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(My first attempt at a story)
Prelude
“Evening Peter”
Peter Jenkins had the sunken oak wood door open wide. Jared Foster was just walking outside lighting a cigarette with his one good hand; the other had a handcuff to a black leather suitcase. Foster was wearing a charcoal suit, standing about 5’6 and a slight athletic build. His peppered grey hair was slicked back, not moving even with the slight wind that blew. A brow of sweat was glistening on his forehead.
“Evening Sir, busy day?” Jenkins responded with a slight Indian accent. He bowed courtesy as Jared passed by. Jenkins was a doorman at an exclusive resort in the Egypt. Celebrities and high profile businessmen passed through here on a daily basis. The location was deemed a no fly zone for any plane or helicopter in case paparazzi wanted the latest photo of the celebrity du’jour. Security was with an armed force that shot first and asked questions later; privacy was key here. Jenkins knew who it was safe to talk to, and who just to nod and continue his job. He had been a doorman for 20 years; he’d seen which celebrity had an affair long before any tabloid.
The weather was slightly warmer then normal for fall; there had been recent news report about a killer heat wave moving towards the Middle East. Europe was the hardest hit, with near to 100 people killed from dehydration. The winds had shifted and sent his killer wave south.
“Today was a great day,” replied Foster as he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, “Finally made some leeway”. He inhaled deeply and exhaled a rich cloud of cigarette smoke that hung or a second, before being whisked away by the breeze. Foster stood on the entrance steps, staring absently at the horizon. The sound of a car approaching drifting him back to reality.
A large black Cadillac Limo stopped feet in front them, as a large built man wearing a dead black suit exited from the front passenger side. The man stepped around the car and opened the back door for Foster. He was scanning the area surrounding him; over his right ear was a concealed earphone, a white telephone wire heading to his back. His jacket was undone, and a holster was swaying about with his movements.
“Sir”
“Well,” said Foster, turning to Jenkins, “I’ll see you again, Peter”. Foster stepped on the remains of his smoke, and entered into the vehicle. Jenkins nodded, and returned to his original position. The man closed the door, and pulled his left cufflink to his mouth.
“We’re leaving now”
He stepped around and entered the front passenger seat, slamming the door. The vehicle took off towards the entrance of the property, some twenty feet away. Foster resting the suitcase on his lap, fumbled inside his jacket, and pulled out a cell phone. He punched in some numbers and waited.
“We do not have a deal yet sir……yes sir I understand……I’ll be back in Washington by dawn.”
Foster was nodding his head absently at the empty backseat as the voice on the other line was talking,
“Mr. President, if we release him, we may never find him again, he has a large following now and-“
Foster never completed his sentence; the sheer force of the explosion liquefied his organs instantly. The vehicle ripped open, flipping the vehicle onto it side. The inferno melted the surrounding concrete. The explosion of the car, took out the entire front end of the resort, glass sprayed everywhere and the marble front had cracks going from floor to ceiling. The bodies of the three men were so badly injured, that there wasn’t anything larger then a tooth collected.
Chapter One
04:58
Tyler Dorsa thoughts on his dream were pulled from his head as he awoke to the whooping sound of the siren. He woke up immediately and did a quick scan with his eyes. He was on board the USS Essex lying in his bunk, photos and calendars sprayed the various walls, offering a contrast color from the drab grey of metal.
The Essex is a Nimitz class carrier built in Newport News, VA two years ago. Its overall size was three and half football fields and was powered by two nuclear reactors. It was one of the fastest ships at sea, however, as Tyler found out, when they were stationed, the constant noise of jets and Unmanned Arial Vehicles or UAV’s launching from the few decks above them kept you awake. Normally, the slow sway of the waves while moving, could rock any man to sleep, although this close to land, there wasn’t anything to push this ship around.
Two weeks here and the drills of preparation had been burned into all of the crews minds. They were at their peak, constantly training; Tyler’s squad ran the perimeter of the Essex two times, twice a day with full gear. Tyler had been in the Marines for 17 years, gaining the rank of First Lieutenant and squad leader of Echo for three years. When Dorsa wasn’t working out, he and the other squad leaders were in the situation room, learning the surrounding geography and possible battle plans in case the Washington Envoy didn’t work out. Everyone had a place to be, and a job to do. They were part of this newly formed US Rapid Tactical Response Team, a mixture of Army, Navy, and Air Force. There were a few “specialists” on board, Mercenaries mostly, although Washington preferred the name “Lone Wolf” now. It allowed them to have funding available for “task’s best left unsaid”.
The Rapid Tactical Response Team was formed shortly after 9/11. The President was receiving flak with the way he handled the aftermath of that brutal massacre and when that Michael Moore film came out, the preverbal **** hit the fan. He wrote a bill, and had it buried under various other bills and promises. I don’t even think the Senate knew exactly what they were approving, but it through unanimously. The RTRT were the first line of defense against Terrorism and Warlords from countries that supported Terrorism. They were there when Suddam Hassen was captured. The RTRT intelligence was tracking his every move, although you’ll never see any newspaper clipping about it. There was a certain control over aspects of intelligence and technology that were never shown on CNN, or known by the public.
Tyler gave head a shake and rubbed his eyes, removing any gunk that had been formed in his sleep. He slide out of his wall cot and quickly rotated to his foot locker. The cots were about three feet high and there were two to a row. The cots could make you claustrophobic due to their size, but they did the job. The foot locker’s here were a joke; it reminded Tyler of being back in high school. He threw out his one piece jumpsuit, and placed his freshly polished boots by the lower bunk. The room was already cleared, however noises from crewmen could be heard just outside the hatch, passing by in a hurried walk.
Tyler was a true American, six foot three, large build. He had a crew cut right down to the buds of his hair, showing only a hint of sandy blonde. He had shaved maybe a day before, so the five o’clock shadow had only just began to appear.
He suited up, placing his boots on, and quickly tied them up. He did another quick scan around the cot and locker, to see if he had everything. His bunk was clean, other then the blankets askew, and the locker was closed, no evidence of anything left behind. Dorsa quickly exited out the bunk room, closing the hatch behind, and move towards the armory. The steady rush of soldiers passed by him in the opposite direction, convoluted conversations were being passed flippantly around. With the siren going off, he couldn’t hear too much.
“….heard that the Envoy was shot…..”
“…time to kill some rag-heads…”
“…some bomb took out their convoy…”
“…sleeping with WHO?.....”
Tyler made his group map this place out in their minds, in case the lights go out or smoke and fire make it impossible to get through. All he could remember is it roughly two floors down and 20 steps from the stairwell on the right. Every third or fourth step, he needed to keep raising his feet over the compartment hatch frame. They once threw a drill with the alarm and all the hatches sealed down automatically; it took some time to get to the armory, having to bypass two or three floors at a time. He slid down the stairwell and move towards a cue. Some men are coming out of the armory with their weapons and explosive kits, Special Ops, Engineers, and Medics.
The line was moving at a steady pace, all waiting for the gunnery sergeant, or “Gunny” as they called him. Early Fifties, about five foot six, shaved completely bald and was wearing an eye-patch. He was a good man, he lost his eye in an explosion on a mission he’s not allowed to speak about, however get enough drinks in him, and he’ll start mentioning stories about Vietnam, and his clan. Dorsa didn’t know anyone who knew more about weapons and ammo, Gunny held the ship record on field-stripping and re-assembling an M-16. This morning he was overseeing some raw recruits, standing over their shoulders with his arms folded and glaring at them with his one good eye. Tyler collected his helmet and “snakeskin” armor from a counter in front of him. The armor is next generation warfare, light, mobile, and breathable, but able to stop a standard small caliber NATO round. He slides the armor on and tightens it, moving to the back of the next line.
“Card” a Sergeant has his hand out but is not even looking at him. Tyler hands him a metallic brail card that he slides into a computer. The top right corner had his name and rank engraved to it. It was called “The Gun Club Card”; this little card gives the officer in charge a number that corresponds to a locker with Tyler’s weapon. He then doesn’t have to worry about re-calibrating. The card slides into a reader for a computer, the computer tracks the location of the weapon, and if and when it’s allowed to be removed from the vault cabinets in the back. The sergeant at arms needed to approve and activate the card every time for the firing range.
“7284” he shouts out. Within seconds, another man comes from the back with a PKM, greased up and looking brand new. He drops the PKM onto the counter and throws a backpack at Tyler. Tyler glances at the backpack, it had 2 Fragmentation grenades along the belt, pistol with 5 clips holstered to a slot under the armpits, knife on the side and ammo belts for the PKM.
Within a few seconds he’s loaded and out the door. Clipping the backpack on and slugging the PKM over his shoulder, he moves to the communications room. In there, Tyler receives a radio transmitter and a forearm PDA. The transmitter is a sight to sight LOSAR device, about the size of a small hearing aid. Dorsa wraps a Velcro pad around to his throat, attached are two small round pads that rest by his Adams apple, they would be the transmitters. As long as Dorsa saw his group, he could chat with them without even being heard in a whispering environment. The signal was encrypted by the best minds money could buy, so the enemy would just hear an almost stuttering with digital beeps. The forearm PDA was just a glorified digital map and compass. It could be strapped anywhere there’s fabric and the location would be transmitted to it via GPS. It was completely scalable, and would show the Primary squad or Tyler’s in the case, in green and other squads and wolves in blue. A few nice features are that it shows the squad the objective that the CO has transmitted, Artillery Zone, and real-time UAV overhead images. If there wasn’t a transmitter located on your squad or surrounding men, it would show up as red on the UAV and red usually meant that an enemy is nearby. The transmitters varied from person to person, located on the uniform, could be the underwear, shirt, or socks, so that the enemy couldn’t remove it if captured. It had a 2 week battery life span that would continuously transmit your GPS location threw burst communication that was nearly impossible to trace. With this, nobody gets left behind now.
Dorsa arrived topside, his eyes squinting a bit due to the sun slowly starting it rise in the East. The busy activity of the Essex crew preparing the jets and choppers are almost deafening. Jets were being prepared for catapulting off on early bombing runs and recon work. He placed his headset on, and strapped the PDA to his forearm. He glanced around looking for the men of Echo squad, and placed on his backpack. He started to secure his knife and sidearm straps when the radio chatter begins.
“Listen Up,” Tyler glanced forward, to the deserted catapult of the Essex half expecting to see the Commander standing in front of him; however he was probably communicating from the Situation Room. “We have 5 positions we need to hold today. We have air, sea and artillery support if needed. Echo Squad, your men will hit this position located on your PDA”. The PDA lights up and puts a dagger over the area of an airfield just south of them. “Resistance is light, and we should play it by the book”. At the top right hand of the GPS, the word Zatar appears. On the PDA, a small beachhead has been marked with a friendly indicator. It showed a mobile Anti-Aircraft and APC covered by some light stationary weapons inside what appears to be remains of clay housing. The radio chirps in with static pop,
“Mount up”
Tyler looks over to the left and sees his squad moving towards an empty Blackhawk that’s slowly powering up. They enter in and two of them clamber into the seats for the mini guns, replacing their hats for helmets on the chopper’s seat. Dorsa un-slings his PKM, hops in the back, and switches the safety off. Looking back up, he sees a Cobra lifting off as the two Blackhawk’s are still being boarded; the prop’s spinning more rapidly with every rotation.
He studies the terrain on the PDA, engraining it into his mind. It was mostly level in this area with only a couple hills off over to the East. There’s a road, for lack of a better term, coming from a small village that leads straight through to the airfield before branching north to the secured beachhead. Some snapshots from the most recent UAV showed no enemy activity there earlier.
A deafening boom rattles Dorsa and his crew as a jet catapults itself skyward. He glances around the Blackhawk and see that all of his squad is inside. Tapping his throat to activate the LOSAR, “Go, go, go”. The chopper begins to liftoff. He looks down to his PDA and taps the transmit button, and his squad immediately looks down at their PDA studying the new information.
They had just cleared the deck of the Essex and the pilot dropped to an altitude of 10 meters off the water. There was a mist from the water as the props push the water away, creating circular whitecaps. The second Blackhawk is banking off to the right, lowering down to the beachhead as the crew jumps out to acquire there ground vehicles. Echo’s chopper rises a bit as neared the land. Tyler checks his hands, as they shake from the ride and readies his PKM. He scans the ground, knowing that his trust is with the gunners right now. With all the movement and vibration, he’d be lucky to hit an elephant at point blank range.
A commotion on the other side of the chopper causes Dorsa to do a quick turn; “Enemy Jet Spotted” shouts one of the crew. The Left Minigun of the Blackhawk starts up as the force of the gun sways them off-hilter, the pilot compensating. The alarm of the chopper begins to go, bathing the crew in a deep red light. The light and noises meant the jet is trying to gain a missile lock, and shoot them down. There’s nothing Dorsa can do on this side, but pray. He take in a deep breath and close his eyes. The air in his lungs is a mixture of the chopper exhaust, dust and sea spray. The chopper makes a hard bank to the right, just as the Mobile AA launches 4 missiles at the jet. He opens his eyes to see the missiles come alarmingly close to the chopper, and passes under their feet. The Jet makes a hard bank and drops its chaff as it retreats eastbound.
The nerves onboard are now on edge, as a communitive sigh could be heard by all over the radio. Tyler looks over to the mobile AA, watching as the engine comes to life, spitting out exhaust. It kicks up the dirt as the treads haul the beast forward. Right behind it, the remainder of the squad boards an APC and wheels spin gaining traction on the soft sand. Just before they move out of sight, the 2 vehicles begin forward towards the airstrip. He glances at his watch, making a mental note; they’ll be there 30 minutes before them, just us 6 infantry holding the fort before the big guns arrive.
Tyler leans back into the chopper and peer through the front window. The airstrip is just coming into view, and looks heavily fortified. If intelligence is right, it should be a minimum of personal down there. The chopper begins it rapid descent on the North side of the strip. It hovers around a meter off the ground as Echo squad jump out and take cover. The temperature was rising up and would get hotter with every minute under the cloudless sky. The chopper starts to rise up in return to the Essex and collect more crew. The power of the Blackhawk whips the sand surrounding them; Tyler covers his eyes as can’t see anything from the dust clouds, his whole body is being sandblasted.
From out of nowhere a MEC gunship rises from a hill it used as cover. The Blackhawk, unmanned, is a sitting duck. The pilot must have the warning sounds going off, as he drops his chaff from below the choppers belly. The gunship opens up with its 50mm cannon. It hits dead on as the bullets rip through the hull of the transport chopper. The pilot begins evasive action; however, it’s too late. The Blackhawk begins to pour black smoke and small flames begin to rise from the engine. The MEC gunship is relentless, pounding bullet after bullet into the side of the Blackhawk.
BOOM
The Blackhawk explodes midair into fiery debris. Pieces of the chopper fly in every direction. The squad all runs to take cover from the flying shrapnel. The shell of the chopper falls to earth and lands with a metallic thud. The pilot could not have survived however Tyler moves forward to see if there was any hope. He was only about 20 feet away when the gas tanks explode, sending what’s left of the chopper to oblivion. The shock of the blast threw him back, throwing his head to the ground and winding him. As he starts to come too, he felt this hand on him, dragging his body back to the wall we had just landed by.
As he regained his senses, he could hear screaming that he thought was his own. The squad was checking him for any wounds and shook their head at the medic. There were a few scratches, but otherwise fine. The enemy gunship had disappeared, hidden back from where it came from. Tyler’s blurred vision was shaken off, and the ringing noise in his ear began to fade, although there was still a screaming sound. He looked around and saw that the medic was working on another man in the squad. He was just a kid, barely 20 years old. His cheeks we’re flushed from the pain, his helmet was off and lying beside him. He had a chunk of metal from the chopper, protruding from his leg. His screaming pierced the otherwise tranquil environment. 2 other men from the squad we’re holding him down as the rest of them we’re scanning the hills, making sure no other surprises were in wait. One of the men holding him down placed the hilt of his knife in the kid’s mouth, something for him to clench his teeth on. The blood from his wound trickled down his leg and mixed with the sand creating this deep red paste.
The medic, with his gear out, injected this boy with, what looked to be morphine. He took his hands to the metal and ripped out the piece. Bits of skin, muscle and cloth were still attached to this foreign object as he threw the piece to ground nearby. The boy, in shock, started to convulse and then passed out from the pain. The medic immediately began his work and placed his fingers inside the wound, pulling out smaller fragments. The blood was flowing freely onto the sand, Tyler had to look away before the urge to vomit was to strong.
“Doc, You going to be okay here?” Tyler’s voice was deep, much deeper then what you would expect. The medic did a quick glance around, scanning the area and nodded.
“Okay, the rest of us need to secure this position”.
Dorsa retrieves his PKM from the ground and wipes the sand from it. The remaining four men begin to climb over the barrel wall, and Tyler peers over to see the other side. On the compound, four small buildings and a vehicle bay lay deserted. A fifty caliber rifle lined the 2 major walls, and a strategic TOW launcher at the East and Southeast Entrance. Off to the right are 2 airstrips and a helicopter pad. There doesn’t appear to be any movement from anywhere on the compound. Tyler drops his head down, and returned to his remaining squad.
“Okay, you two” pointing to Leflore with his M-16/M203 and another with a portable AT cannon, “keep to the left side, behind the buildings. Looks empty, but it could be a trap. GO.” They move quickly and silently over the wall. Dorsa looks over and sees them dashing to the far left wall behind one of the buildings and go out of sight. Dorsa glanced over to the other man with him. He can’t seem to remember his name, he mentally suggests thinking one up once there’s time; all he’s carrying is a shotgun, which is no good with this open distance that he could see. “Okay, move along to the right side by the copter pad, there’s a TOW sitting just by that hill. Cover the main entrance.”
He climbs over and sticks to the right wall. Tyler’s crouching by the barrel wall for a minute, surveying the scene. He can see the two men on the right appear just over beyond the wall, and then the guy on the left appear and man the TOW. Thoughts race through Tyler’s head. “Empty, a fully functional base empty”. He does a quick side glance at the doc, and just around the area, if they loose this medic, they’re screwed. He climbs over the wall, and does a crouch walk right down towards a flagpole,
“If there’s anyone here, I’ll draw there fire while the group flanks them.” Thinking to himself.
The static of my LOSAR begins, giving Tyler a brief scare. “Sir, all the build’n empty and boarded up, it’ta a ghost town here” a thick Cajun accent comes there. That thick accent belonged to Leflore, a thirty-something Corporal transferred from Biloxi. He could handle an assault rifle like a conductor handles a baton. He had done some changes to his M203 to add a little more “sauce” as he put it. If and when Gunny knew what he did, he’d be field-stripping every weapon on the Essex for a month.
“Alright, man the makeshift bunker on the East entrance till our reinforcements arrive” Tyler responds. He glances over and see them scurrying up the ladder. “Listen up; we have 20 minutes until the vehicles arrive. I don’t want those MEC bastards surprising us again, so keep your eyes and ears open.” He rests the PKM on a circular sandbag wall surrounding a flagpole and walks back towards the South wall to check with the medic. Tyler decides to take the entrance on the Southeast, instead of climbing over the barrel wall again. As he clears the corner, he could see the medic placing a thermal blanket over the kid. His hands are covered in blood, along with most of his clothes. Just before he covers his head, he reaches down and pulls on the dog tags. Tyler walks over to the medic and just stares at the blanket, where the lifeless body of a 20 year old kid lies.
“Cut a main artery…..I didn’t have the tools to seal it. He bled to death in this ****ing desert. GOD DAMMIT.” The doc’s fist connects with the barrel wall, a metallic watery sound echoes out. He hands Tyler the dog tag, and he examine the name; L. Bratmen. Tyler places the dog tag in his chest pocket, and starts to look towards what was believe to be the South. Dust trails were approaching, meaning the vehicles will be arriving shortly.
“Grab your gear, we’ll carry him around to the other side, the compound looks empty” Tyler mentions. He reaches down and grabs the kids’ arms as the doc throws his backpack on and grabs his ankles. A sharp wind picks up and blows the thermal blanket off the kid. His head sways and bobs about on his lifeless body as they carry him inside.
The doc leads the way walking backwards towards the entrance of the base. They return back to where the flagpole was and place the body on the ground. Tyler picks up my PKM and begins to move back to the Southeast entrance. He taps my com, “Status Check”.
“Sir, we have an enemy chopper east of our position. Seems to be circling around some small town, doesn’t seem to be discharging any weapons. There are also two fumes of black smoke rising up. The MEC could be raising the ground over there preparing for us.”
Tyler looks down at his PDA; taps a few buttons and the map zooms to an oil refinery. His mind starts to race. “It’s possible that the MEC are destroying it, knowing full well that’s the staple their after. However it could also be from excess gas fumes being vented to the exhaust pipes and lite up”. He places his fingers and rubs the bridge of his nose; it’s a bad habit of his that he’s had since collage, usually does it when under stress. His mind kicked into overdrive again. “If there raising the earth in the surrounding area, it won’t be a few scrims, it will be full-out war”. The sounds of the vehicle engines are close by now and he can see that the APC has moved in front. The APC moves inside the compound as the mobile AA sticks to the outer path just outside of the base. The mobile AA parks itself outside the East entrance. The APC kicks up the dust as it drives by him, making his eyes water.
“Fall back to the flag in the center, we’re done here now. We’ll move to the next point. There’s a small town that overlooks a majority of this valley. If we can take it, then we’ve halfway done.”
He begins to walk back to the flagpole. The APC is parked dead in the center of the base, the engine still growling. Some men are raising an American flag up on the flagpole as the others begin to rip down the barricades and scan inside the buildings. Tyler could see some men placing landmines near the entrances. He gives himself an inward chuckle, “if the MEC decide to go all Fast and Furious in here, they’ll have a nasty surprise.” He walks to the back of the APC, in there, a Comm. Officer sitting inside using the wire.
“The Blackhawk never made it back. Shot out of the sky by a MEC chopper. Shrapnel took out one of my men also, so I need to pull one from your group. We’re proceeding forward to the next key objective. We should be there in 45 minutes on foot if we have a no actio-”
“SIR”
Tyler looks over and sees the engineer he had mounting the TOW running over towards him.
“Sir, I think you better come see this” he says pointing over to the hangers. The communications officer feverishly writes down the information Tyler relayed and returns to the headset. Tyler and the Engineer start to walk over towards the hill before the runways. A group of soldiers were prying open the front sliding door. Even from the ridge of the hill, he could see what was inside. As if on cue, a beam of light focused down on the runway; inside the previously barred hanger were a few ground vehicles, transport chopper and a MEC bomber. The crew was using a beat-up old Vodnik to tow out the vehicles from their metallic grave. Tyler pats the engineer’s shoulder and with a smile, taps his LOSAR,
“Men, Grease Monkey has found us a ride.”
Leflore responds back “Who?”
Chapter Two
10:47
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Tyler looks down again at the new satellite scan photos. The small village that Echo was going to hit now holds a fair amount of MEC soldiers and some amour. More re-enforcements were arriving from a bridge on the far side of the village. Tyler looks up and sees Leflore looking over the map and UAV photos for some weakness. Echo squad was on their own until more reinforcements show up here and the vehicles can move forward, until then, there only 2 squads moving up. The other squad, Bravo, already left, heading south to an oil pipeline cutoff valve. If the MEC decided to go and blow the refinery, they could at least cut the flow of oil. That precious black gold was a hard find these days; Tyler recalled cursing as he pulled into the gas station last time in the U.S.
Leflore looked up at him, his hand placed on the paperwork before him due to the steady breeze of an overhead fan wanting the paper to dance. The engineer crew had this place nearly complete; power, water and AC, if you count overhead fans as AC. It worked though; it was close to 110 degrees outside. Tyler glanced outside towards Grease Monkey, pitying him out there trying to repair an engine of a MEC buggy with the balmy sun overhead.
“Dis’ look like a fool‘s run” he said. Tyler needed to get used to that thick Cajun accent, although they’d been together for a few years now. “Goin in ‘dere, with all dat ar’mour, goin to get us dead real quick”.
“If Grease Monkey can come through on that MEC buggy, I think our only way is to return to the beachhead and down that north road on the other side of the mountain. We’ll park the buggy just north and move up the hills. We should be able to see what we’re getting into then.”
Leflore chuckled and shook his head, lowering it back down and scanning the map. He found the name grease monkey amusing once Tyler explained it to him. Tyler’s mind was thinking up a battle plan. “Our only other option could be coming from the south hills, however that could be expected. It was the easier way, and odds are that they have it covered. The one downfall from the north was that we would need to double-back and that would take more time”.
On the right side of the table was a list of personal currently at their location, he needed to replace the kid with the shrapnel. Eighty percent of the team here was engineers with no real combat experience. He flipped over the page and saw a crosshair symbol, usually meaning a sniper specialist. Thinking it over, “We could use one for this op; he’d have a better view from the hills then any of us. His name was G. Osborne. Slight problem was that he was a wolf, according to his record notes, it was written, doesn’t play well with others”.
Grease monkey walked in and grabbed a bottle of water from the desk. He was drenched in sweat and his arms and forehead had engine grease stains on them. “Look like the grease monkey live up to his name” Leflore said grinning. That gave them a slight chuckle at the thought. Looking over at him, Tyler asks “How’s it going?”
“Well sir, the engine is in good order. There’s a guy right now supplying the ammo for that chain gun on the roof. Our one downfall is gas, we may only have few miles; Things’ on fumes. There are some guys looking around the grounds for a fuel container, so we might get lucky.”
With this new information, Tyler was staring back at the maps “Seems that whatever contentment you’re on, fuel is a problem. If we don’t have the fuel, our only option is the south. Doing a hike to the beachhead and around would take too much time.” Tyler looks up to Leflore, who is already shaking his head back at him. “I swear the man’s psychic sometimes, and already knows what I have planned.” Tyler thinks with half smile. Leflore walks out of the room and starts to light a smoke.
Tyler follows outside; the dry heat instantly warming his desert fatigues. He raises his arm over his head, to block the sun. Leflore’s walking over to another building; believed it to be barracks as it was the only building to have cots. Half of it’s been converted to a medical ward, as medicine is in short supply. Echo’s Doc has been in there for the most part helping with the setup. A Blackhawk begins to liftoff; dropping its supplies of med packs and ammo crates that are now scattered around the pad. The runway now holds 2 jets, one US and the other a MEC. The engineers have the panels open and are repairing something inside it. A couple of vehicles pass by with personal and crates, being dropped off by the entrances of the base. Hard to believe 2 hours ago, this place was empty.
Tyler heads over to a man who’s attempting to balance the tip of his knife in the palm of his hand and show it off for his buddies. As he approach, he place’s it away, comes to attention, and salutes.
Tyler returns his salute, “At Ease soldier. I’m looking for a man named Osborne, has you seen him?”
“Sorry sir, I don’t know who you mean” he replies in a brisk nature.
“He’s a Merc -- Wolf, he would be the only one in sniper gear”
“Yes sir, other there” points the private. He points toward the vehicle bay, still empty until more arrived from the beachhead. Tyler nods in thanks to the private and starts to walk toward the bay, scanning his eyes for Osborne. The personal sheet had a small 4 x 5 photo; however in full gear you never could recognize someone from those.
Inside the bay, Tyler stands still allowing his eyes to adjust for the darkness. He could hear music from a walkman blaring out, and with every step further inside the music becomes come clear as if heavy metal concert is being performed in a hollow cave. Resting in the corner there’s a man wearing his full sniper blanket. Tyler walks up to him, and notices Ipod earphones; the white headphones contrasting against his green/brown uniform and face paint. His eyes are closed and his breathing deep, possibly asleep. If he was a solider, Tyler would have remanded him, however he have no authority with this wolf, they were independent contractors
Tyler gave a slight nudge to Osborne’s foot; no response. He bent down to meet Osborne on eye level, and gave a nudge to his knee now. Osborne opens his eyes and does a quick up-down glance at Tyler and closes his eyes again.
“Not interested” he replies. His voice is husky, almost raspy; the sound of a man who would have smoked 200 cigarettes in one go.
“I have a job for you” Tyler begins “I need you to come-”
“Am I alone?” the music from the headphone stops, as his eyes lock onto Tyler’s.
“No, my team and I would-”
“Not interested” and the music kicks back in. Sounds like classic heavy metal, distorted guitars and loud drums.
Defeated, and unable to take command of him, Tyler stands up and starts to walk back to the buildings, so he can scan more personnel. The sun hits him as he enter back out into the open compound, Leflore stomping out his cigarette as he starts to walk up to him.
“Who ‘dat?” exhaling the last of his smoke
“Man named Osborne, according to his records he’s a good sniper. He’s a wolf though, didn’t want to join up with us.”
“We need him?” Leflore’s eyes never went off the bay.
“Well, 6 men are better then 5” Tyler replied back.
“Let me go encourage him” Leflore states as he walks towards the darkened bay.
Tyler stood under the sun for a few minutes, the contrast between the shadows inside the bay and the sun make it hard for him to see inside. The last time Laflore “encouraged” someone, both Leflore and Tyler spent a week in the Brig, although to Tyler’s defense, he had no clue it was the general’s daughter. Laflore was demoted back to a lance Corporal; although he was lucky he didn’t get discharged. Within a few seconds Leflore comes walking out.
“He’s in, and I need 200 dollars” Leflore says, wiping his nose from what looks like blood.
“Why?” Tyler slowly responded.
“He needs a new Ipod” Leflore states with a smile.
Chapter Three
13:12
Tyler couldn’t help but spit every few seconds from the amount of sand flying into his mouth. The jeep was traveling along a road, or what barely resembled one, towards a set of mountains on the East of the airstrip. Leflore was traveling at a near reckless speed, cornering around bushes and large branches lying before them. Grease Monkey was manning the fifty cal, scanning his head over the horizon. The doc and Osborne were sitting in the back. Every once in a while, Osborne would curse something under his breath, daggers in his eyes staring at Leflore’s back.
Tyler had the engineers back at the airfield siphon the gas from the various other vehicles around them and then deposit it into this jeep. They had about a quarter of gas before they would be walking around, and Tyler prayed that they wouldn’t need it again unless it was a hasty retreat. The commander was prepared for a real-time UAV for them to figure out the best approach.
Leflore began to slow down as the approached the edge of the mountains. Monkey had rest his sights upon the mountain scanning for any movement. Tyler pressed the transmit button on his PDA, and waited. They began to file out of the jeep, Leflore still with a smile on his face. “Man, you should come down to the bayou wit me sometime; I show you some real driving then, through the swamp”.
The PDA began to chime in, a radar signal showing over Echo’s heads. Tyler glances down and zooms in on the map, about 12 red dots start to beep inside the zone. The dots are slowly moving around the village; Tyler would guess its infantry guarding the area.
“Here’s the plan, Leflore, you and Grease Monkey area going to stick to the West side of the mountain, there’s a low lying concrete wall that snakes to a vehicle bay. You’re too sneak into there and plant some mines, so that the enemy won’t be able to surprise us”.
Leflore and Monkey move off on foot, keeping close to the side of the mountain. They stagger their pattern apart from each other, keeping a safe distance.
“Doc, I want you here. If there are any problems, take the jeep and pick us up. If that’s not an option, then get the hell outta here, report back to the airfield.”
Doc nods his head, and jumps onto the back of the jeep, spinning it towards the hill.
“Osborne, I need you on the-“
“I know what to do, chief” hissed Osborne venomously, his teeth gritted. “I’ll be up there on the edge of that hill, picking off those ****ing **** ants”
Osborne starts to walk away, as Tyler grabs his shoulder swinging him back around.
“I need to know this WON’T be a problem working with us” Tyler growled. Osborne was beginning to **** Tyler off, and Osborne knew it; and enjoyed it.
“I’ll keep you’re boys alive….even that ****ing Cajun piece of –“
“His name is Leflore. Remember that,” Tyler could feel the anger brewing inside him. This was defiantly a problem.
Osborne just grunted and shrugged off Tyler’s grip. He began to move up the hill. Slowly sliding up on his belly and placing the bi-pod of the M95 on the hilltop. Leflore and Monkey were out of sight now. Tyler needed to be quick, in case of any problems.
He sprinted eastward towards what look like a small river. The PDA was beeping red dots all to his north, so he had a clear path. Once he was knee deep in the water, he worked his way northbound towards a small dock. Two small boats with outback motors were moored to swaying in the light waves. They had a single machine gun mounted on the front of them. The ammo was dry though, the bolt exposed. Tyler dropped to his belly slowly, not to make a sound with the water and crawled up to the edge of the hill by the dock.
He unfolded his PKM bi-pod and rested himself with footing from the beam planted in the ground behind him. His eyes were scanning for all the threats that the PDA was giving off. He counted seven men walking around outside, and glanced down to the map. The PDA was showing nine men now, so two of them were either very well hidden or inside the buildings. From his view, he could barely make out Osborne on the hill and could see Monkey and Leflore crawling along the edge of the stone wall to the south. He tapped the LOSAR.
“Leflore, you and Monkey are clear to climb over”
They immediately flung their bodies over the wall and move towards the wooden shack. The crouch-walk behind the building out of site, and Tyler holds his breath. The radio chirps in,
“Sir….I have a target moving towards the vehicle bay…Permission to take him out” Osborne voice still had a bitterness to it.
“Unless you can guarantee that it will not attract any attention, do not take the shot”
Leflore pipes in, “take the shot, we’ll drag his body into the bay”
The man drops instantly just in front of the shed. There’s a small snuff noise from Osborne’s direction, although Tyler didn’t know if he heard it or just imagined he heard it. Leflore’s arms reach out and pull the body inside. Tyler scans the area; none of the group appears to have noticed. A man comes walking out of the furthest building towards a group of other men. They appear to be talking in some language that Tyler didn’t understand. One of the men walks out of site to the north, behind another building. The other men begin to walk as a group back towards the furthest building. Tyler catches something on them, they appear to priming their weapons and their eyes are peering far right, roughly in Osborne’s direction.
“Jesus, Osborne…they caught onto-“
The man who disappeared from view swings around the corner in a jeep much like there own, pulling a handbrake turn. A gunner begins to spray round after round towards the mountain area where Osborne was. The other group of men scatter and move towards various items for cover. Automatic rifle fire hits the shed where Leflore and Monkey are, the radio pipes in,
“Jesus H. Chr-“
Tyler opens up with the PKM spraying the jeep with bullets. The driver slumps over, dead from the initial spray. The gunner turns towards Tyler, but a shot from Osborne drops him instantly. Some of the men start to shoot towards Tyler, the dirt flings all around him from the ricochets; he swings the PKM towards them. A large explosion sends 3 of them flying as Leflore and Monkey emerge from the shed running for the nearest shelter. Leflore is reloading his M203 as he dives behind some boxes, Monkey dives over a wall towards one of the houses. Tyler opens with the PKM towards the group closest to him. The rounds rip through one man hurling him over the boxes. Another explosion happens behind the men, as Leflore drops back again to the boxes. Monkey has his shotgun out and is spraying the area blindly. The door to the house opens behind him as he rolls to his back. A solider shots wildly, but expected his target to be standing, aiming over Monkey’s head. The soldier’s eyes grow wide as he sees the muzzle of a shotgun pointblank in his face. Monkey squeezed the trigger, sending the mans brain to the other side of the building.
Tyler continues to fire round for round at the group until the sizzle noise grows more apparent from his weapon. The PKM begins to overheat, the current round jammed in the barrel. Tyler pushes the PKM out of the way, and pulls out his automatic handgun in a fluid motion. Osborne chirps over the radio,
“I see a flammable substance…..aiming for it”
Osborne’s shot pierced what was a small gas container by a TOW. The fuel mixed with the ammunition and the explosion threw the remaining men skyward. Tyler sees a man fly over him fully engulfed in flames before landing partially in the river. The smell of burning flesh grew more apparent with every step Tyler took towards him. The man was lying face down in the water, his back still ignited with fire.
Tyler stares down at his PDA, the UAV still scanning, showing no more red dots. Shaking with the excitement that just happened, Tyler plants his ass on the ground, staring towards the body that now slowly floated downstream. The sound of the jeep was coming from his left, Osborne and Doc pulled up by the dock. Leflore and Monkey were strolling over from their hideout. Doc sat down beside Tyler, pulled out a smoke and lite it. Without saying anything, doc hands a smoke over to Tyler already smoldering. He takes a deep breath in and exhales the toxic cloud.
Things were only going to harder from here.
Prelude
“Evening Peter”
Peter Jenkins had the sunken oak wood door open wide. Jared Foster was just walking outside lighting a cigarette with his one good hand; the other had a handcuff to a black leather suitcase. Foster was wearing a charcoal suit, standing about 5’6 and a slight athletic build. His peppered grey hair was slicked back, not moving even with the slight wind that blew. A brow of sweat was glistening on his forehead.
“Evening Sir, busy day?” Jenkins responded with a slight Indian accent. He bowed courtesy as Jared passed by. Jenkins was a doorman at an exclusive resort in the Egypt. Celebrities and high profile businessmen passed through here on a daily basis. The location was deemed a no fly zone for any plane or helicopter in case paparazzi wanted the latest photo of the celebrity du’jour. Security was with an armed force that shot first and asked questions later; privacy was key here. Jenkins knew who it was safe to talk to, and who just to nod and continue his job. He had been a doorman for 20 years; he’d seen which celebrity had an affair long before any tabloid.
The weather was slightly warmer then normal for fall; there had been recent news report about a killer heat wave moving towards the Middle East. Europe was the hardest hit, with near to 100 people killed from dehydration. The winds had shifted and sent his killer wave south.
“Today was a great day,” replied Foster as he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, “Finally made some leeway”. He inhaled deeply and exhaled a rich cloud of cigarette smoke that hung or a second, before being whisked away by the breeze. Foster stood on the entrance steps, staring absently at the horizon. The sound of a car approaching drifting him back to reality.
A large black Cadillac Limo stopped feet in front them, as a large built man wearing a dead black suit exited from the front passenger side. The man stepped around the car and opened the back door for Foster. He was scanning the area surrounding him; over his right ear was a concealed earphone, a white telephone wire heading to his back. His jacket was undone, and a holster was swaying about with his movements.
“Sir”
“Well,” said Foster, turning to Jenkins, “I’ll see you again, Peter”. Foster stepped on the remains of his smoke, and entered into the vehicle. Jenkins nodded, and returned to his original position. The man closed the door, and pulled his left cufflink to his mouth.
“We’re leaving now”
He stepped around and entered the front passenger seat, slamming the door. The vehicle took off towards the entrance of the property, some twenty feet away. Foster resting the suitcase on his lap, fumbled inside his jacket, and pulled out a cell phone. He punched in some numbers and waited.
“We do not have a deal yet sir……yes sir I understand……I’ll be back in Washington by dawn.”
Foster was nodding his head absently at the empty backseat as the voice on the other line was talking,
“Mr. President, if we release him, we may never find him again, he has a large following now and-“
Foster never completed his sentence; the sheer force of the explosion liquefied his organs instantly. The vehicle ripped open, flipping the vehicle onto it side. The inferno melted the surrounding concrete. The explosion of the car, took out the entire front end of the resort, glass sprayed everywhere and the marble front had cracks going from floor to ceiling. The bodies of the three men were so badly injured, that there wasn’t anything larger then a tooth collected.
Chapter One
04:58
Tyler Dorsa thoughts on his dream were pulled from his head as he awoke to the whooping sound of the siren. He woke up immediately and did a quick scan with his eyes. He was on board the USS Essex lying in his bunk, photos and calendars sprayed the various walls, offering a contrast color from the drab grey of metal.
The Essex is a Nimitz class carrier built in Newport News, VA two years ago. Its overall size was three and half football fields and was powered by two nuclear reactors. It was one of the fastest ships at sea, however, as Tyler found out, when they were stationed, the constant noise of jets and Unmanned Arial Vehicles or UAV’s launching from the few decks above them kept you awake. Normally, the slow sway of the waves while moving, could rock any man to sleep, although this close to land, there wasn’t anything to push this ship around.
Two weeks here and the drills of preparation had been burned into all of the crews minds. They were at their peak, constantly training; Tyler’s squad ran the perimeter of the Essex two times, twice a day with full gear. Tyler had been in the Marines for 17 years, gaining the rank of First Lieutenant and squad leader of Echo for three years. When Dorsa wasn’t working out, he and the other squad leaders were in the situation room, learning the surrounding geography and possible battle plans in case the Washington Envoy didn’t work out. Everyone had a place to be, and a job to do. They were part of this newly formed US Rapid Tactical Response Team, a mixture of Army, Navy, and Air Force. There were a few “specialists” on board, Mercenaries mostly, although Washington preferred the name “Lone Wolf” now. It allowed them to have funding available for “task’s best left unsaid”.
The Rapid Tactical Response Team was formed shortly after 9/11. The President was receiving flak with the way he handled the aftermath of that brutal massacre and when that Michael Moore film came out, the preverbal **** hit the fan. He wrote a bill, and had it buried under various other bills and promises. I don’t even think the Senate knew exactly what they were approving, but it through unanimously. The RTRT were the first line of defense against Terrorism and Warlords from countries that supported Terrorism. They were there when Suddam Hassen was captured. The RTRT intelligence was tracking his every move, although you’ll never see any newspaper clipping about it. There was a certain control over aspects of intelligence and technology that were never shown on CNN, or known by the public.
Tyler gave head a shake and rubbed his eyes, removing any gunk that had been formed in his sleep. He slide out of his wall cot and quickly rotated to his foot locker. The cots were about three feet high and there were two to a row. The cots could make you claustrophobic due to their size, but they did the job. The foot locker’s here were a joke; it reminded Tyler of being back in high school. He threw out his one piece jumpsuit, and placed his freshly polished boots by the lower bunk. The room was already cleared, however noises from crewmen could be heard just outside the hatch, passing by in a hurried walk.
Tyler was a true American, six foot three, large build. He had a crew cut right down to the buds of his hair, showing only a hint of sandy blonde. He had shaved maybe a day before, so the five o’clock shadow had only just began to appear.
He suited up, placing his boots on, and quickly tied them up. He did another quick scan around the cot and locker, to see if he had everything. His bunk was clean, other then the blankets askew, and the locker was closed, no evidence of anything left behind. Dorsa quickly exited out the bunk room, closing the hatch behind, and move towards the armory. The steady rush of soldiers passed by him in the opposite direction, convoluted conversations were being passed flippantly around. With the siren going off, he couldn’t hear too much.
“….heard that the Envoy was shot…..”
“…time to kill some rag-heads…”
“…some bomb took out their convoy…”
“…sleeping with WHO?.....”
Tyler made his group map this place out in their minds, in case the lights go out or smoke and fire make it impossible to get through. All he could remember is it roughly two floors down and 20 steps from the stairwell on the right. Every third or fourth step, he needed to keep raising his feet over the compartment hatch frame. They once threw a drill with the alarm and all the hatches sealed down automatically; it took some time to get to the armory, having to bypass two or three floors at a time. He slid down the stairwell and move towards a cue. Some men are coming out of the armory with their weapons and explosive kits, Special Ops, Engineers, and Medics.
The line was moving at a steady pace, all waiting for the gunnery sergeant, or “Gunny” as they called him. Early Fifties, about five foot six, shaved completely bald and was wearing an eye-patch. He was a good man, he lost his eye in an explosion on a mission he’s not allowed to speak about, however get enough drinks in him, and he’ll start mentioning stories about Vietnam, and his clan. Dorsa didn’t know anyone who knew more about weapons and ammo, Gunny held the ship record on field-stripping and re-assembling an M-16. This morning he was overseeing some raw recruits, standing over their shoulders with his arms folded and glaring at them with his one good eye. Tyler collected his helmet and “snakeskin” armor from a counter in front of him. The armor is next generation warfare, light, mobile, and breathable, but able to stop a standard small caliber NATO round. He slides the armor on and tightens it, moving to the back of the next line.
“Card” a Sergeant has his hand out but is not even looking at him. Tyler hands him a metallic brail card that he slides into a computer. The top right corner had his name and rank engraved to it. It was called “The Gun Club Card”; this little card gives the officer in charge a number that corresponds to a locker with Tyler’s weapon. He then doesn’t have to worry about re-calibrating. The card slides into a reader for a computer, the computer tracks the location of the weapon, and if and when it’s allowed to be removed from the vault cabinets in the back. The sergeant at arms needed to approve and activate the card every time for the firing range.
“7284” he shouts out. Within seconds, another man comes from the back with a PKM, greased up and looking brand new. He drops the PKM onto the counter and throws a backpack at Tyler. Tyler glances at the backpack, it had 2 Fragmentation grenades along the belt, pistol with 5 clips holstered to a slot under the armpits, knife on the side and ammo belts for the PKM.
Within a few seconds he’s loaded and out the door. Clipping the backpack on and slugging the PKM over his shoulder, he moves to the communications room. In there, Tyler receives a radio transmitter and a forearm PDA. The transmitter is a sight to sight LOSAR device, about the size of a small hearing aid. Dorsa wraps a Velcro pad around to his throat, attached are two small round pads that rest by his Adams apple, they would be the transmitters. As long as Dorsa saw his group, he could chat with them without even being heard in a whispering environment. The signal was encrypted by the best minds money could buy, so the enemy would just hear an almost stuttering with digital beeps. The forearm PDA was just a glorified digital map and compass. It could be strapped anywhere there’s fabric and the location would be transmitted to it via GPS. It was completely scalable, and would show the Primary squad or Tyler’s in the case, in green and other squads and wolves in blue. A few nice features are that it shows the squad the objective that the CO has transmitted, Artillery Zone, and real-time UAV overhead images. If there wasn’t a transmitter located on your squad or surrounding men, it would show up as red on the UAV and red usually meant that an enemy is nearby. The transmitters varied from person to person, located on the uniform, could be the underwear, shirt, or socks, so that the enemy couldn’t remove it if captured. It had a 2 week battery life span that would continuously transmit your GPS location threw burst communication that was nearly impossible to trace. With this, nobody gets left behind now.
Dorsa arrived topside, his eyes squinting a bit due to the sun slowly starting it rise in the East. The busy activity of the Essex crew preparing the jets and choppers are almost deafening. Jets were being prepared for catapulting off on early bombing runs and recon work. He placed his headset on, and strapped the PDA to his forearm. He glanced around looking for the men of Echo squad, and placed on his backpack. He started to secure his knife and sidearm straps when the radio chatter begins.
“Listen Up,” Tyler glanced forward, to the deserted catapult of the Essex half expecting to see the Commander standing in front of him; however he was probably communicating from the Situation Room. “We have 5 positions we need to hold today. We have air, sea and artillery support if needed. Echo Squad, your men will hit this position located on your PDA”. The PDA lights up and puts a dagger over the area of an airfield just south of them. “Resistance is light, and we should play it by the book”. At the top right hand of the GPS, the word Zatar appears. On the PDA, a small beachhead has been marked with a friendly indicator. It showed a mobile Anti-Aircraft and APC covered by some light stationary weapons inside what appears to be remains of clay housing. The radio chirps in with static pop,
“Mount up”
Tyler looks over to the left and sees his squad moving towards an empty Blackhawk that’s slowly powering up. They enter in and two of them clamber into the seats for the mini guns, replacing their hats for helmets on the chopper’s seat. Dorsa un-slings his PKM, hops in the back, and switches the safety off. Looking back up, he sees a Cobra lifting off as the two Blackhawk’s are still being boarded; the prop’s spinning more rapidly with every rotation.
He studies the terrain on the PDA, engraining it into his mind. It was mostly level in this area with only a couple hills off over to the East. There’s a road, for lack of a better term, coming from a small village that leads straight through to the airfield before branching north to the secured beachhead. Some snapshots from the most recent UAV showed no enemy activity there earlier.
A deafening boom rattles Dorsa and his crew as a jet catapults itself skyward. He glances around the Blackhawk and see that all of his squad is inside. Tapping his throat to activate the LOSAR, “Go, go, go”. The chopper begins to liftoff. He looks down to his PDA and taps the transmit button, and his squad immediately looks down at their PDA studying the new information.
They had just cleared the deck of the Essex and the pilot dropped to an altitude of 10 meters off the water. There was a mist from the water as the props push the water away, creating circular whitecaps. The second Blackhawk is banking off to the right, lowering down to the beachhead as the crew jumps out to acquire there ground vehicles. Echo’s chopper rises a bit as neared the land. Tyler checks his hands, as they shake from the ride and readies his PKM. He scans the ground, knowing that his trust is with the gunners right now. With all the movement and vibration, he’d be lucky to hit an elephant at point blank range.
A commotion on the other side of the chopper causes Dorsa to do a quick turn; “Enemy Jet Spotted” shouts one of the crew. The Left Minigun of the Blackhawk starts up as the force of the gun sways them off-hilter, the pilot compensating. The alarm of the chopper begins to go, bathing the crew in a deep red light. The light and noises meant the jet is trying to gain a missile lock, and shoot them down. There’s nothing Dorsa can do on this side, but pray. He take in a deep breath and close his eyes. The air in his lungs is a mixture of the chopper exhaust, dust and sea spray. The chopper makes a hard bank to the right, just as the Mobile AA launches 4 missiles at the jet. He opens his eyes to see the missiles come alarmingly close to the chopper, and passes under their feet. The Jet makes a hard bank and drops its chaff as it retreats eastbound.
The nerves onboard are now on edge, as a communitive sigh could be heard by all over the radio. Tyler looks over to the mobile AA, watching as the engine comes to life, spitting out exhaust. It kicks up the dirt as the treads haul the beast forward. Right behind it, the remainder of the squad boards an APC and wheels spin gaining traction on the soft sand. Just before they move out of sight, the 2 vehicles begin forward towards the airstrip. He glances at his watch, making a mental note; they’ll be there 30 minutes before them, just us 6 infantry holding the fort before the big guns arrive.
Tyler leans back into the chopper and peer through the front window. The airstrip is just coming into view, and looks heavily fortified. If intelligence is right, it should be a minimum of personal down there. The chopper begins it rapid descent on the North side of the strip. It hovers around a meter off the ground as Echo squad jump out and take cover. The temperature was rising up and would get hotter with every minute under the cloudless sky. The chopper starts to rise up in return to the Essex and collect more crew. The power of the Blackhawk whips the sand surrounding them; Tyler covers his eyes as can’t see anything from the dust clouds, his whole body is being sandblasted.
From out of nowhere a MEC gunship rises from a hill it used as cover. The Blackhawk, unmanned, is a sitting duck. The pilot must have the warning sounds going off, as he drops his chaff from below the choppers belly. The gunship opens up with its 50mm cannon. It hits dead on as the bullets rip through the hull of the transport chopper. The pilot begins evasive action; however, it’s too late. The Blackhawk begins to pour black smoke and small flames begin to rise from the engine. The MEC gunship is relentless, pounding bullet after bullet into the side of the Blackhawk.
BOOM
The Blackhawk explodes midair into fiery debris. Pieces of the chopper fly in every direction. The squad all runs to take cover from the flying shrapnel. The shell of the chopper falls to earth and lands with a metallic thud. The pilot could not have survived however Tyler moves forward to see if there was any hope. He was only about 20 feet away when the gas tanks explode, sending what’s left of the chopper to oblivion. The shock of the blast threw him back, throwing his head to the ground and winding him. As he starts to come too, he felt this hand on him, dragging his body back to the wall we had just landed by.
As he regained his senses, he could hear screaming that he thought was his own. The squad was checking him for any wounds and shook their head at the medic. There were a few scratches, but otherwise fine. The enemy gunship had disappeared, hidden back from where it came from. Tyler’s blurred vision was shaken off, and the ringing noise in his ear began to fade, although there was still a screaming sound. He looked around and saw that the medic was working on another man in the squad. He was just a kid, barely 20 years old. His cheeks we’re flushed from the pain, his helmet was off and lying beside him. He had a chunk of metal from the chopper, protruding from his leg. His screaming pierced the otherwise tranquil environment. 2 other men from the squad we’re holding him down as the rest of them we’re scanning the hills, making sure no other surprises were in wait. One of the men holding him down placed the hilt of his knife in the kid’s mouth, something for him to clench his teeth on. The blood from his wound trickled down his leg and mixed with the sand creating this deep red paste.
The medic, with his gear out, injected this boy with, what looked to be morphine. He took his hands to the metal and ripped out the piece. Bits of skin, muscle and cloth were still attached to this foreign object as he threw the piece to ground nearby. The boy, in shock, started to convulse and then passed out from the pain. The medic immediately began his work and placed his fingers inside the wound, pulling out smaller fragments. The blood was flowing freely onto the sand, Tyler had to look away before the urge to vomit was to strong.
“Doc, You going to be okay here?” Tyler’s voice was deep, much deeper then what you would expect. The medic did a quick glance around, scanning the area and nodded.
“Okay, the rest of us need to secure this position”.
Dorsa retrieves his PKM from the ground and wipes the sand from it. The remaining four men begin to climb over the barrel wall, and Tyler peers over to see the other side. On the compound, four small buildings and a vehicle bay lay deserted. A fifty caliber rifle lined the 2 major walls, and a strategic TOW launcher at the East and Southeast Entrance. Off to the right are 2 airstrips and a helicopter pad. There doesn’t appear to be any movement from anywhere on the compound. Tyler drops his head down, and returned to his remaining squad.
“Okay, you two” pointing to Leflore with his M-16/M203 and another with a portable AT cannon, “keep to the left side, behind the buildings. Looks empty, but it could be a trap. GO.” They move quickly and silently over the wall. Dorsa looks over and sees them dashing to the far left wall behind one of the buildings and go out of sight. Dorsa glanced over to the other man with him. He can’t seem to remember his name, he mentally suggests thinking one up once there’s time; all he’s carrying is a shotgun, which is no good with this open distance that he could see. “Okay, move along to the right side by the copter pad, there’s a TOW sitting just by that hill. Cover the main entrance.”
He climbs over and sticks to the right wall. Tyler’s crouching by the barrel wall for a minute, surveying the scene. He can see the two men on the right appear just over beyond the wall, and then the guy on the left appear and man the TOW. Thoughts race through Tyler’s head. “Empty, a fully functional base empty”. He does a quick side glance at the doc, and just around the area, if they loose this medic, they’re screwed. He climbs over the wall, and does a crouch walk right down towards a flagpole,
“If there’s anyone here, I’ll draw there fire while the group flanks them.” Thinking to himself.
The static of my LOSAR begins, giving Tyler a brief scare. “Sir, all the build’n empty and boarded up, it’ta a ghost town here” a thick Cajun accent comes there. That thick accent belonged to Leflore, a thirty-something Corporal transferred from Biloxi. He could handle an assault rifle like a conductor handles a baton. He had done some changes to his M203 to add a little more “sauce” as he put it. If and when Gunny knew what he did, he’d be field-stripping every weapon on the Essex for a month.
“Alright, man the makeshift bunker on the East entrance till our reinforcements arrive” Tyler responds. He glances over and see them scurrying up the ladder. “Listen up; we have 20 minutes until the vehicles arrive. I don’t want those MEC bastards surprising us again, so keep your eyes and ears open.” He rests the PKM on a circular sandbag wall surrounding a flagpole and walks back towards the South wall to check with the medic. Tyler decides to take the entrance on the Southeast, instead of climbing over the barrel wall again. As he clears the corner, he could see the medic placing a thermal blanket over the kid. His hands are covered in blood, along with most of his clothes. Just before he covers his head, he reaches down and pulls on the dog tags. Tyler walks over to the medic and just stares at the blanket, where the lifeless body of a 20 year old kid lies.
“Cut a main artery…..I didn’t have the tools to seal it. He bled to death in this ****ing desert. GOD DAMMIT.” The doc’s fist connects with the barrel wall, a metallic watery sound echoes out. He hands Tyler the dog tag, and he examine the name; L. Bratmen. Tyler places the dog tag in his chest pocket, and starts to look towards what was believe to be the South. Dust trails were approaching, meaning the vehicles will be arriving shortly.
“Grab your gear, we’ll carry him around to the other side, the compound looks empty” Tyler mentions. He reaches down and grabs the kids’ arms as the doc throws his backpack on and grabs his ankles. A sharp wind picks up and blows the thermal blanket off the kid. His head sways and bobs about on his lifeless body as they carry him inside.
The doc leads the way walking backwards towards the entrance of the base. They return back to where the flagpole was and place the body on the ground. Tyler picks up my PKM and begins to move back to the Southeast entrance. He taps my com, “Status Check”.
“Sir, we have an enemy chopper east of our position. Seems to be circling around some small town, doesn’t seem to be discharging any weapons. There are also two fumes of black smoke rising up. The MEC could be raising the ground over there preparing for us.”
Tyler looks down at his PDA; taps a few buttons and the map zooms to an oil refinery. His mind starts to race. “It’s possible that the MEC are destroying it, knowing full well that’s the staple their after. However it could also be from excess gas fumes being vented to the exhaust pipes and lite up”. He places his fingers and rubs the bridge of his nose; it’s a bad habit of his that he’s had since collage, usually does it when under stress. His mind kicked into overdrive again. “If there raising the earth in the surrounding area, it won’t be a few scrims, it will be full-out war”. The sounds of the vehicle engines are close by now and he can see that the APC has moved in front. The APC moves inside the compound as the mobile AA sticks to the outer path just outside of the base. The mobile AA parks itself outside the East entrance. The APC kicks up the dust as it drives by him, making his eyes water.
“Fall back to the flag in the center, we’re done here now. We’ll move to the next point. There’s a small town that overlooks a majority of this valley. If we can take it, then we’ve halfway done.”
He begins to walk back to the flagpole. The APC is parked dead in the center of the base, the engine still growling. Some men are raising an American flag up on the flagpole as the others begin to rip down the barricades and scan inside the buildings. Tyler could see some men placing landmines near the entrances. He gives himself an inward chuckle, “if the MEC decide to go all Fast and Furious in here, they’ll have a nasty surprise.” He walks to the back of the APC, in there, a Comm. Officer sitting inside using the wire.
“The Blackhawk never made it back. Shot out of the sky by a MEC chopper. Shrapnel took out one of my men also, so I need to pull one from your group. We’re proceeding forward to the next key objective. We should be there in 45 minutes on foot if we have a no actio-”
“SIR”
Tyler looks over and sees the engineer he had mounting the TOW running over towards him.
“Sir, I think you better come see this” he says pointing over to the hangers. The communications officer feverishly writes down the information Tyler relayed and returns to the headset. Tyler and the Engineer start to walk over towards the hill before the runways. A group of soldiers were prying open the front sliding door. Even from the ridge of the hill, he could see what was inside. As if on cue, a beam of light focused down on the runway; inside the previously barred hanger were a few ground vehicles, transport chopper and a MEC bomber. The crew was using a beat-up old Vodnik to tow out the vehicles from their metallic grave. Tyler pats the engineer’s shoulder and with a smile, taps his LOSAR,
“Men, Grease Monkey has found us a ride.”
Leflore responds back “Who?”
Chapter Two
10:47
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Tyler looks down again at the new satellite scan photos. The small village that Echo was going to hit now holds a fair amount of MEC soldiers and some amour. More re-enforcements were arriving from a bridge on the far side of the village. Tyler looks up and sees Leflore looking over the map and UAV photos for some weakness. Echo squad was on their own until more reinforcements show up here and the vehicles can move forward, until then, there only 2 squads moving up. The other squad, Bravo, already left, heading south to an oil pipeline cutoff valve. If the MEC decided to go and blow the refinery, they could at least cut the flow of oil. That precious black gold was a hard find these days; Tyler recalled cursing as he pulled into the gas station last time in the U.S.
Leflore looked up at him, his hand placed on the paperwork before him due to the steady breeze of an overhead fan wanting the paper to dance. The engineer crew had this place nearly complete; power, water and AC, if you count overhead fans as AC. It worked though; it was close to 110 degrees outside. Tyler glanced outside towards Grease Monkey, pitying him out there trying to repair an engine of a MEC buggy with the balmy sun overhead.
“Dis’ look like a fool‘s run” he said. Tyler needed to get used to that thick Cajun accent, although they’d been together for a few years now. “Goin in ‘dere, with all dat ar’mour, goin to get us dead real quick”.
“If Grease Monkey can come through on that MEC buggy, I think our only way is to return to the beachhead and down that north road on the other side of the mountain. We’ll park the buggy just north and move up the hills. We should be able to see what we’re getting into then.”
Leflore chuckled and shook his head, lowering it back down and scanning the map. He found the name grease monkey amusing once Tyler explained it to him. Tyler’s mind was thinking up a battle plan. “Our only other option could be coming from the south hills, however that could be expected. It was the easier way, and odds are that they have it covered. The one downfall from the north was that we would need to double-back and that would take more time”.
On the right side of the table was a list of personal currently at their location, he needed to replace the kid with the shrapnel. Eighty percent of the team here was engineers with no real combat experience. He flipped over the page and saw a crosshair symbol, usually meaning a sniper specialist. Thinking it over, “We could use one for this op; he’d have a better view from the hills then any of us. His name was G. Osborne. Slight problem was that he was a wolf, according to his record notes, it was written, doesn’t play well with others”.
Grease monkey walked in and grabbed a bottle of water from the desk. He was drenched in sweat and his arms and forehead had engine grease stains on them. “Look like the grease monkey live up to his name” Leflore said grinning. That gave them a slight chuckle at the thought. Looking over at him, Tyler asks “How’s it going?”
“Well sir, the engine is in good order. There’s a guy right now supplying the ammo for that chain gun on the roof. Our one downfall is gas, we may only have few miles; Things’ on fumes. There are some guys looking around the grounds for a fuel container, so we might get lucky.”
With this new information, Tyler was staring back at the maps “Seems that whatever contentment you’re on, fuel is a problem. If we don’t have the fuel, our only option is the south. Doing a hike to the beachhead and around would take too much time.” Tyler looks up to Leflore, who is already shaking his head back at him. “I swear the man’s psychic sometimes, and already knows what I have planned.” Tyler thinks with half smile. Leflore walks out of the room and starts to light a smoke.
Tyler follows outside; the dry heat instantly warming his desert fatigues. He raises his arm over his head, to block the sun. Leflore’s walking over to another building; believed it to be barracks as it was the only building to have cots. Half of it’s been converted to a medical ward, as medicine is in short supply. Echo’s Doc has been in there for the most part helping with the setup. A Blackhawk begins to liftoff; dropping its supplies of med packs and ammo crates that are now scattered around the pad. The runway now holds 2 jets, one US and the other a MEC. The engineers have the panels open and are repairing something inside it. A couple of vehicles pass by with personal and crates, being dropped off by the entrances of the base. Hard to believe 2 hours ago, this place was empty.
Tyler heads over to a man who’s attempting to balance the tip of his knife in the palm of his hand and show it off for his buddies. As he approach, he place’s it away, comes to attention, and salutes.
Tyler returns his salute, “At Ease soldier. I’m looking for a man named Osborne, has you seen him?”
“Sorry sir, I don’t know who you mean” he replies in a brisk nature.
“He’s a Merc -- Wolf, he would be the only one in sniper gear”
“Yes sir, other there” points the private. He points toward the vehicle bay, still empty until more arrived from the beachhead. Tyler nods in thanks to the private and starts to walk toward the bay, scanning his eyes for Osborne. The personal sheet had a small 4 x 5 photo; however in full gear you never could recognize someone from those.
Inside the bay, Tyler stands still allowing his eyes to adjust for the darkness. He could hear music from a walkman blaring out, and with every step further inside the music becomes come clear as if heavy metal concert is being performed in a hollow cave. Resting in the corner there’s a man wearing his full sniper blanket. Tyler walks up to him, and notices Ipod earphones; the white headphones contrasting against his green/brown uniform and face paint. His eyes are closed and his breathing deep, possibly asleep. If he was a solider, Tyler would have remanded him, however he have no authority with this wolf, they were independent contractors
Tyler gave a slight nudge to Osborne’s foot; no response. He bent down to meet Osborne on eye level, and gave a nudge to his knee now. Osborne opens his eyes and does a quick up-down glance at Tyler and closes his eyes again.
“Not interested” he replies. His voice is husky, almost raspy; the sound of a man who would have smoked 200 cigarettes in one go.
“I have a job for you” Tyler begins “I need you to come-”
“Am I alone?” the music from the headphone stops, as his eyes lock onto Tyler’s.
“No, my team and I would-”
“Not interested” and the music kicks back in. Sounds like classic heavy metal, distorted guitars and loud drums.
Defeated, and unable to take command of him, Tyler stands up and starts to walk back to the buildings, so he can scan more personnel. The sun hits him as he enter back out into the open compound, Leflore stomping out his cigarette as he starts to walk up to him.
“Who ‘dat?” exhaling the last of his smoke
“Man named Osborne, according to his records he’s a good sniper. He’s a wolf though, didn’t want to join up with us.”
“We need him?” Leflore’s eyes never went off the bay.
“Well, 6 men are better then 5” Tyler replied back.
“Let me go encourage him” Leflore states as he walks towards the darkened bay.
Tyler stood under the sun for a few minutes, the contrast between the shadows inside the bay and the sun make it hard for him to see inside. The last time Laflore “encouraged” someone, both Leflore and Tyler spent a week in the Brig, although to Tyler’s defense, he had no clue it was the general’s daughter. Laflore was demoted back to a lance Corporal; although he was lucky he didn’t get discharged. Within a few seconds Leflore comes walking out.
“He’s in, and I need 200 dollars” Leflore says, wiping his nose from what looks like blood.
“Why?” Tyler slowly responded.
“He needs a new Ipod” Leflore states with a smile.
Chapter Three
13:12
Tyler couldn’t help but spit every few seconds from the amount of sand flying into his mouth. The jeep was traveling along a road, or what barely resembled one, towards a set of mountains on the East of the airstrip. Leflore was traveling at a near reckless speed, cornering around bushes and large branches lying before them. Grease Monkey was manning the fifty cal, scanning his head over the horizon. The doc and Osborne were sitting in the back. Every once in a while, Osborne would curse something under his breath, daggers in his eyes staring at Leflore’s back.
Tyler had the engineers back at the airfield siphon the gas from the various other vehicles around them and then deposit it into this jeep. They had about a quarter of gas before they would be walking around, and Tyler prayed that they wouldn’t need it again unless it was a hasty retreat. The commander was prepared for a real-time UAV for them to figure out the best approach.
Leflore began to slow down as the approached the edge of the mountains. Monkey had rest his sights upon the mountain scanning for any movement. Tyler pressed the transmit button on his PDA, and waited. They began to file out of the jeep, Leflore still with a smile on his face. “Man, you should come down to the bayou wit me sometime; I show you some real driving then, through the swamp”.
The PDA began to chime in, a radar signal showing over Echo’s heads. Tyler glances down and zooms in on the map, about 12 red dots start to beep inside the zone. The dots are slowly moving around the village; Tyler would guess its infantry guarding the area.
“Here’s the plan, Leflore, you and Grease Monkey area going to stick to the West side of the mountain, there’s a low lying concrete wall that snakes to a vehicle bay. You’re too sneak into there and plant some mines, so that the enemy won’t be able to surprise us”.
Leflore and Monkey move off on foot, keeping close to the side of the mountain. They stagger their pattern apart from each other, keeping a safe distance.
“Doc, I want you here. If there are any problems, take the jeep and pick us up. If that’s not an option, then get the hell outta here, report back to the airfield.”
Doc nods his head, and jumps onto the back of the jeep, spinning it towards the hill.
“Osborne, I need you on the-“
“I know what to do, chief” hissed Osborne venomously, his teeth gritted. “I’ll be up there on the edge of that hill, picking off those ****ing **** ants”
Osborne starts to walk away, as Tyler grabs his shoulder swinging him back around.
“I need to know this WON’T be a problem working with us” Tyler growled. Osborne was beginning to **** Tyler off, and Osborne knew it; and enjoyed it.
“I’ll keep you’re boys alive….even that ****ing Cajun piece of –“
“His name is Leflore. Remember that,” Tyler could feel the anger brewing inside him. This was defiantly a problem.
Osborne just grunted and shrugged off Tyler’s grip. He began to move up the hill. Slowly sliding up on his belly and placing the bi-pod of the M95 on the hilltop. Leflore and Monkey were out of sight now. Tyler needed to be quick, in case of any problems.
He sprinted eastward towards what look like a small river. The PDA was beeping red dots all to his north, so he had a clear path. Once he was knee deep in the water, he worked his way northbound towards a small dock. Two small boats with outback motors were moored to swaying in the light waves. They had a single machine gun mounted on the front of them. The ammo was dry though, the bolt exposed. Tyler dropped to his belly slowly, not to make a sound with the water and crawled up to the edge of the hill by the dock.
He unfolded his PKM bi-pod and rested himself with footing from the beam planted in the ground behind him. His eyes were scanning for all the threats that the PDA was giving off. He counted seven men walking around outside, and glanced down to the map. The PDA was showing nine men now, so two of them were either very well hidden or inside the buildings. From his view, he could barely make out Osborne on the hill and could see Monkey and Leflore crawling along the edge of the stone wall to the south. He tapped the LOSAR.
“Leflore, you and Monkey are clear to climb over”
They immediately flung their bodies over the wall and move towards the wooden shack. The crouch-walk behind the building out of site, and Tyler holds his breath. The radio chirps in,
“Sir….I have a target moving towards the vehicle bay…Permission to take him out” Osborne voice still had a bitterness to it.
“Unless you can guarantee that it will not attract any attention, do not take the shot”
Leflore pipes in, “take the shot, we’ll drag his body into the bay”
The man drops instantly just in front of the shed. There’s a small snuff noise from Osborne’s direction, although Tyler didn’t know if he heard it or just imagined he heard it. Leflore’s arms reach out and pull the body inside. Tyler scans the area; none of the group appears to have noticed. A man comes walking out of the furthest building towards a group of other men. They appear to be talking in some language that Tyler didn’t understand. One of the men walks out of site to the north, behind another building. The other men begin to walk as a group back towards the furthest building. Tyler catches something on them, they appear to priming their weapons and their eyes are peering far right, roughly in Osborne’s direction.
“Jesus, Osborne…they caught onto-“
The man who disappeared from view swings around the corner in a jeep much like there own, pulling a handbrake turn. A gunner begins to spray round after round towards the mountain area where Osborne was. The other group of men scatter and move towards various items for cover. Automatic rifle fire hits the shed where Leflore and Monkey are, the radio pipes in,
“Jesus H. Chr-“
Tyler opens up with the PKM spraying the jeep with bullets. The driver slumps over, dead from the initial spray. The gunner turns towards Tyler, but a shot from Osborne drops him instantly. Some of the men start to shoot towards Tyler, the dirt flings all around him from the ricochets; he swings the PKM towards them. A large explosion sends 3 of them flying as Leflore and Monkey emerge from the shed running for the nearest shelter. Leflore is reloading his M203 as he dives behind some boxes, Monkey dives over a wall towards one of the houses. Tyler opens with the PKM towards the group closest to him. The rounds rip through one man hurling him over the boxes. Another explosion happens behind the men, as Leflore drops back again to the boxes. Monkey has his shotgun out and is spraying the area blindly. The door to the house opens behind him as he rolls to his back. A solider shots wildly, but expected his target to be standing, aiming over Monkey’s head. The soldier’s eyes grow wide as he sees the muzzle of a shotgun pointblank in his face. Monkey squeezed the trigger, sending the mans brain to the other side of the building.
Tyler continues to fire round for round at the group until the sizzle noise grows more apparent from his weapon. The PKM begins to overheat, the current round jammed in the barrel. Tyler pushes the PKM out of the way, and pulls out his automatic handgun in a fluid motion. Osborne chirps over the radio,
“I see a flammable substance…..aiming for it”
Osborne’s shot pierced what was a small gas container by a TOW. The fuel mixed with the ammunition and the explosion threw the remaining men skyward. Tyler sees a man fly over him fully engulfed in flames before landing partially in the river. The smell of burning flesh grew more apparent with every step Tyler took towards him. The man was lying face down in the water, his back still ignited with fire.
Tyler stares down at his PDA, the UAV still scanning, showing no more red dots. Shaking with the excitement that just happened, Tyler plants his ass on the ground, staring towards the body that now slowly floated downstream. The sound of the jeep was coming from his left, Osborne and Doc pulled up by the dock. Leflore and Monkey were strolling over from their hideout. Doc sat down beside Tyler, pulled out a smoke and lite it. Without saying anything, doc hands a smoke over to Tyler already smoldering. He takes a deep breath in and exhales the toxic cloud.
Things were only going to harder from here.
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