks and geeks were in study hall all day while I was out at recess. They had to sit there in a darkened room for their entire shift, staring at a screen that was projecting satellite imagery.
I sat down near one of the analysts, a Hispanic guy by the name of Hernandez. I knew that he was the best down-and-distance guy up there—he specialized in being able to determine the height of a building based on the shadow it cast and other means.
“Hernandez, I’m wondering if I need the ten-footer or the twenty to get up on there.”
I put my finger on the screen, showing him which building I was referring to. As soon as my finger touched down, I could feel Tony cringing.
“My bad,” I said, apologizing for the smudge.
He squinted for a minute and then said, “That’s plus or minus twenty-five.”
I figured we could use the aluminum collapsible ladder instead of the folding one.
“And what’s the difference in height between this outer perimeter wall and this objective?”
A few seconds later I had my answer and knew that plan A wasn’t going to work out. There was no way we could shoot
Similar Books
Ace's Key: Book 1
Abbie St. Claire
The Immigrant’s Daughter
Howard Fast
Bank Owned
J. Joseph Wright
In Deep with the FBI Agent
Lynne Silver
Sometimes By Moonlight
Heather Davis
The Dragon Stirs
Lynda Aicher
Languish
Alyxandra Harvey
The Great Good Thing
Andrew Klavan
Altered States
Paul J. Newell
Insatiable
Opal Carew