Hd13 | Hours- The Secret Soldiers Of Benghazi

From the SMC, a frantic radio call crackled through the Annex’s comms: “We’re taking fire! The compound is breached! They’re burning the building!”

Inside the tactical operations center, a CIA technical officer named "Bob" (the same one who had delayed the rescue) was now pale with terror. He kept calling for air support—AC-130 gunships, fighter jets, anything. But the response from Washington was a maddening loop: "Unavailable. Stand by." (In reality, a Predator drone circled overhead, unarmed, streaming live video to the White House—where officials watched the battle unfold but ordered no military intervention.)

Finally, after 20 agonizing minutes, Bob relented. "Go. Get them." HD13 Hours- The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi

"We can’t get to him!" Wickland coughed, blood on his lips. "The smoke… the fire…"

Minutes bled. The radio screamed: Ambassador Chris Stevens and Sean Smith, a communications specialist, were trapped in the burning safe house. The attackers—a coalition of al-Qaeda-linked militants and Ansar al-Sharia—were pouring through the gates, armed with PKM machine guns, RPG-7s, and diesel-soaked rags. From the SMC, a frantic radio call crackled

At dusk, the GRS team wound down their day. Some worked out in the makeshift gym. Others cleaned their rifles—HK416s, suppressed MP5s, and M4s loaded with 77-grain Open Tip Match rounds. Rone Woods was on the phone with his wife, promising to be home soon for his daughter’s birthday. "I love you," he said. "I’ll call you tomorrow."

From three directions, mortar rounds began walking in. The first explosion cratered the parking lot, flipping a Land Cruiser onto its side. The GRS took positions along the north and east walls. Rone Woods climbed to the roof of the villa—the highest point, with no cover—manning a Mk 48 machine gun. "I need eyes on the north ridge," he said calmly over the radio. "They’re setting up a mortar tube." He kept calling for air support—AC-130 gunships, fighter

Prologue: The Ghosts of War