Taken during one of their first incursions into Angolan territory, the mining town of Lucapa has been held by DRC forces since the beginning of the African Civil War. Lacking the recourses to properly fight back, Angola's military had been unable to retake the town from the DRC.
13 Hours after DRC Assault
Monday, June 17th, 1991
John "Twitch" Mason
Joint Operation: O40S/USPDR
Task Force Raven/Task Force Talon
1:48AM
I needed to give Charlie a fuckin' raise. The ability of that woman to coordinate international deployment of close to a hundred men, four tanks and a gunship at the drop of the hat and have them here two hours earlier than she promised boggled my mind, even after eleven years with my company. What had ended up waking me was the fact that Sealegs had started buzzing the area. I had jumped off my sleeping pad, grabbed my Kalash off the bed and checked the window, only to see two dirt brown colored aircraft with my company's flag on the back flying low, dropping off the tanks first, followed by the swarm of infantry. I hit my radio.
"Hey Sealegs! Y'all weren't due for another four hours!"
"Well, they had coffee and donuts waiting." Sealegs answered, "Besides, anything for Frank."
"Happy to hear you say so sister! Where's Dropkick?"
Yes, damn near all of my pilots and air crews were women. No, I didn't do it on purpose, just kind of happened that way.
"They left about 20 minutes after I did. Shouldn't be far behind."
I began to get my equipment together, "Once you've dropped everything off, establish a holding pattern you're comfortable with, once we're done here, I'll need you ladies to land your planes at the Lucapa airport. We're all riding home with you."
"Copy that sir. We just got refueled so we've got plenty left, will advise when pattern established."
"Rog."
I grabbed my equipment and left the hotel room, heading out to the courtyard and through town to meet with my men at the landing site. Hudson had met them there and had marked the area with four flares, one on each corner. My paratroopers were policing their chutes and equipment while the tanker crews were preparing their Abrams for combat. Taro and the other dragons were there waiting, Taro was inspecting one of our tanks closely, seeming intrigued by it. This particular tank had "Sugar Weasel" with the symbol for the female gender in purple marker across the side skirt, along with a bunch of not safe for work stickers of women that adorned the turret. My tankers sure did have quite the sense of humor
"Helluva thing ain't it?" I asked.
"What?" Taro asked, "I mean besides the fact that you've got a bunch of kids as tankers?"
I chuckled, "Yeah...I probably need to address that."
"No I just uh...never got the chance to see these tanks this close up."
"Hell of a piece of engineering." I agreed, "This is actually one of the first ones we ordered, think we're going to be sending the crew to Iraq when we're done here."
"Where they were talking about sending us when we're done here." Taro nodded, "Think we'll be working together?"
"I certainly hope so. If they ask me what Draco squad I want, gonna be you guys for sure. Can't think of anyone else I'd rather fight with."
Taro smiled, "Happy to hear ya' say so John."
I shrugged, "My Dad always taught me to take care of my own Taro. If you need something knocked over, or just need someone to talk to, I'm there for ya, that doesn't just go for you, goes for everyone in Talon. Just ask Blitz, he knows how to get hold of me."
"Means a lot comin' from you brother." Taro smiled.
While my men were still gathering up their equipment and doing final checks, I took the time to change from the clothes I'd been wearing into tri color desert fatigues. One of my buddies had taken the liberty to bring me my M249 and plate carrier when he left and while I was changing, Blitz approached me.
"Hey John?"
"What's up Blitz?" I asked tightening down some straps on my war belt, throwing my 1911 into its holster.
"Can I talk to you seriously for a minute?" His voice had that tone of concern, it was a pitch that only he could make, indicative of when something was really bothering him.
"What have you got on your mind buddy?"
"Someone tried to call me on the radio. Me specifically. Now, I have no evidence of this, there was too much static in the message to make anything out, but it sounded like it might have been Frank."
"You sure?" he had my full, undivided attention at this point.
"Like I said, there was too much static. All I could really make out was my name, it sure as shit sounded like him. But, it's strange, because only my radio went off, no one else's did. Taro thought I was talking to myself."
"What radio are you running?" I asked setting my M249 down.
"Whatever shit Draco issued me, it's on my right side, down there by the mount for the Vulcan."
I inspected Blitz's radio. At first glance it looked like an RT-1523, but it had pretty clearly been modified for the abuse that the Draco dragons were likely going to put it through. It was in a thicker case, and unlike a regular 1523, this one had a second screen with an alpha numerical keypad that was code locked. Radio and coms shit wasn't really my strong suit, because the coms that we rocked in Op40 was some kind of modified shit that Wyatt had come up with that was built by a contractor for us. But I did know that Draco radios were code locked, always had been, you had to have the code to call a specific dragon unless you were a team lead. And while Taro hadn't shared those with us, Blitz had given Raven his under Taro's nose. So the only thing I could think of, if Blitz had gotten a direct phone call, then Frank was out and about somewhere, and knew Blitz was in the area when he started attacking the tanks. My guess would have been he just listened for the screaming. Shit carried for miles.
"When did you get this call?" I asked looking through his radio's log, only one, incoming. There wasn't a source code on the message, so it wasn't sent from a Raven radio.
"Uhhh...maybe an hour ago? Hour and a half?"
"Did you tell Taro?"
"No sir. I was waiting to talk to you first."
"Keep your radio on Blitz. If it goes off again, let me know, immediately."
"Yes sir."
I continued getting my gear ready. Once everything was good to go, I climbed up on the top of Sugar Weasel. Blitz, who hadn't moved from my side, turned back to face everyone else as I addressed my infantry.
"OP FORTY! RALLY UP!"
My men finished policing their equipment and joined me, gathering in a tight formation with Infantry in the back and the tanker crews up front.
"Gentlemen, for many of you, I need no introduction. For those of you who are deploying to a combat zone for the first time, please raise your hand."
About a dozen hands went up. Now, all eyes, including those from Project Draco and the Angolan Regional Military, were on me.
"Gentlemen, put your hands down, my name is Johnathan Alexander Mason. I am the owner of Operation 40 solutions and have extensive combat experience with organized forces and militia fighters in some of the most volatile areas of the world. What will follow tonight will be urban, house to house combat in an enemy controlled city. To those of you who have experience, you know what to do. To those of you who are new, keep your head down, your firearm pointed down range, remember your training and listen to the orders of your commanding officer. If you do these things, we'll all be done and out of here before sunrise, and you can all look forward to free coffee and a decent check for hazard pay. Sound good?"
A bunch of my guys grinned and yelled in agreement.
"Time to work gentlemen."
"Dropkick 2-2 on station." My radio chirped as the tanks began to fire up, "Called us back in from vacation John, better have a target rich environment."
"Happy to hear your voice Dropkick! Glad you ladies could make it."
"Oh, anything for Frank brother man."
"Happy to hear you say so. Sargent Taro Salanath will have your con for this operation, call sign Talon 1-1. Advise."
"Rodger that, copy that Sargent?"
"Yes mam." Taro said, "I'll be sure to put you to work."
"Op40, this is Field Marshal Mason, we are oscar mike to the objective!"
"Copy that sir, Glutton is oscar mike."
"Sugar Weasel here, we're on the move."
"Scarecrow is oscar mike."
"Challenger on the move. Oscar mike."
"Infantry units, fall in behind Glutton and Sugar Weasel. Scarecrow, Challenger, once we cross mission line, you'll break off to support local forces on their attack against the east and west side of the city respectively. How copy?"
"Scarecrow acknowledges all orders."
"Challenger acknowledges all orders."
"Dropkick 2-2 to Talon 1-1, holding pattern established, we are weapons ready on order. How copy?"
"Talon 1-1 copies all Dropkick, I'll be looking for work for ya. Be advised, I will be lasing, repeat, will be lasing."
"Dropkick copies all."
The convoy started to move forward.
"All OP 40 units are cleared for return fire only, do not engage unless you are fired upon, we can't have civilian casualties."
I got a round of orders acknowledged from squad leaders as Sugar Weasel began to slowly trudge forward, matching pace with Hendrick's older T62's. Blitz and Emelia walking along side our tank, keeping pace easily enough, chatting about seemingly random shit as they did. I meanwhile had turned on some music from my Walkman, at least I could have something to listen to until the shit started coming down around my head. As we neared the outskirts of the town, Dropkick came over the radio.
"Uh, Dropkick 2-2 to Talon 1-1, I'm seeing a piss load of DRC troops moving a bunch of fuck off artillery and mortars into position. Requesting permission to show them how dumb of an idea that is."
Taro looked at me from across the way. I nodded.
"Rodger that Dropkick, cleared for fire!"
"Op 40! Hold on to your ass! Safeties off!"
Dropkick's cannons sounded like God handing down judgment against his enemies. Streaks of bright white raced across the dark morning sky, smashing into the ground and detonating the munitions that they had targeted. The shock waves from the impacts rolled over the convoy, threatening to take the hats off a couple of my guy's heads. Some of the newbies started chanting' Dropkick's name as the ladies continued to pummel the ever loving fuck out of the enemy positions. Thirty seconds after Taro had given the go ahead, Dropkick ceased their assault.
"Good kills Talon 1-1, lots of little pieces down there. Enemy infantry is moving into position just inside of the borders, ya'll fixin' to have one fuckin' hell of a battle on your hands."
"That's what John pays us for Dropkick." One of the guys from Sugar Weasel said.
"That is true."
As we approached the town, the first shot rang out from DRC infantry, smashing against Sugar Weasels armor. The round was quickly followed by every DRC soldier opening up.
"FIGHT! FIGHT MY BROTHERS!" Hendricks yelled.
"OP40! You are weapons free!"
"TALON!" Taro shouted, "WEAPONS FREE!"
Soon the gunfire was going both ways, only intensifying as we moved closer to town. By the time we actually hit the city limits, I had to surrender my spot on the back of Sugar Weasel because the fire was getting too bad. Hudson initially refused to get off the back of the tank, but after taking a round right to the forehead that broke his aviators, he jumped off. Angrier about the fact his three hundred dollar sunglasses were ruined than he was about being shot in the fucking face.
"Fuckin' broke my damn aviators!" Hudson hissed returning fire at the direction he thought the bullet had come from, "Fuckin' bitch!"
"Aim getting better?" I asked firing a burst out of my M249 towards a building that had copious amounts of muzzle flash spilling out of a window.
Hudson nodded, "Took one to the face."
"Lucky you've got that immortality on your side."
"Yeah no shit."
I saw some of the hottest combat I'd ever seen as we moved in towards the city. Much of my attention was focused on the shops and alley ways where DRC soldiers were popping out of like roaches in an infested house. I crushed a good two boxes of 5.56 in the first eighteen to twenty minutes of the op, and was forced to draw my 1911 several times when I was caught in mid reload. My and Hendricks men were spreading out as we advanced, clearing the houses with barrages of full auto fire from their M4 Carbines As we fought through block after block towards the mines, we were getting pinched on the sides by DRC forces, which I should have expected. My soldiers were far better trained and equipped, but about after four blocks I started to hear casualty call outs over the radio, and we already had at least two deaths. I had really hoped we could get out of this scot free. Wasn't sure what I was thinking. Slowly but surely we fought our way towards the Lucapa diamond mine, and the closer we got, the more fierce the resistance grew. The guys crewing Sugar Weasel were definitely earning those bonus checks, as they were dispatching tank after tank, and had probably killed close to eleven technicals since we had arrived here. Taro was givin' Dropkick work to do when he could, but due to the fact Lcuapa was still filled with civilians, there wasn't much for them to do. The fighting opened up to ground warfare as we neared the airport, Sugar Weasel and Glutton were the only cover any of my infantry had to move forward, so I ordered them to park their tanks and my men to spread out into the houses along the edge of the airfield to take more covered shots at the DRC in the air ports buildings. Sugar Weasel and Glutton continued to engage any and all enemy vehicles, and there were plenty of them.
"Talon 1-1 to Dropkick 2-2, we need eyes on that control tower, Talon is taking heavy sniper rifle from a high caliber rifle, Tyson's injured, I need confirmation that tower is cleared from civilians."
"Rodger that Talon 1-1. Only heat sigs I see are the ones currently engaging you and yours. Am I cleared to fire on the tower?"
"Rodger that Dropkick, you are cleared for weapons."
Dropkick wasted no time in absolutely leveling the tower, bringing it crashing down on a decent sized chunk of enemy fighters. Sugar Weasel and Glutton began to move up.
"Dropkick 2-2 to Twitch, DRC forces are in full retreat. Looks like they're massively dug in near the external structures of the mines, I see dozens more tanks and machinegun nests and several artillery peices. I'd like to level all of it, how copy?"
"Copy your last Dropkick, clear 'em all out!"
Dropkick began a relentless assault on the mines, the ground shaking underneath my boots, the buildings on their foundations as we marched steadily towards the mines, where Frank and the other prisoners were supposedly being held.
"Hendricks! Any idea how big these mines are?" I inquired.
"The mines run deep, but are not extensive. The digging is not done by man, but by machine! Your plane could clear it out in minutes!"
"John?" Blitz asked over the radio, "You get the feeling they're just stalling for time? Why haven't they fucked us with the artillery in the mines!?"
"Dropkick 2-2, Twitch. Do you see anything out of the ordinary in the Lucapa mines!?"
"No sir, nothing out of the ordinary."
We continued to move in towards the mines. Our forces beginning to spread out and clear the building's one at a time. Blitz joined the rest of us in checking all the Quonset huts that could be used to contain prisoners for Frank, coming up empty handed time and time again. We must have cleared dozens of buildings in the mine and in the surrounding area, hours later, we still had nothing. I was getting more and more worried that maybe Frank had been killed by one of Dropkick's assaults, and we maybe we should be looking through the rubble for his body. As we moved closer and closer to the mines, Blitz and I stacked up against a house, the windows were all boarded up, but through some cracks in the boards, light was seeping out, although I couldn't hear anyone inside.
"Blitz." I took a flashbang from my vest, "See this door right here?"
"Yes sir?"
"I don't want to see it anymore."
Blitz smiled and backed up from the house. I did as well, cradling my M249 in my off hand with the flashbang primed in my right as Hudson and Wyatt joined me, Isaac and Emelia joined Blitz. With one finger off the banger to give Blitz the go ahead, he fired a loosely packed plasma bolt into the door, which disappeared in a cloud of splinters and blue fire. I threw the flashbang over hand into the house, waited for it to pop off and ran inside the building, followed by Hudson and Wyatt. Once inside what did we find? Just another empty house.
"RAGGGHHH! FRANK WHERE ARE YOU!?" I shouted into the void, storming out of the building with my friends close behind. I was beginning to think I may have been lied to. I hit my radio.
"Dropkick 2-2." I sighed, "Uh, this is Twitch. Searches of all buildings on site have not yielded Captain Logan. I say again, Frank is still missing. Do you see anything in the surrounding area?"
"Affirmative Twitch, one more warehouse in the area. A large one up on the hill directly north of your position. I've got a pretty big heat sig on FLIR, it ain't moving so I imagine that they're dug in enemy forces."
"Rodger that Dropkick, we'll go pay 'em a vist."
Talon followed us up the mountain, we surrounded that warehouse in earnest. I didn't fail to notice that the building was completely sealed, and no light was coming from the inside. There was a faint aroma coming from the building, a sickly sweet smell.
"Uggh!" Blitz gagged, dry heaving a bit, "ugh! Ya'll fuckin' smell that!?"
Faline gagged, "Smells like roadkill skunk served with shit on a Floridian slab of sunbaked concrete."
The smell was more noticeable the closer we got to building. I knew there had to be bodies piled up inside, the smell was unmistakable. I initially tried the door, finding it was locked. I sighed, almost tasting the death just behind the thin, corrugated sheet metal as I reached into my plate carrier for a breaching charge. Blitz spoke up.
"John..." His voice hinted he was on the edge of crying. I wasn't sure what he was feeling more, the fear of what was behind that thin door, or sheer terror that we'd find Frank's corpse among the carnage.
"It'll be okay Blitzy." Hudson assured sincerely, "If Frank is behind that door, he's alive."
My heart weighed a million tons, arms felt like they were tied down with cinder blocks as I put the charge on that door. I stepped back and hit my radio.
"Frank! Brother man if you can hear us, we're coming in! Get away from the walls!"
I popped the charge on the door. As soon as that charge went, the door flung open. Everyone from Raven and Talon doubled over and vomited, almost reflexively, at the absolute putrid, hellish reek of death that came flooding from that dark warehouse. I'd been in the military since I was seventeen, and here I was, fifty four fuckin' years old with almost forty years of combat experience in some of the most foul smelling third world shit hole countries on the planet. I had never before smelled something so mindfuckingly terrifying as what came out of that godforsaken slice of hell on earth building.
Once we had recovered, I stood up, walking towards the door with shaking legs, in the pale moon light, I could see a black and green arm crawling with maggots laying in the door frame, the concrete around it was stained red, writhing with even more maggots. That wasn't a good sign. I had to fight not to throw up straight stomach bile as I peered into the door way. It was pitch fucking black, the man who owned the arm was staring at me with no eyes left in their sockets, the look on what was left of his rotten, maggot infested face made my blood run ice cold. At least three more bodies were right by the door way. It took every bit of will power and courage left in my old, war hardened heart to move my thumb up and click on my weapon light.
The only space in the warehouse that wasn't occupied by a rotting human was the small pathway that seemed to run from this door, out the back where Taro had kicked the other one open. The floor was covered in fucking blood and puss and maggots and Jesus have mercy on my soul whatever the fuck else might leak out of a rotting human. The smell was so fucking unbelievable I had to retreat, get fresh air, stop the urge to puke, put my gas mask on and then go back in. Shining my weapon light around the warehouse, thousands of corpses, piled from roof to ceiling, in a three story warehouse. I could hear the fucking maggots writhing around in the pile, there must have been tens of millions of them. The roof was caked in some kind of red gel that I could only assume was blood. I didn't want to know how it got there. I splashed in blood and body fluids as I traversed the pathway through the only piece of land on Earth that the holy trinity had allowed Lucifer to conquer, squashing thousands of maggots that made a disturbing squelching sound as I walked, the urge to puke inside my gasmask was strong. I could only imagine that the heat that Dropkick was seeing on thermal was the heat generated by all of the flies and maggots feasting on the rot on the inside of the pile. I shined my weapon light around, hoping and praying, for what? At this point I wasn't sure. It was like something out of Dante's Inferno, although, I don't honestly know which I'd rather have.
My soul fell out of my body when, at the edge of my weapon light, I spied OP-40 issued boots. I could not control my shallow breathing as I asked God for the courage to continue to pan that weapon light, revealing three color desert pants soaked with blood and discolored body fluids.
"Frank?" My voice was muffled through my mask.
I started to move as I noticed the man was wearing a white, blood stained, heavy cotton shirt. Again, very popular with my company. Standard issue, in fact.
"FRANK!?" I said, my heart beating faster and faster as my soul still refused to return to my body.
Sure enough, when that weapon light hit that mans face, I darted to him, shaking him to see if he was still alive. He reached up and grabbed my plate carrier, the ambient light off my SAW's weapon light showed me a pair of bloodshot steel grey eyes.
"FRANK!" I yelped, "Frank! It's me! It's me John brother!"
".hon." He moaned, unable to speak it seemed. He looked like the DRC had given him eight different kinds of hell, and was missing an arm below the elbow that was crudely stitched closed and looked infected. Wounds similar to what I had seen depicted in some of the more graphic illustrations in the passion of the Christ were laced all through his body, seemed like he'd been beaten with a cat of nine tails rather extensively. Maggots were spilling out of his wounds along with something the consistency of cottage cheese, which by the way, I'd never eat again. He squeaked in agony when I lifted him off the pile of death that he'd been resting on and threw him over my shoulder. I carried him out of the warehouse, Blitz ran up to me as soon as I exited.
"Frank!" he squealed, in what seemed like a cross between a wave of terror and sheer delight. He lay down next to me as Hudson helped me lay Frank on Blitz's back. We used some retention straps to secure him as he coughed, and managed to get some words out.
"Stupid fuckers...thought I'd break."
"You fuckin bastard!" Blitz said sniffling, tears running down his face, 'Don't you ever scare us like that again!"
"Easy there Blitzy." Hudson scolded, a little tear coming down his face, "Let's wait till he's out the woods before we verbally beat him. Aight?"
"Yes sir." Blitz said
I pulled my gas mask off and hit my radio was we started walking down the hill, "This is John Mason to all operation 40 units, mission accomplished, we got 'em."
I could hear many cheers of joy as Hendricks and several of his men met us with smiles on their faces. The joy deadened by what I had seen in the warehouse.
"My American friends! Your mission is accomplished yes!?"
I nodded, offering my hand, "Yes sir it is. See to it that the DRC is punished for their crimes against your people."
"You found many of our deceased brothers in the warehouse?" Hendricks asked, "Do not worry Mason. We have not yet begun to fight."
He turned to his men, "We have taken back Lucapa! Just as we will take back all our villages! The DRC will regret the day they set foot on our land!"
Hendrick's men started cheering, waving their rifles in the air. I hit my radio.
"Sealegs, go ahead and bring your plane around, it's time for us to go home."
"Rodger that Twitch, comin' in for a landing, I'll be down in six."
I jumped on the back of Sugar Weasel as we returned to the airport. My C5 Galaxies touched down in a cloud of dry dirt and sand, taxiing across the runway and circling around to have enough room to take off again once they were loaded down. Sugar Weasel decided that they would cover the retreat, surrendering their spot on Sealegs to Glutton, and in turn they would ride home with us on the C130 that we'd flown in on with Talon. While my guys loaded their tanks and finished policing their drop gear, we opted to go ahead and send Frank home on Sealegs, since he needed pretty urgent medical attention. Thankfully, some of our docs had stowed away on the flight in, so he had someone to look after him. As they loaded him onto the stretcher and got him situated on the plane, Blitz called out.
"We'll see you soon Frank!"
Frank gave Blitz a thumbs up with a bandaged hand as he was loaded onto the plane. Chutes were policed, tanks were loaded and men were crammed into the back of the plane. Once the final head count was done, and everyone was accounted for, Sealegs closed the rear hatch. The engines started to spin up.
"Raven 1-1 this is Sealegs, we are Oscar mike. Thanks for the work John."
"Safe travels Sealegs! Thanks for coming on short notice!"
We cleared off the runway as the air traffic controller, who had somehow survived the assault, gave Sealegs the okay to take off. Once she was safely airborne, Taro hit his radio.
"Talon 1-1 to base."
Taro paused, I could hear chatter on his head set.
"Requesting a C130 to my location, Lucapa international airport, mission accomplished."
Another pause.
"Rodger that base. Talon 1-1 out."
Taro turned to me, flashing three clawed fingers, "Three hours, got some time to kill."
I jumped up on Sugar Weasel, setting my SAW aside and opening the front of my plate carrier. As morning drew near, the heat was beginning to set in.
"I think I'mma take my vacation when I get done here."
"No shit." Hudson agreed, "Where should we go this year?"
"I promised Taylor we'd take our 35th in Hawaii." I said, "That'll be where I'm going. First class on the best airliner I can possibly find."
"I'm fuckin' goin' snowboarding in Canada." Hudson said, "Can't wait for winter, sick of the dust and the heat."
"How many days you got saved?" Wyatt asked sitting cross legged on the dirt.
"I own this shit, I'll take as many days as I want."
"Vacation sure does sound nice." Blitz said laying down at my feet, "Where'd you go on vacation Tyse?"
Tyson sat back on his hind legs, "I don't fuckin' know. Some remote island in the ocean where I wouldn't be bothered. Think about what I did wrong in a past life to get stuck in the US Army."
"Why are you so negative all the fuckin' time?" Faline asked.
Tyson shrugged, "I dunno. Does it bother you?"
"Kinda."
"Then I'mma keep doing it. Where would you go Blitz?"
"Mmmmm....I'd like to go see a live volcano somewhere. I think I'd be cool to get some fresh obsidian."
"What would you do with a ball of black glass? Taro asked.
Blitz shrugged, "I dunno, put it up on my wall and go boy that sure is neat."
"Where would you go on leave Taro?" I asked.
"I'm just a lakeside cabin kinda guy." He shrugged, "I just wanna go spend a week or so at a quiet lake. Do some fishing, hunting, maybe start a horde of gold in the mountains somewhere."
"Kidnap a princess." Tyson added with a shit eating grin on his face.
Taro looked at Faline with a toothy smile, "I know who the fuck I'd kidnap, just saying."
Faline had to hold her snout closed to stop the laugh.
"If that ain't flirting." Issac joked.
I nodded, "Yeah. So, here's what's up. If ya'll can get together and agree on a place, I can call in a favor a buddy of mine owes me, I'll take ya'll on vacation sometime."
Blitz looked up at me, "You'd do that for us?"
"Hell yeah I would. You guys have...."
"Dropkick 2-2 to Twitch."
My conversation was interrupted.
"Twitch, go 'head Dropkick. Why you ladies still in the area?"
"I don't know if I'm paranoid, but I'm seeing some kind of creep in the area surrounding the town. I don't see anything on thermals, but what I'm seeing definitely isn't natural."
"Sure it's not just the local wildlife out looking for snacks? Lots of bodies around."
"I'm fairly certain sir, I can..."
As if they materialized from thin air, what had to be easily a hundred rockets were launched from the shrubs. Streaking through the hazy morning air and leaving a sparkling trail of death as they pointed right at my circling gunship. We all scattered to get back into our gear as Sugar Weasel's driver turned her over.
"Missile lock! Missile lock! Flares away!"
Dropkick must have fired every flare in her plane. A good chunk of the misses frenzied, and for all those ladies were worth, they attempted to return fire with their 105 and LTM. It wasn't enough. At least fifteen of those missiles impacted, and I watched with terror in my heart as my aircraft began to drop out of the sky like a brick. At first, I didn't think any of the girls had survived, but then Shelby came over my radio.
"This is Dropkick 2-2!" She screamed with terror in her voice, "We're going down!"