Those of us who work in Iraq and were there when this all took place (and knew Andi and Michael) know that the real people to blame are the operations folks who allowed Andi's PSD mission to go into Yarmouk that day. It was 'common knowledge' that Yarmouk, at that time, was an incredibly dangerous neighborhood. They should have, too. Shame on them -- the security company NDI hired to protect their principals, that is. I wouldn't blame the Hungarian guy in the car: he was acting upon instinct in the midst of an incredibly hostile situation . . . who knows what any of us would have done. Michael is venting his anger, and considering his loss, I am sympathetic to that. I am also sympathetic to the PSDs who put their lives on the line to protect us ??? they keep us diplomats safe every day. Blackwater, DyCorp, etc. ??? they do a much better job than the media allows the world to see. (And no, they are not shooting Iraqis left-and-right like Sept. 16th incident would lead you to believe!) The people to rightfully blame in Andi???s case? The guys behind a desk, collecting facts, determining grid coordinates, etc. They should have known better than to make a move into Yarmouk --- Those of us in the Embassy did. NDI???s security company should be investigated.
‘I’m Sorry We Couldn’t Do More’
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I nod.
"My friend, he was in her car. He died, too, he was like a brother to me. He has a wife and a two-year-old baby back in Hungary."
I listen.
"They don't give a s––t, you know, a [bodyguard] from Hungary gets killed, then it is no big deal, but she wasn't the only one who died.
"And you have to understand," he says, in broken English, "that I am usually in the client car. For the past six months I have been in the client car. I was not in the client car, my friend was instead. Brother to me."
So what happened?
They were at the IIP compound for about an hour and a half. He says he has been there seven times. That the last trip there was a month ago. I have talked to people with post-traumatic stress disorder before, watched as they recounted their experiences in combat, and he gets the same look as he goes through the events of that day.
He is about 15 meters behind her car. For whatever reason—it is unclear to him, or he can't say—her car stops. Four or five men run at the car. At this point, there is a massive amount of shooting. Or maybe there is shooting before, too. The sequence of events, from his telling, is hard to pin down. There is an explosion. The car he is in crashes. Crashes into what? He can't say. The car is receiving fire from all directions—above, to the sides, everywhere, from what he guesses has to be at least 30 shooters. The security team leader, a Croatian, is sitting shotgun in the third car. The Croatian steps out of the car to move toward Andi's vehicle. It is unclear whether the explosion has happened yet, whether there still is a vehicle to move to. The team leader, says Jacob, is almost immediately killed. His boss, shot dead. Bullets are now pouring into his car. There is smoke everywhere. Jacob is in the backseat. The driver of his car, an Iraqi, has also been shot. Two hundred rounds hit our car, says Jacob, maybe more.
It is hazy, he says, foggy. He doesn't really know what happens next. It sounds like he stays in the car, in the backseat. It seems like he does not return fire or make any attempt to move to Andi's car. Maybe it is too late. Maybe he is in shock. Maybe the training does not kick in, and he is overwhelmed by what is going on. He hunkers down in the car and waits, and at some point he leaves the car to hide in a building with the wounded Iraqi driver of his car.
X has been listening carefully to the conversation. "There is tunnel vision," he points out. "When s––t like this happens, it's hard to see everything."
I ask if the guards from the Iraqi Islamic Party compound responded.
He smirks and shakes his head, no.
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