The Angel Medallion by BlueKangaroo (best ereader for pdf TXT) 📖

was a silent but desperate cry. I don’t want to die like this! Please, God, help us!

The fast-paced upbeat rhythms of the Arabic music were all that could be heard. We hostages were silent; praying and hoping desperately as we grimly watched the vast desert flash by outside the van windows.

“What’s that?” Eric spoke up suddenly, squinting at something on the horizon. “It looks like some sort of building.” We all peered intently at the mysterious structure as our van drew closer to it.

Khalid smiled. “It is an American military checkpoint.” Incredible relief flooded through me, and I whispered a fervent prayer of thanks. The faces of my fellow hostages lit up with new hope, and I heard several quiet exclamations of praise and thanks.

Nasir and the other Fedayeen were arguing loudly in Arabic, and Khalid and I laughed slightly as we listened. Apparently, they had no recollection of this checkpoint being here. According to Nasir’s vehement protests, it hadn’t been here three days ago. I smiled, knowing that it didn’t matter whether the checkpoint had been here previously or not. It was too late to turn back. We would have to keep going.

My smile faded, and my heart skipped a beat as I scanned the interior of the van. I knew what would likely happen next. “Everybody take cover. Protect as much of your body as you can. There’s probably going to be a gunfight before this is over."

The US Marine guard standing outside of the checkpoint booth waved to attract attention. With his jaw set determinedly, Nasir ignored him.

The soldier held up his rifle in warning. “Checkpoint! Stop!” he shouted in broken Arabic.

Still, Nasir ignored him. I closed my eyes briefly. Please, God....

Empty shell casings bounced across the windshield of the van as the Marines fired a volley of warning shots into the air. I pitched forward in my seat as our van stopped abruptly.

Before I had time to process what was happening, the enraged Fedayeen shouldered their rifles and returned fire.

Heavy gunfire from both sides was now echoing around us. Surrounded by angry Fedayeen, we cowered on the floor in the back of the van and covered our heads and necks as best we could. Spent bullet casings and shards of broken glass rained down around us.

A sudden sharp pain tore through my shoulder, and I yelped in surprise. What was that?

Had I been hit by a stray shot, or a shard of glass? Trembling, I curled into a tighter ball and huddled closer to the floor.

At last, with all ammunition spent, Nasir and the other remaining Fedayeen climbed out of the bullet-riddled van with their hands raised in surrender. They were quickly and unceremoniously handcuffed and taken away. I tried not to look at the limp forms that were pulled out of the van along with them.

The Marines had clearly not expected to find five terrified hostages along with the insurgents, and they scrambled to help us out of the van.

I was trembling so violently that my teeth were chattering, and I could barely hold myself upright. Several pairs of hands eased me down into a folding chair.

A team of military medics offered granola bars and water bottles as they treated the cuts and bruises that nearly all of us had received.

A blond ponytailed female medic knelt down next to my chair with a first-aid kit. “What did you do, go swimming in the broken glass?” she asked wryly, examining the dozens of small cuts that covered my face and arms. “Do they hurt?” I felt all of them, and they were beginning to throb and sting. I nodded. “We can fix that,” the young woman said cheerfully, gently smoothing ointment onto the worst of the cuts. I smiled gratefully.

Noticing the crimson stain that was spreading rapidly across the white fabric of my shirt, she carefully rolled up my sleeve. “You’ve got quite a nasty-looking gash here on your shoulder,” she told me, frowning slightly. “It looks like a bullet graze wound. I’ll have someone take a look at it. For now, let me clean it up a little.”

I gritted my teeth as she gently cleaned the bleeding wound and deftly bandaged my shoulder in gauze and tape. “There. I’m going to see if I can find you an ice pack for those bruises. Would you like anything else?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. Thank you.” She smiled at me, collected her supplies, and stepped away.

Satisfied that we were in somewhat decent condition after our ordeal, the Marines turned their attention to helping us into a Humvee. We would be handed over to another unit, and stay at their base for a short while before boarding an airplane that would take us back to Kuwait, and from there to the United States.

In the pocket of my skirt was a small Bible verse card that I had kept from Nasir. As I settled into the backseat of the Humvee, I pulled the crumpled card out of my pocket and looked at it.

What in the world.....?

My head jerked up, and I stared at the medic that had treated me. She looked exactly like the angel on the front of the card.

I looked at the card, then at the medic, back to the card, and finally back at the medic again. She gave me a small, mysterious smile as she stepped into the walled checkpoint booth.

“Wait!” I called out desperately, but she was out of earshot. Before I could say anything else, our Humvee was pulling away from the checkpoint and into the streets of Kirkuk.

I never did find out that Marine medic’s true identity. Later, we were told that there were no Marines stationed in that area, and that our descriptions of the soldiers did not match those in any military unit.

Whatever the explanation, I know without a doubt that someone was watching out for us that day.

As for exactly who that female Marine was, I’ll let you decide for yourself....

-End-

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Publication Date: 03-17-2010

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