One of the most well-known, trained and equipped private military contractors on the planet, Operation 40 Solutions is headed by ex-Marine Jonathan Alexander Mason. Known for their unquestionable, unwavering discipline and skill in combat, the company has been seated in US Military operations since their founding in 1980.
Sunday, June 16th, 1991
John "Twitch" Mason
Joint Operation: O40S/USPDR
Task Force Raven/Task Force Talon
Calonda-Angola
11:53Am
Growing up, my Daddy always taught me that the scariest words in the English language were, "I'm from the government and I'm here to help." Well, after 20 years with the US Marines, service during the tail end of Vietnam and a couple of other hotbeds around the world, the dark shit I did during the Cold War and now seeing the shit that was going on here in Angola, I've learned that my old man was most certainly onto something. That being said, I won't deny that there are a few exceptions to that rule, as there are for all. The exception to the rule in question was a thirty five year old African soldier by the name of Rylond Hendricks. Up until a few weeks ago, he had just been another stiff with a gun in the sea of armed men that were currently fighting over the sovereignty of Angola. Then, the man who was commanding the regional forces had been killed in a surprise attack, and it was there that Hendricks, who now held the rank of General, had shown his colors. He had organized regional forces and local militia in a manner that I'd expect out of seasoned, well-educated western officers who had been in the military for longer than I had, and I was an old man in a profession where men die young. It certainly was a case study to watch a man with no leadership training who couldn't read and barely write build something that, in my opinion, could rival and professional force out there. Of course, a shipment here and there of AKMNs, some old Tokarevs, ammo and web gear, sourced by a few favors owed to yours truly by some good people in the KGB had turned these men into a real military. Many of them were quick learners, and took the weapons instruction offered by myself and my allies eagerly. Now, with opposing forces once again closing in on Calonda, they would be in for the shock of their lives.
Early one morning, my best friend Hudson and I were at our post in the bell tower of the only Catholic Church in town, along with about a dozen other militia members whom were manning a very well dug in artillery battery which consisted of two O40S supplied 105mm howitzers. They had picked the operation of the guns up quick, and in the past few days, had killed eight soviet tanks that had attempted to lead a charge into town. Hudson and I were merely spotting targets for them, taking pot shots at enemy fighters with our AK's when the opportunity presented itself. The DRC had been posted up in neighboring Lucapa and for the last four weeks had been harassing us with artillery strikes that were inching ever closer to the town lines. Our guys were returning fire when they could, based on what Taro's team was telling us over the radio, however we knew that they had anti-aircraft guns in place, since Blitz had almost been shot down about a week after we got here, so the intel was spotty, at best. Taro didn't want any of his guys getting close enough to call in accurate strikes, since they'd be too big a target. Couldn't say I blamed him. I wiped the sweat off my face with my Shemagh, digging into my chest rig for my camo paint, which I reapplied.
"I'd give anything for a fucking air conditioner that worked. Fuck, even a box fan'd be nice."
Hudson, a longtime friend and my second in command nodded, not looking away from the scope of his Remington 700, "Yep, I'll take the jungle over this goddamned dust and bugs any day of the week."
"Got anything on the old scope?" I asked putting the camo away, picking my binoculars back up.
"I ain't got nothing dude. Place is dead."
I continued panning around with the binoculars, seeing something move ever so slightly about 500 yards out.
"There. Five hundred yards out, I saw something move, low in the grass left of the tree bearing from me," I pulled my compass out and gave it a glance, "bearing 230."
"Got it, he's way out there." Hudson said shifting his point of aim, "Yeah, fuckin grass don't move like that."
"Green One this is Red One, we have possible sniper activity about five hundred yards from our position. Can you get eyes on?"
"Rog your last Red One, gimme a minute to shift positions."
I saw the grass move again, and then some bricks shattered above us. The gunshot followed afterwards, I ducked down, Hudson didn't even flinch, just that cold stare from underneath those aviator sunglasses. He returned a slug in earnest, working the action without looking up from the optic. I ended up having to slap the brass out of the collar of my shirt. Man fuckin' scared me sometimes.
"I know some fucking grassy plant bitch didn't just shoot at my bestie!" Blitz snapped over the radio.
"Green Four, Green Three, could you shut the fuck up?" Tyson called, "People are trying to do work."
"Seriously."
"Green One, was that your shot Red Two?"
"Affirmative, can you confirm kill Green one?"
"I can smell the blood from here." Taro whispered, "You for sure hit a mother fucker. I don't hear any moans so I'mma assume he's probably dead. Can't verify, got two more right on top of me."
"Green one, can you get us your bearing from the church tower? We need eyes on."
There was a pause, "Bearing one ten."
"Looking the wrong fucking way!" Hudson hissed as he picked up the sniper rifle, kicking a bunch of shit out of his way and posted back up. I got on the binoculars instantly.
"See if you can get eyes on Taro."
"Rog, standby."
I panned around for a moment, locating Taro laying as close to the ground as his body would allow about five hundred yards out, only because I could see a hint of crimson red poking out from underneath his ghille suit, and I could also pick out the line of his crudely concealed 20x152mm auto cannon. Taro didn't rock a can on the end of his gun, so if he started touching off rounds, enemy artillery was likely to send a shell or two his way.
"Green one, Red one has eyes on, can you give us rough locations of enemy snipers?"
Another round came our way. I ducked down in an effort not to get my head taken off by the enemy sniper and Hudson, again, returned in earnest.
"Got 'em!" Taro said over the radio, "one more."
While looking out across the large field that the church's bell tower over looked, someone tapped on the hatch leading to the ladder that accessed the tower.
"Who goes there?" Hudson demanded, looking away from the 700.
The hatch creaked open, one of the militia members stuck his head through the hatch.
"Excuse me, Mr John." He said in a thick accent.
"'Sup brother man?" I inquired.
"Hendricks wants to speak with you." He continued, "Urgent he says."
I nodded, "I'll be right there."
The militia member closed the hatch and went back down the ladder. I grabbed my AKM from the pile of shit Hudson and I had accumulated in the corner and turned to the hatch.
"Got things up here?"
"Yeah." Hudson said, "I can handle a couple of poorly trained snipers."
I nodded in agreement, "I'll be back in a bit."
I popped the hatch and slid down the ladder. The church had been a building that Hendricks had built most of his front line operations around, having retrofitted it into a command center. It was stocked full of weapons and ammunition, not to mention being the most well protected building in Calonda. Hendricks, the man in question, was a six foot four monster of a man, Hudson's size, who carried himself with an air of authority that commanded respect from everyone around. His skin was the tone of pitch and his eyes were full of a well of experience from which any soldier or mercenary could learn a lot, if only they could look past his thick accent and somewhat broken English. He taught me to never judge a book by its cover, if my thirty years of military experience hadn't done that already. His men were rushing about, grabbing ammo, grenades and water among other equipment. I could hear a bunch of diesel trucks moving around outside, so I wondered if perhaps they were preparing to assault an enemy position.
He looked up from the maps one of his men was explaining to him in whatever their native language was as I approached. He smiled when he saw me.
"Mason!" he boomed with a big smile on his face, "You have arrived!"
"One of your men said you were looking for me?" I inquired.
"I was, I hear gunfire from the tower, are you and Hudson engaging enemy forces?"
"Three snipers started sending rounds at us."
"Is that so?" Hendricks asked.
I nodded, "might be getting ready to try something. What have you got for me?"
"I have received a field report from my men, they believe they have located your missing brother."
That sentence earned him my full, undivided attention. "I'm listening."
"My men tell me the DRC is moving a large number of troops and supplies to their lines." Hendricks said tracing a line that had been drawn on the map running from the nearby town of Lucapa. It was a larger town and a hot bed for DRC troop movements since they had taken it a few months before we got here. We were the buffer between DRC controlled territory and Angolan territory, so they had been making jabs at us trying to see if they could flush us out of our defenses, so far, hadn't worked. Hendricks tapped three red circles with his finger, "they are readying for attack. My men on the inside tell me that they will be using this attack to try to lure out the Sky Demon and the other terror lizards. I also hear that they have prisoners and that a white man is among them."
"Going to take more men than we have to take that town."
"We have planned this assault for weeks. Hundreds more are coming. They'll have tanks, armor, helicopters."
"What kind of time frame are we looking at?" I asked.
"For my men to arrive, twelve hours. We can make short work of the amassing attack with whom we have here, and once my men arrive, we will finish planning our assault."
"Cool, my dragons have been itching for action, when do we go?" I asked. Hearing another gunshot from the tower, Taro game over the radio.
"Got 'em! Fuck that guy!"
Hendricks flashed an open gloved palm, "Five minute."
"Finally some good news." I hit my radio, "Red team Green team, this is Red 1, Hendricks found Frank, get your shit and get down here, we're oscar mike in five."
"Red one green one." Taro said on the other side of the radio, "Green team is oscar mike in four."
"Coming to ya Red one." Issac answered.
I took the liberty to grab a couple more magazines for my AKM and a few frags out of Hendrick's ammo cache and joined the convoy outside. The convoy was led by an old, dusty soviet T62 that the locals had welded a bunch of extra armor to, at the expense of course of the pathetically under powered soviet diesel. Hudson and I had done what we could to try and help it along with a turbo we'd taken from a crashed hind. But you know, without a real shop and quality tools, the job was questionable at best. The tank ran, and as long as it continued to do so, so be it. Two other T62's were bringing up the rear, and our heavy hitter, an M1A1 Abrams that was crewed by the best tankers I had on payroll was sandwiched in the middle of the convoy. The rest of the vehicles consisted of two deuces that Hendricks had packed full of troops, a single BTR-80 and a couple of buffle trucks. We also had Taro, Blitz, Tyson, Emelia and Faline running air support, I wasn't terribly worried about fire superiority. The only thing I was truly worried about as I climbed onto the back of one of Hendrick's buffles was a stray bullet hitting Frank. Soon after I had climbed on the back of the truck, I felt the suspension sag as if the springs had sudden committed self-die. I turned, finding Blitz had landed on the back of the truck.
Blitz was one of Taro's guys. Motherfucker stank of shit and sweat and was covered in dirt, camo make up, dried blood and general caked on filth. Kinda had to cut the kid some slack though, we were all in rather rough shape. Unlike me and mine, Blitz wasn't a human, at least not any more. Blitz was one of these new Draco guys, started off life as a human, but a shot of some wicked chemicals in the throat had turned him into something out of a fantasy novel. Way I heard the story, the Army had popped him with a draft when he was ten back in eighty six, he just had his fifteenth a couple of days ago. We hadn't had much to celebrate with, but Hendricks had insisted on having a huge feast with a couple of buffalo some of his men had hunted, since he was "of age." The clown was fuckin' candy apple red with a bunch of bright orange streaking through his hide and wings that made him stand out like a goddamn high vis vest in the high beams of my truck, but he was aight. He deployed with O40S all the damn time, and in the five years that I had served with them, I'd never seen Blitz carry a weapon. Guessed he didn't need one, lightning quick fast mover he was, thus his name, and the plasma he could upchuck could make a battlefield go quiet in an instant. Taro said that he'd given up trying to get him to carry his minigun years ago. He'd spent the last four weeks here terrorizing anything with four wheels and armor with these fuckin' wicked dive bomb plasma attacks, to the point that the locals had taken to calling him the "Demônio do céu". According to Hendricks, it translated to "Sky Demon." Boy was he fucking' proud of that.
"Yo Twitch." he greeted, struggling to balance his thousand pound ass on the back of the truck.
"That shit ain't made to hold your fat ass Blitz. The fuck you want?"
Blitz ripped a pull cord off his vest, ripping away a pouch that spilled out two bandoleers that held a shit ton of 40mm flares for my M79 onto the floor of the buffle.
"I come bearin' gifts ya' fuckin' ingrate. Got 'em from that Russian dude when he dropped off the AKs, shoot 'em at shit you want me to explodify, use the blue one on what you don't want explodified."
I scooped up the bandoleers and threw them over my gear as the rest of my team joined me. Hudson was the first to try and climb in.
"Truck ain't' made for dragons Blitzy." Hudson laughed, "Gonna fuckin' launch us into space if you don't murder the shocks first."
"Hey, then we can have fire support from orbit! They won't know what hit 'em!" Blitz countered.
"Gotta wonder how this traffic cone looking mother fucker survived Draco Basic, never mind being under Taro's command." Hudson retorted as Issac and Wyatt joined us in the bed of the truck.
Blitz shrugged, "You can do anything with a positive attitude and enough strafing runs. Including getting the locals to refer to you as a sky demon."
"Look at the ego on this fucking boy!" Wyatt laughed, "Acting like you're fuckin' world famous and shit."
Blitz smiled, "I mean, everyone else has cool call signs. Just took me a while to earn mine."
"Won't hear it out of us Blitzy." Hudson assured, "None of us speak Portuguese."
"BLITZ!" Taro shouted over the radio, "Where the fuck are you?"
Blitz hit his radio, "I was givin' somethin' to John! Chill boss!"
"Fall in Blitz!" Taro ordered, "We're oscar mike!"
Blitz flared his wings, "Gotta run guys, gimme some targets!"
He launched himself off the back of the truck, the suspension aggressively decompressed, causing the rear wheels to clear the ground and the entire truck to bounce a few times.
"Know? Sometimes I forget just how heavy those boys roll." Issac noted, "What the fuck does Blitz weigh? What like a thousand pounds?"
"Fifteen hundred I think he said." I remarked, "Crazy thing is that he's the skinny one of the bunch."
"Attention my brothers!" Hendricks yelled from the front of the convoy, all eyes were now on him, "The enemies of our people are attempting to drive us from our home once again! Let us show them what happens when an enemy sets foot on our land!"
Hendrick's men cheered as the convoy began moving. Taro came over the radio.
"Red one Green one, we've established a holding pattern around the convoy in formation. Blitz is go for any groundwork with the rest of us in support as necessary, standing by for targets."
"Red one acknowledges Green One, stand by for targets."
Mortar fire started against our convoy minutes after we had left town, a couple of them struck the cage that had been welded to the front T62 and, from the looks of it, the cage kept the Mortars from scoring a lethal blow, if only barely. The tankers yelled something over the radio and pulled the smoking tank off to the side, leaving the O40S Abrams to lead the convoy.
"Red one to Green One, I need eyes on those mortars and I need them quiet! Just lost our turbo T62!"
"I bet those guys are pissed." Faline said, "That's a nice tank."
"Nah fam, they scared shitless." Blitz quipped, "Red one Green four, I'm breaking formation, stand by for strafing run."
I switched to my second radio to talk to Hendricks, when I happened to glance up and saw a black speck that was flying directly at us. Sure seemed like that pill had our names on it.
"INCOMING INCOMING!" I shouted, hopping over the side of the buffle and making haste for a nearby rock. Before I could get properly in cover, the mortar hit the truck, the shockwave picked me up and threw me up and over the rock. It took me a minute to collect myself, and looking up over the rock with my AKM aimed down range, I could see Wyatt and Issac had also been thrown from the truck, though they looked okay. Hudson, of course, wasn't phased, and was currently beating on the armored windshield with the truck's tire hammer, trying to rescue the driver from the looks of it. I collected myself as quickly as I could and went to go help Hudson, but it seemed by the time I got there, it was already too late.
"Fuck!" Hudson hung his head, "what a fuckin' way to go."
"Sometimes it's too late to save a man." Hendricks said joining us, "Let us move my brothers, before we join him in death."
I took my AK off safe and popped a round in the can, Taro and the rest of Talon buzzed us over head, promptly getting on the radio as they passed the large rock formation that the mortar fire was coming from behind.
"Red one green one, there's a whole fucking damn shitload of DRC soldiers amassing about a klick north, technicals and at least a half dozen T62 tanks in support. We're already taking fire from the ground, pulling back. Blitz is taking orders from you now, he's the only one whose gonna be able to get close."
"Rodger that Green one! Green four Red one! What's your status!?"
"Green four is holding a thousand feet up, use those flares to mark targets for me."
'Stand by green four." I instructed as I jumped on a different truck. Our own tank lead the convoy over the hill, coming to a stop as the mortar fire, which had been coming down like explosive rain, ceased. The other two tanks on our side spread out, getting decent distance so any anti-tank weapons couldn't focus their fire easily enough.
"Why have the mortars stopped?" Hendricks asked.
As if to answer his question, a horde of DRC soldiers came rushing through the smoke. I jumped off the truck as the gunfire broke out all at once. Hendricks yelled something in Portuguese to his soldiers that I didn't pay attention to and I loaded one of those flares into my M79, launching it towards the enemy fighters as they crashed like a human wave into the wall of lead produced by friendly Kalashnikovs. The flare landed some feet from a sizable group of men, who seemed to not pay it any mind.
"Green Four is visual on targets." Blitz said, "time to weapons in 10 seconds, heads down."
An unholy shriek ripped across the battlefield, audible even over the clatter of machine gun and mortar fire, catching everyone's attention. The hairs on the back of my neck still stood up and my skin tightened with goosebumps, even as many times as I had heard it. Blitz was many things, and feared by his enemy was one of them. A glance in the direction of the scream, wings tucked tightly against his sides and body straight as an arrow, Blitz was little more than a red and orange blur against the dust hazed sky. He must have been coming in at a good three to four hundred miles an hour, easily.
"SKY DEMON!" one of Hendricks's men shouted with a tone of fear in his voice.
"EVERYONE DOWN!"
Blitz fired off a plasma bolt that fucking nuked the guys that had been standing by the flare. The sound of the bolt breaking the sound barrier sent a shockwave ripping across the battlefield that damn near took my hat off my head. I did see several limbs go flying and several men disappear in a haze of blue plasma.
"Red One, target area suppressed."
"Hell of a shot Blitz!" I dumped the flare casing out of my launcher and threw another down the barrel, "way to give it to 'em!"
Blitz circled around as those of us who were dismounted pushed up behind our tank, which was taking occasional shots at enemy vehicles. I was fucking crushing 40mm HEDP and magazines of 7.62x39 like I never had before, and had the bolt stop in the front of the gun, the trigger falling on a dead chamber. The only thing I hated about the AKM came to mind as I fished out a fresh magazine from my kit.
"Fuckin' no bolt lock on this sum'bitch!" I hissed as I rocked the fresh mag in, reaching under the gun to slingshot the bolt back. Something whizzed past my head, making me duck back behind the Abrams. Bullets were pinging off the front of our tank as I prepared to launch another flare. A concussion unlike anything I had ever felt ripped through my skull, and at first I thought maybe I had finally run out of excuses and taken a bullet through the brain, but the fact that I didn't instantly lose control of my body told me that I had, in fact, not taken forever sleep pill. It took me a second to realize that our tank crew had taken a direct hit from an enemy T62. Our Abrams wasn't disabled, but the reverse lights and back up alarm was blaring. I shook my head, collecting myself and backing up to avoid being crushed by allied armor. I hit my radio.
"Red one, Yellow one. We just took a direct hit from an enemy tank."
"Damage?" I asked.
"None apparent sir, all systems functional, standing by for orders."
"Yellow one! Clear to engage enemy tanks! Green four, eyes on enemy armor, marking now!"
"Can't swing around at this time Red One! Taking fire from a couple of technicals on the ground, got a few holes in my wings! If I take many more hits I'll lose air lift capability!"
"Don't put yourself out there Green Four." My tanker said, "Pull back if their aim's getting' too good."
"Hudson, you have eyes on enemy technicals targeting Blitz!?"
"Eyes positive, can't get a shot! Incoming fire too hot!"
I hit my radio, "Yellow One, Red one, I've got eyes on enemy technicals, targeting Sargent Blitz. He can't make air passes due to heavy enemy fire, need you to take the heat off!"
"Rodger that Red one." The commander of the Abrams said, a British lad by the name of Carl said, "I see 'em. Get clear sir."
My Abrams touched off a round from the 105. Yep, she was an old bastard, but well taken care of and still had some fight in her, especially against the soviet shit down range. I heard the round impact and something go up in smoke. Our tank shifted its point of aim and hesitated for a moment, touching off another round.
"Red one, Glutton is moving forward." Carl advised. The tank started to move forward, our T62's on our flank.
"Rodger that Yellow One, allied infantry on your six."
Carl touched off a third round, "last of the technicals. Green four, you're cleared for air."
"Rodger that, show me what needs nuking."
I let my Kalashnikov hang off its sling, grabbing my M79 off my back, switching sides of the tank with Hudson. I fired the flare which struck an enemy T-62 that was currently targeting our Abrams.
"Everyone back! Enemy armor targeting Glutton!"
The men who were with me behind the tank retreated, just in time for the T-62 to launch a slug of high explosives at our tank. One hell of a shockwave washed over us, making the bulk of the men with us prone out. The Abrams rocked from side to side on its suspension for a moment.
"Red one, we just took another direct hit."
"Damage!?"
"Check engine light's on, they fucked up something."
"Can you still move and shoot?"
"Affirmative. Combat critical systems remain undamaged."
"Green four Red one! Target marked!"
"Rodger that, coming' in."
Blitz ripped that ungodly scream as he raced across the sky, catching the attention of every soldier on the field when he swooped in like a falcon taking prey. He launched that bolt of plasma clean through the side of the T62, fire spewing from the hole in the side of the tank like it was an open door on some industrial blast furnace. Smoke poured out of the barrel of the tank as the systems all shut off, the main gun falling limply to wayside. I broke open my M79, stuffing another flare into the chamber and clicking the launcher closed.
"Red one, Green four, target area suppressed, looks like the DRC's starting to pull back, there's heavy armor still out there! Next target!"
"Green four, yellow one, pick you one out that you like, I'll get the remaining one."
"Really?" Blitz asked sarcastically, like you had just told him he could take his pick of what he wanted in a toy store, "I'm gettin' the green one!"
Blitz came back down out of the clouds, launching a tightly packed plasma bolt that went clean through the tank he'd targeted. Glutton touched off another shot, smashing the remaining enemy tank to pieces.
"Green Four to Red one, enemy forces are pulling back!"
"Our journey to freedom has begun!" Hendricks shouted over the radio, "Death to the DRCA!"
Almost all of our remaining friendly infantry let out a war cry similar to the one of the attacking and began charging the retreating soldiers, firing on full auto into their backs as they attempted to flee.
"All O40S operators, stand down, I repeat, stand down."
"Rog, holding fire." Hudson acknowledged.
Our Abrams rolled to a stop, "Glutton copies, standing down."
"Rog, holding fire." Isaac acknowledged.
"Rog, weapons cold." Wyatt replied.
"Red one to green one, re-group on Glutton's position."
"Rodger that, we're coming down."
Taro and his team came down from the sky, joining us in holding our position with Glutton while Hendricks' men cleaned up, and by that I mean they were going around executing the wounded. That was pretty strictly against our company code, in addition to violating some rather strong morals of mine. Had to remind myself that not everyone fought their battles the same way we did.
Blitz leaned in, "'Ey, John, can you do me a favor? Pretty please?"
"What would that be Blitz?"
Blitz started talking like he was some kind of coked up drug addict looking for a cheap fix, "Can you uh...uh, hook me up with some of the um...the good shit?"
I couldn't stop a smile from creeping up my lips. Did you know that dragons can be bribed with scratches behind their ears? Turned out they can, and apparently its the same thing as hitting a line of coke. I took my glove off and gave him a good scratch on the back of his head. Kid started making a noise that sounded like a very happy cat and slapping the ground with his tail involuntarily. Taro took notice almost instantly.
"Hey! The fuck did I tell you about getting high on the battlefield?" He snapped, only half serious.
"Gotta...gotta get my fix boss." Blitz said continuing the act.
"Fuckin' helpless addict." Taro hissed through a grin as Hendricks approached.
"Taro shut up." Tyson grunted, "He fucking earned those."
"My friends from above! An impressive show Blitz! Your moniker of Demônio do céu is well earned!"
Blitz smiled, "It's a badge of honor General!"
"You killed many men today!?" He laughed, "Yes we all did!"
"Where's Frank General?", Emelia asked.
"He's being held captive in the Lucapa mines my Eastern friend! Under the supervision of a very dangerous man! You will never reach him on your own! I promised we would help you, you need only give me a few hours for my men to arrive! Once they do, we will have tanks, helicopters, hundreds of men!"
"He's right Emelia!" Blitz agreed, "We gotta give the man a chance to uphold his end of the bargain!"
"Frank may not have that long!" She argued.
"Frank's a hard bastard!" Hudson said, "He'll make it!"
"Give me time my friends." Hendricks said, "We will repay your kindness in full, on this, you have my word."
"What kind of time frame are we looking at?" I asked.
"The earliest I can have everyone ready is twelve hours, almost exactly."
"Give me fourteen, I'm going to make some calls of my own."
Hendricks went back to his buffle, I climbed up on the tank rapping on the hatch.
"'OI you fuckin' Englishman! Open the tank!"
"John?" Hudson asked.
"No way we'll take Lucapa with a couple of T62's, an old hind and three hundred guys, DRC's been dug in for months, we'll need a full strike package at minimum."
Carl unlocked the hatch, answering it with his Glock 18 drawn, as he should have.
"I'm not signing your fucking check if you kill me." I shrugged looking down at him.
He didn't break eye contact as he lowered his sidearm, "Sup boss man?"
"Gimme that sat phone, I need to make a call."
Carl looked down into the darkness of the tank, fishing around for a moment before handing me the sat phone.
"How are you on 105?" I asked.
"Getting a little low, I think we're down to like ten or eleven."
"You need any fuel, water, food or any other supplies?" I asked.
"We need all those things boss man, we've been living in this fuckin' thing for four weeks. If you could get us another tank crew, that'd be great."
"How many you think we need?"
"If this is just a taste of what's to come? Two more should do us, as long as Blitz stays airborne, if not, then four."
"Blitz!?"
"Sup!?"
"How much fight you got left in ya?"
"If we're going to be hanging around for fourteen hours? I'll have plenty!"
I nodded, "Good news."
I jumped off the tank and slung my AKM Carl and the others crawled out of their tank for some fresh air and spread out. Blitz took the opportunity to get scratches from whomever he could, much to Taro's annoyance. I dialed out the sat phone, leaning against the tank initially, recoiling when I remembered that the back of the tank was where the engine was.
"Ouch fuck!" I hissed.
"Hey it's hot John." Carl laughed.
"Yeah no fuckin' shit Sherlock."
The sat phone rang, I heard someone answer and recognized Charlie's voice.
"OP Forty Solutions."
"Miss Charlie, John here. How's it going for you over there?"
"Oh quiet night boss, just me and some of the guys playing checkers. What's up?"
"I need you to update mission packet RE8741598. We've learned Frank is being held in an enemy controlled town, I'm going to need some additional packages to complete this job."
"One moment please."
I could hear her typing on the computer, "What are you needing John?"
"I need you to pull Strike Forces Halo, Archer and Ester and send them over. I need two additional Infantry strike packages, four armor packages and call sign Glutton tag TR999 needs a full resupply kit. I'm also going to need you to pull Dropkick off whatever it is that those ladies are up to and send them all over."
"That's quite a bit of firepower John." She noted as she typed away on the computer.
"What it's going to take to get Frank out. You know I don't leave my own behind."
Charlie typed furiously on the computer for a few minutes before she picked the phone back up.
"Okay John, the packet is updated, I'll start making phone calls, what kind of time frame are we looking at?"
"Call Sealegs and tell them they're gonna be comped their vacation time. I need all that shit here in fourteen hours."
"We can make that happen in twelve."
"I'd expect nothing less Charlie."
I hung up the sat phone, "OP 40! Regroup on me!"
My men gathered around the tank. I picked up a piece of metal out of the dirt and drew a very rough diagram of Lucapa in the dirt.
"Gentlemen, this is Lucapa, and Frank Logan is being held somewhere within the city diamond mines. Now, Mr. Hendricks plans to assault the town with his men from three different angles."
I drew the lines where Hendricks was planning to assault the town in the dirt, he had planned to send the bulk of his invasion force up the main road, with two smaller tank crews and his air power attacking the other two angles, hoping to sandwich the DRC forces in-between all three sides, splitting them into groups and making them easier to deal with.
"To this end, Carl, per your request, I've ordered four additional tank units, you'll be leading them attached to the bulk of Hendricks's invasion force. You have permission to engage all enemy armor and vehicles, but do not fire upon any structures unless you can confirm all contacts inside are hostile, I won't tolerate civilian casualties, is this understood?"
"Fully sir." Carl acknowledged.
"Hudson, you, Issac, Wyatt, Emelia and Blitz will be with me. Once we have Frank's exact location, the six of us will move to secure."
"Taro you'll be with the main invasion force, bringing up the rear behind my tanks. Don't expose yourselves, but other than that, you'll be free to issue orders to your dragons as you deem fit."
Taro shook his head, "Give us the easy work behind the armor? I'm fine with that."
"How come you always pick Blitz to go do the cool shit with ya' John?" Tyson asked.
"I like him the best." I shrugged.
Taro grabbed his snout to hold in the laugh that seemed to be trying very hard to escape. Faline snickered.
"Cold." She said.
"So, John...if I can?" Blitz asked.
"What's on your mind brother?" I asked.
"Do we know exactly where Frank is?"
"I know he's in the mines. Hendricks men on the inside can't give us a solid answer, only certain DRC army members are allowed to interact with the prisoners."
"Are we sure he's still there?" Blitz continued.
I nodded, "Positive."
I shouted to get Hendrick's attention, waving him over. He finished up whatever he was doing with one of his officers and came over to me.
"Mason, what is it?"
"I've been consulting with my men back stateside, along with my dragons here. We've ordered several more infantry units, four tanks and my AC-130 gunship to help support your men during the invasion of the town."
Hendricks smiled, "This is great news!"
"My infantry and two tanks will be attached to your men who will be leading the main force into town along EN-180, you'll have one tank on your eastern flank and one on your western. Taro and his dragons will be bringing up the rear of the main force, and my Gunship will be providing close air support, Taro will have their opcon, feel free to point out targets."
Tyson raised one of his arms, in an "excuse me" sort of motion, "You're gonna give him the gunship? Come on! How come everyone else always gets the cool shit?"
"Like you know how to phone an airstrike," Faline quipped.
"It's easy!" Tyson argued.
"When have you ever ordered an airstrike?" Blitz asked.
"Strange as it may seem Blitzy..."
Blitz cut him off, "HEY! Only Hudson and John are allowed to call me that."
Tyson seemed shocked that Blitz would try and argue with him, so shocked in fact that he dropped his argument all together.
"I know how to read a fucking map." He muttered to himself.
Hendricks turned to me, "My friends, my men will continue to hold this forward position until my men arrive, how long it will be before yours will be joining us?"
"Twelve hours."
"Very well, feel free to get some rest in the town hotel until we're ready to move out, you've certainly earned it."
Coming off damn near a week straight with no sleep due to constant mortar attacks and infantry skirmishes, sleep was much needed. I left Carl with Hendricks' men while the rest of us retreated back to town. The Calonda hotel was certainly not five star accommodation, in fact, in the US the hotel probably would be shut down due to glaring health and safety issues, but having said that, it wasn't going to come crashing down on our heads short of a mortar or artillery barrage. They put us up in rooms on the top floor when we had got here, but due to the way some of the things had played out, we'd been able to sleep here maybe two nights out of the four weeks we'd been here. Normally I would be averse to not having easy access to ground escape routes, but the rooms we were given had a great view of the streets, good fire positions. They also had quick roof access, so we could get up to the roof and to Taro and the dragons in case something went wrong. They put up on the roof, and besides Blitz, who decided he wanted something to eat, the dragons were all asleep almost as soon as they put down. I guess reptiles plus hot rocks to sleep on equals sleep, I would also assume it had nothing to do with the fact we'd all been up in excess of a week straight. I was pretty sure the bed in my room had bed bugs, so sleeping pad it was. I dug it out of my ALICE pack, rolled it out and collapsed, falling asleep damn near as soon as my head hit my rolled up jacket.
Sometimes, when I lay down at night, before I fall asleep, I let my mind roam, and rest on all kinds of things. I still wonder, even today, who exactly we had crossed.
The next twenty four hours were going to change the way Operation 40 Solutions fought. Just, no one knew it yet.