The Contractor

Taking advantage of the financial crisis and the presidential election that left the U.S. government preoccupied, various armed factions in Iraq launched a new wave of attacks. It was a near replica of the "Bloody October" two years prior, with Baghdad suffering dozens of terrorist incidents in just two weeks, resulting in the deaths of numerous U.S. soldiers and thousands of civilians. The oil pipelines on the outskirts of the city were, of course, not spared, and the thick smoke from burning oil made this once-beautiful ancient city appear all the more desolate.

Shi Yang Deng put on a tactical vest filled with magazines, slung a Romanian AIMS assault rifle with a folded stock over his shoulder, and then picked up a duffel bag packed with drum magazines before stepping outside. He was in a good mood, despite the fact that he was about to leave the "Green Zone" for a perilous journey. At that moment, the beautiful scenery of the Aegean Sea flashed through his mind.

Today was his last mission as a "security contractor" in Iraq.

In the parking lot, more than a dozen people had already gathered, dressed in similar outfits: tactical vests over T-shirts or shirts, jeans, hiking boots, and different-colored Arab keffiyehs around their necks. They were armed with various AKMs or PKMs that had been modified in all sorts of ways, and some wore Kevlar helmets and goggles.

Once everyone had arrived, a tall and sturdy Afrikaner with Dutch ancestry stepped forward. He was Paul van Riebeeck, the supervisor of this project.

"Guys, although the project is almost finished, we still have one last mission to complete."

The contractors, who had been enthusiastically discussing their vacation plans, quieted down.

"You have work to do, so get your act together and get it done. Although 'Harji' has lousy shooting skills, I don't want to see any of you end up on iCasualties because of some stupid mistake."

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

"Remember what you're here to do, let's move out!"

The group then climbed into the vehicles.

Ten minutes later, a convoy departed the "Green Zone," heading toward Baghdad International Airport.

Leading the way was a Mitsubishi Pajero SUV, fully armored with welded steel plates, followed by an escort convoy of four Toyota Land Cruisers. Each of these had a large hole cut into the roof, with a makeshift circular shield welded around it, inside of which was a PKM machine gun and a gunner equipped with a bulletproof vest and helmet. In the middle of the convoy were two GMC SUVs modified for bulletproofing, the primary protection targets of this mission. At the rear of each vehicle hung warning signs in both English and Arabic: "Do not approach, or you will be shot!"

The warning signs were actually redundant. Because the contractors had immunity from prosecution, they were feared even more than the U.S. military; civilians would scatter the moment they saw the convoy approaching, not daring to linger.

The convoy passed through filthy streets littered with garbage, entering the highway leading to Baghdad International Airport.

"Attention, we have entered the 'Red Zone.' Repeat, we have entered the 'Red Zone,'" Paul's voice came through the radio.

Deng Shiyang, sitting in the front passenger seat, tapped the roof a few times, and the gunner standing in the back immediately switched off the safety.

The "Red Zone" referred to high-risk areas along the mission route, also known as the "Irish Route." It was a military code name for the highway connecting the "Green Zone" and Baghdad International Airport. Because it was the main road in and out of Baghdad, the buildings on both sides of the highway were prime locations for insurgents to ambush passing vehicles.

The highway was straight, and vehicles could easily reach speeds over fifty miles per hour. If not for the occasional car wreckage along the road, this so-called "world's most dangerous highway" would be no different from any highway in the U.S.

Not long after, a wreck outside caught Deng Shiyang's attention. The once-mighty Humvee was now just a charred shell, its twisted frame looking especially grim under the dim sky. He found his heart pounding, his shirt sticking to his back with sweat, the clammy feeling adding to his irritation and unease. He wiped his hand on his pants and instinctively glanced at the lead vehicle ahead.

Suddenly, a sharp "whoosh" sounded from outside, as several orange-red streaks of light flew from the abandoned buildings by the roadside, accompanied by whistling noises as they zipped past the vehicles.

"It's starting," Deng Shiyang gritted his teeth, then flipped off the safety.

The lead vehicle accelerated, smoke grenades were tossed out one after another from the windows, and the rising white smoke quickly shrouded one side of the highway. The gunners on the rooftops began to return fire, and the sound of rapid gunfire filled the air, tracer rounds weaving through the smoke, creating a dazzling display.

Such battles, where both sides couldn't see each other and greeted each other with bullets, were commonplace in Iraq. As long as the convoy maintained a high enough speed and used the smoke for cover, the enemy couldn’t expect to hit much from a few hundred meters away. Moreover, the escort vehicles were all modified for protection; from the tires to the windows, they were bulletproof, and medium-caliber bullets would leave only shallow dents at most.

Deng Shiyang awkwardly twisted his body and extended his AIMS rifle, equipped with a stick-type flash suppressor, out of the shooting port, firing into the smoke. The sound of gunfire echoed inside the vehicle, causing his ears to buzz. Hot shell casings scattered on the floor, the acrid smell of burnt smokeless powder filled the air, and the blend of sounds and scents formed a sensory stimulus that triggered his adrenaline, continually pounding his brain.

He felt like he was in a state of strange excitement; his heart seemed ready to leap out of his chest, his pores expanded with the blood flow, and an indescribable pleasure spread throughout his body...

The seventy-five-round drum emptied in less than a minute.

Deng Shiyang shook off the shell casings on his body, discarded the empty drum, and reached into his bag for a spare, reloading and continuing to shoot. He didn’t expect to hit anything but seemed to be firing simply to enjoy the thrill of the bullets leaving the barrel.

"All units, full speed ahead. Repeat, full speed ahead," Paul's voice came over the radio, and he specifically emphasized, "No matter what happens, don’t stop!"

The convoy accelerated, intending to quickly get out of the enemy’s firing range. With fewer bullets flying nearby, Deng Shiyang stopped shooting to let the hot barrel cool down.

As his tension eased, new thoughts began to emerge. He looked at the lead vehicle and pondered the same question he thought about every time they went out: would they encounter an IED?

For insurgents lacking heavy weapons, the so-called "roadside bombs" or IEDs were among the few anti-armor tactics available. These makeshift devices, made from old mines or artillery shells and detonated by cell phone, were crude yet highly feared by contractors and the U.S. military alike. Although the convoy was equipped with cellphone signal jammers, the IED detonators had evolved to include wired connections and infrared sensors, making them even harder to guard against. This was why the lead vehicle was privately nicknamed the "suicide car," with its occupants chosen by drawing lots.

Like flipping a coin, people always calculated the odds of heads or tails before gambling, even if it was futile, as it offered a small sense of comfort.

But luck was not on their side today.

With a thunderous explosion, a massive plume of dust formed a giant gray-black blossom by the roadside, instantly engulfing the convoy.

Deng Shiyang felt as if he had been hit with a heavy blow, an invisible force instantly shutting down his sensory nerves, leaving everything white and silent.

Then something hard hit him on the head.

The driver instinctively jerked the steering wheel in response to the sudden explosion, causing the Land Cruiser to swerve in a large "S" on the highway. The centrifugal force slammed Deng Shiyang's head against the bulletproof window, and as stars danced before his eyes, he finally snapped back to reality.

"Damn! Step on it and get out of here! Damn it..." Paul's angry voice shouted over the radio.

At the same time, the driver yelled in heavily-accented English, "Shoot back!"

The blast had blown away much of the smoke, and with the loss of cover, the convoy, emerging from the dust, immediately came under concentrated fire.

Ignoring the huge bump on his forehead, Deng Shiyang pulled the trigger...

Under the cover of their return fire, the convoy finally escaped the enemy's range.

After leaving the battlefield, Deng Shiyang was nearly burned by the hot shell casings. Most of the drum magazines in his bag were used up, and the barrel of his AIMS had turned dark red, almost setting the handguard on fire.

He quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the storage compartment, poured it over the barrel, then wrapped it in a scarf and soaked it again. He didn’t want the hot barrel to ignite anything inside the vehicle, and he needed it to cool down fast for the next possible fight.

Through the windshield, now dotted with white marks, he noticed that the lead vehicle was nowhere in sight.

---

Notes:

Green Zone: A safe area established by the U.S. military in Baghdad, where the U.S. headquarters, embassy, and the Iraqi interim government are located.

Harji: Originally referred to pilgrims traveling to Mecca, it is used in English as a derogatory term for Muslims.

iCasualties: iCasualties.org, a website dedicated to tracking casualty statistics in Afghanistan and Iraq.

IED (Improvised Explosive Device): A makeshift bomb, commonly known as a roadside bomb, frequently used by insurgents for attacks.