Prologue
Iran…
Justin Sanchez lifted his camera and focused the lens on the women by the well. It was a million degrees out, and they were each covered from head to toe. He’d been in Iran for six days and had been following the Canadian army around during their peacekeeping duties. So far there hadn’t been much action which he felt strange for where he was.
There had been military chatter suggesting Iraqi insurgents were in the area but after six days of photographing civilians Justin was looking for something exciting. He was looking for that money shot. One that could make the cover of Time-Life or National Geographic. As a freelance journalist, Justin was always looking for the next best story.
He’d been all over the world photographing things that would scare and disturb most people. Put himself in situations where his life was at risk. Justin was a thrill seeker, and he loved his job. He had come to Iran for a big story but was finding only boredom. He had the feeling the military babysitters he was stuck with had been ordered to keep him out of the line of fire. He was screwed.
Justin crouched down for a more dramatic angle when the soldiers behind him answered some static on their radios. The soldiers seemed suddenly worked up, and one called him over while the others readied their weapons. “It’s time to go.” The soldier said grabbing Justin by the arm and dragging him to the waiting Humvee.
Suddenly there was a high-pitched squealing sound and the building across the square was blown to pieces. The town’s people screamed and scattered. Women grabbed the children and ran for cover as another building was destroyed. Justin pulled away and lifted his camera; he had to get this on film. This was the story he’d been looking for. He was in the heart of the action.
The whole town was engulfed in gunfire. A bullet whizzed by his head, and Justin ducked. That one came way too close. A soldier shoved him toward the vehicle and this time Justin went. He jumped into the Humvee as a bomb went off next to them toppling the Humvee on its side. Justin braced himself as the vehicle rolled slamming his head into the roof. The windows shattered around him. Justin put up his hands to shield his face from the broken glass.
The chaos around him seemed to slow, his head was throbbing, and his pulse was racing. Justin rolled on to his side and crawled out of the demolished Humvee through the broken rear window on his belly. His camera was nowhere to be seen. Justin crawled to a nearby ditch and huddled in a ball praying a bomb didn’t land right next to him. He was suddenly in the heart of the action and wishing for the quiet calm they had only moments ago.
People were dying all around him. Justin looked up and spotted his camera near the totalled Humvee. If he lost that camera, all this death would be for nothing. Justin got up and keeping low he bolted to the Humvee to retrieve his camera. With his back to the mangled vehicle, Justin began taking pictures of the insanity around him, capturing the tragedy of this village.
He paused when twenty feet away he spotted a small child draped over the body of its mother, the world exploding around it. It was a sight that pulled at the heartstrings. It was a sight the world had to see. He took a few shots just as he heard the squealing sound of another bomb falling. Justin ducked low and ran across the square straight for the child. He snatched the child up and ran for the ditch to take cover just as the bomb landed where the child had been. Trying to catch his breath as he looked back at the devastation a Canadian soldier found him and dragged him out of the line of fire.