Texas Nights - Book 13 of the Damned of the 2/19th

Expendable

USS Saratoga
Mediterranean Sea
[CLASSIFIED LOCATION]
28 May, 1992
1100 Hours ZULU - Thursday

"Two companies of Marine infantry and a contingent from SEAL Team Two will be coming with you," Lieutenant Colonel Krait told me as we walked down the hallway. "I'm sending a platoon of the Marines with you and Actual to provide security," a Navy guy yelled to make a hole as we passed by. Colonel Krait ignored it as we kept heading down the narrow hallway. "Head for the objective with Actual and half the Marines. Set up treatment first, the Marines are going to provide you with security. We'll have two Air Force Commando with you to handle air traffic control with the other half of the Marines for the rest of Task Force Hatchet 25 at the airfield."

"Stillwater said that the primary airport is trashed," I reminded him.

"That's why we're using the alternate airfield," He nodded. "That's why you and Actual are going to land or LALO out with your equipment with the two Commando and a squad of Leap Frogs. If the Commando deem the field serviceable they'll land, otherwise the Marines will get a real quick lesson in how to do a LALO drop."

"I don't like that," I told him honestly. "Last LALO drop I did wasn't a good one."

"Night drop under fire, wasn't it?" He asked me.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. We came under fire twice, first time Stillwater got yanked out of the plane with our OIC at the time. Second time we were dropping onto a convoy."

He shook his head. "If you come under fire," he started.

"Then we land anyway. The Marines, maybe no, but if we start taking fire, we'll be in the air less than thirty seconds," I said. "If there's enough fire to kill us all, they'll swat the C-130 out the air before we even drop."

He nodded. "That's why there will be two Tomcats coming with you. If you start taking fire they'll provide close air support."

I shook my head. "I hate it when I have to work with people I haven't trained with," I grumbled.

"You're just spoiled," Colonel Krait said, his dry tone making me do a double-take at him. He shot me a tight grin then continued, "These men are professionals. They aren't random people pulled from the nearest National Guard unit."

I laughed with him. "All right, all right, I've just got pre-op jitters," I told him. We stopped at a ladder for a moment and I rubbed my hands on my pantslegs. "I don't know these guys, I don't know how they react, I don't know who specializes and is skilled at what, so I can't reflexively coordinate things." I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

We climbed up the ladder, stepped off into the next hallway, and headed toward the briefing room. At one point we stood the side as a group of Navy guys hustled by.

"She's a grand old dame, ain't she, sir?" I asked, slapping the bulkhead, wall, whatever it was next to me.

"Seems a bit run-down," He said.

"Aw, don't be like that, Colonel," I smiled as the group kept hustling by. They were dressed in Navy work uniform. "Look at her life blood going by us. She's been protecting America since before I was born. Hell, maybe even before you were born."

"I was born in 57, joined the military in 75," He told me.

 More Navy guys ran by, dragging a hose, one man every ten to fifteen feet.

"She was laid down in '52, launched in '55, commissioned in '56," I told him, chuckling. "She protected you when you were still in your mother's womb," I said, putting my hand on the curved strut sticking from the wall. "Like I said, she's a grand old dame."