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Post by 2t2crash on Apr 30, 2018 16:48:46 GMT -6
Sorry, I have been busy as hell or sick. I'll get to typing tonight. I'm slacking and I know it.
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Post by 2t2crash on May 1, 2018 0:32:58 GMT -6
this might get some minor tweaks, but here's part of the next chapter.
16. We watched our targets from our elevated position in nervous readiness, weapons at the ready with fingers on triggers. While the FFACA vehicles stopped in their tracks after the explosion the military HMMWV’s response was completely different. With experience and training the driver pushed through the kill zone and moved towards the hairpin turn, angling it’s nose forward towards our position as it parked, the M2 Browning in the CROWS mount moving and pointing up towards us. We still had an angle on it from our position if it needed to be fired on by our gun.
Zach spoke to me keeping his eyes down range. “We are going cyclic for the first 30 seconds so keep me fed.”
I tapped Zach on the right shoulder and spoke into his left ear. “Belt change fast, out of the AP and into ball!” As he opened the top cover and pulled out the belt of AP rounds I fed hem a belt of full metal jacket ammunition. There was no reason to waste the limited amount of armor piercing rounds we had right now, If the .50 down the hill cut loose on us we were screwed either way.
Zach slammed the cover shut and racked the bolt back twice and got back behind the sights. I was amazed that it had only taken us seconds to accomplish the swap out. We were just in time because the silence was broken by the thunderous report of Uncle Leo’s hunting rifle. The devastation his rifle’s 300 Winchester magnum round could do to a full-sized elk was impressive, but what it did to the head of the FFACA member behind the mounted machinegun atop the lead vehicle was downright disturbing. In a split second the round had entered the trooper’s nasal cavity and took it and half the side of his head out, spraying it over the top of the vehicle and pavement behind him. With gruesome satisfaction we realized one of the main threats was currently down and that the first shot was our signal to fire.
I experienced the same sense of time slowing down like I had when these communist thugs had attacked my home. My focus homed in on the first group I saw run for the meager cover down below us and pointed them out.
“Targets, two o’clock.”
The air erupted with the sound of our gun as Zach held the trigger back. With a steady beat the WWII era machinegun hammered its steady song of death in what seemed an unending stream of rounds. By sending out our steady fire without the typical pauses between short bursts we were establishing our “mad minute” of fire, which was used to throw the enemy into a panic and to create chaos from the high rate of incoming rounds. Our initial rounds send the squad we targeted below into a panic, killing two with the first series of shots and sending the others running for cover behind the trees that they had down below. With our line of fire obstructed we needed to shift fire.
“Shift left, targets direct front. Rake the deuces.” My target call out was obeyed immediately as Zach started firing on the rear most truck, walking the rounds from bumper to bumper, ensuring that the anyone still in the vehicle stayed that way. As he ripped the cab of the second truck the gun went dry.
“Load a fucking belt and clip them together so I don’t run out of rounds! Feed me and hurry the hell up!”
I scrambled to pass the next belt to the receiver, so intent on our targets I had failed at one of my primary jobs: keep the machine running. With the belt successfully fed I clipped the tail end of it to another one, extending the belt from 100 to 200 rounds. As We continued to target and fire on our enemies below as the rest of our line capitalized on their shock.
I glanced over for a second to see my son in the fray, making me proud yet breaking my heart at the same time. With his body low, head and arms above the wall I could see him aim the .30 carbine and pull the trigger in controlled rapid shots, no doubt trying to take another human’s life. I had served so many years, watched him grow up from a baby to his 16 years now a man. The entire time wishing he and his sister would never need to be in the position he was in right now. I watched as the slide locked back on his rifle and he swapped the thirty-round magazine for a fresh one, reaching his offhand under the rifle to pull the slide back and chamber the first round. He had kept his firing hand in control of the rifle, finger straight and not on the trigger the whole time. Funny how a simple reload trick could be learned from a damn video game.
Down the line our group fired their various weapons, some with complete calm and control that comes with experience, others firing a little wildly as the fear and adrenaline overtook their senses. Then there was Uncle Leo, calmly standing up and ignoring rounds snapping occasionally by. He’d find a target and pull the trigger on his rifle then calmly cycle the bolt and find another priority. I doubt he’d fired more than 10 shots.
Back on task I focused on my job with the MG. Zach had switched to 5 to 7 round bursts with the gun to keep from overheating the barrel as well as preserve ammunition. The FFACA troops below had attempted forward movement amongst the trees but their efforts deteriorated almost immediately after a well-placed shot from Leo had killed their commander. Command structure in the military most of us had served in was far different than many around the world, and obviously our ambushed targets. We had been trained that if the highest ranking became a casualty the next below would step in and take charge. Additionally, our smaller units were led by NCOs who were practiced at adapting to situations and working through them. Many other armies, particularly younger ones relied on a single point of command. Eliminate the command and destroy the enemy’s war fighting capabilities. With the loss of their leader the black clad troops had also lost its ability to be an effective fighting force. Zach and I had run out of targets to fire at, as he stayed behind the gun and searched I came up to a kneeling position next to my son to see what the hell he was still shooting at. To my horror he pointed the carbine at the military hummer and made three quick shots, drilling the vehicle twice in the windshield. I stood up and smacked the back of his helmet like he was a young Airman.
“NOT THE FUCKING HUMMER WITH THE .50 CAL!”
Realizing he and I were standing up with no cover at all I grabbed him and dropped down. He had an embarrassed and hurt look on his face. With the gunfire all but ceased I looked him in the eye and realized I had screwed up in my approach.
“Sorry son but listen, you’re here with us and wielding a weapon in combat. If you’re going to fight like a soldier you need to pay attention to what are effectively orders. That 50 will cut this rock wall down like it’s nothing and scatter pieces of us across the parking lot. Make sure you pay attention! I’m proud of you kid, you did good. Police your brass and magazines, stay down.”
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Post by arkansascob on May 1, 2018 9:28:15 GMT -6
Thanks for the read. Really enjoying this story. Hope you get to feeling better.
COB
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Post by 2t2crash on May 1, 2018 10:49:17 GMT -6
Thanks for the read. Really enjoying this story. Hope you get to feeling better. COB Thanks COB, I'm good now, just trying to cough out the last of the crap in my lungs. I'm glad you are enjoying the story. fun fact: that was only half of the chapter. I'll have the other half up in a day or two.
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Post by htfiremedic on May 1, 2018 12:12:54 GMT -6
Yeah!!!
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Post by 9idrr on May 1, 2018 17:08:16 GMT -6
Almost as seems though I can smell the smoke and hear the sounds.
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Post by 2t2crash on May 3, 2018 0:27:28 GMT -6
16 continued.
Zach held his position behind the gun, keeping his attention down range as I linked another belt to the one already loaded into the .30 cal. While we scanned the eerily quiet ambush site a call went out over the radio, breaking the silence.
“Jake, Corey, Brad, Jose, form up and work your way down to there and sweep the area for survivors. Jim, Matt, on me. Castle out.”
I looked at my son who had sat down with his back to the wall next to me. “Hey, take over, do as Zach says and keep your eyes open. Set the Carbine against the wall for now.” I got up and grabbed my AR-15 and headed towards Uncle Leo who was in the center of the long length of our ambush position. As I was walking my brothers and cousin, along with Jose, walked past me. All had their weapons at the ready and were moving with a purpose, with Brad in the lead. I approached my Uncle and stood next to him, looking at the destruction below.
“Jim, Matt, after they clear the area we are going to walk down to the soldiers in that Hummer with our weapons slung and hands where they can see them so we don’t get shot. Hopefully they are just sitting there with their thumbs up their asses for a reason and we can have a chat with them.”
Matt looked at our uncle curiously. “Why me, not that I’m complaining but just curious.”
“Matt you’ve never served, they’ll be able to tell and it should show that we’re not just some half ass militia driving around looking for trouble.”
“Okay.”
We watched as our small squad advanced through the trees, bounding from cover to cover, always watching what is ahead of them. The trees were old growth and very tall but had been maintained and trimmed of low branches by the Park Services to allow traffic to have at least some visual capability of any vehicles traveling that section of the road. This allowed us our view point advantage from up high. The ground was still covered in thick ferns, most had been trampled or torn up by the carnage, but not all of it. What we couldn’t see because of the ground cover was a small ditch that had been cut through for rain and snow melt runoff. It was from here that our squad got involved in a very close in fight.
Brad led the group through the woods, moving slowly with smooth side to side turns of his head to take in the area ahead of him. He had fought in Afghanistan desert and mountain terrain, not thick forest, the saving grace was that he had trained in environments like this a lot. As his group got closer the familiar smells started to come to him, the acrid smell of burnt powder in the air combined with the smell of blood, abdominal wounds and burnt flesh from the IED hit.
Something didn’t feel right to him so he paused and crouched lower. Trusting his instincts was a lesson he had learned before, they had saved his life and the lives of others when they told him danger was near. Brad lifted his muzzle from low ready, rolling the stock in place as he brought the sights up. He swore he heard a voice low in whisper but wasn’t sure, his hearing was even worse than the others thanks to gunfire and the all too loudly played music he listened to as a teen.
He turned to his left as he heard rustling in the ferns and a single voice yell out.
“NOW!”
To Brad’s surprise seven figures emerged from the foliage, rising seemingly out of nowhere not five feet to his left. Chaos ensued as a flurry of shots were fired from both groups. Brad rotated his torso, bringing his AR-15 to bear, firing a series of shots so fast they couldn’t be counted. Two attackers had lunged in his direction, one in front of the other. Brad’s rounds drilled the forward most man in the center mass with two more in the head, the figure fell to the ground mere inches in front of him.
The man behind the first attacker pulled the trigger on his rifle but cursed as it failed to fire, he had failed to reload. With rage in his eyes he charged Brad, arms out in a clumsy move to choke him. Brad was so intent on his target that the gun fire, grunts, curses and screams of pain around him did not register. With only a slight adjustment to his aim he fired a single round between the eyes of his next target, dropping him like a puppet with its strings cut. Before Brad could change his focus, he was tackled from his right with a hard hit to the side, sending him to the ground hard. With little time to react he received a punch to the mouth, splitting his lip and putting stars in his head. Years of martial arts and self-defense techniques took over as if on auto-pilot. He let go his grip on his rifle and brought both arms up to cover his face, wrapping his legs around the man on top of him. The taste of blood on his tongue infuriated Brad and he lashed out, hitting the man hard in the ribs with a right hook. The attacker’s attempts to land blows on Brad’s sides were largely ineffective due to the body armor, magazines, radio and other gear that made up his kit. The FFACA platoon had been equipped with only decades old web gear which provided no such protection. This meant all of Brad’s strikes were felt completely. Capitalizing on the pause of incoming punches, Brad jammed his forearm into his opponent’s face, attempting to push him off balance. He was rewarded with a hard bite to his own arm that cut deep and caused even more blood to flow.
With a moment of clarity through the haze of rage Brad reached down to his right pocket and grabbed his knife. With a flick of his thumb a thin double-edged blade shot out the front of the handle and locked in place in the blink of an eye. As he thrust the knife forward he felt a release on his left arm and wrapped it around the head of the man still on top of him, pulling the head forward as hard as he could. Brad was now in full control and adjusted his aim with the switchblade, bringing it higher and targeting the lungs and hopefully hit the heart. After a series of thrusts Brad threw the now mortally wounded man off him and took a deep breath, puzzled by the silence around him.
The first to break the silence was Corey
“Holy f***!”
Brad sat up checking himself for wounds as he realized his uniform and gear was covered in blood. Satisfied the worst of it was his arm he grabbed his rifle and looked around to see that his other three squad members were staring at him with their jaws dropped.
Jake walked up. “Are you okay little brother? That shit was intense!”
Brad accepted Jakes hand and got to his feet. “That bitch bit me.”
Jose, oldest in the group of four and no stranger to ugly close in fighting was wiping his old Kabar off on a dead man’s shirt. “Three on one, doesn’t pay to be the furthest forward when you get rushed. Let’s get to those vehicles and call Doc down.
As Corey limped along Jake looked at him in mock disgust. “Of all of us, how does your short ass take a round to the leg?”
“It’s just a graze, anyway... eat a dick Air Winger.”
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Post by 2t2crash on May 7, 2018 23:49:23 GMT -6
Another chapter for you all. quick note on military lingo. POG/Pogue: a derogatory term for anyone not a grunt/infantry.
17 With the fighting finally over we all realized there was still an armored hummer from Fort Lewis to deal with. Uncle Leo was the first to break the momentary post combat pause.
“Everyone safe and shoulder your weapons and stand up slowly so those soldiers can see us. Jim, Matt and I will go talk to those guys.
With a sigh Leo started heading down the road with us by his side. “I hope we don’t get our asses shot off. Keep your hands where they can see em and we’ll take it slow.”
Time seemed to crawl as we walked the distance towards the vehicle and that big ass .50 caliber on top. The fact that it had not moved at all, nor pointed at us was reassuring. Once we reached about 15 feet away from the two military members they opened their doors and cautiously exited, keeping the vehicle’s armor between them and us but not acting in a hostile manner. With a simple command the individual on the driver’s side initiated our interaction.
“HALT!”
We stopped in our tracks, two of us knowing this was a pretty standard challenge, my cousin Matt was the only one out of the loop and nervous. Uncle Leo looked over at him.
“Relax Matt, this is normal.”
“Identify yourselves!” the driver issued the second step.
“I’m the leader of this group, Leo Castleman. To my left is my nephew Matt, and to my right is another nephew Jim. And how about you gentlemen?”
“I am Sergeant First Class Caldwell, and this is Staff Sergeant Chen, US Army. If we come out and expose ourselves do we need to worry about being shot by one of your yahoos?”
“Negative, we are trying to defend ourselves from FFACA and have no quarrel with the military, hell most of us are veterans.”
We watched and waited as Caldwell and Chen first looked at each other, then both shrugged and walked around the doors and waved us forward. We took the invitation and walked to within five paces of the two soldiers. I was first to notice their patches.
“Holy shit, what the f*** are two Long Tabbers doing with a convoy of those black clad bastards?”
Caldwell sighed, pulled out a tin of tobacco and put a sizable pinch in and spit the loose bits off his lips. “We aren’t with them per say. There’s a lot of shit we need to clue you in on that the commies don’t know is going on but first we need to ask you guys some things and get a feel for you. IF we think you guys are legit we can go further, but if we don’t like what we are hearing we’re hitting the road, laying waste to anyone dumb enough to fire on us and then reporting to our commander.” He paused for a second, took his ball cap off with one hand and scratched his head. After replacing his cap, he spit some tobacco juice out and started again. “First off can I call you Leo or do you have a title like “The Colonel” or some shit?”
Uncle Leo was taken aback for a second but I started laughing my ass off at what Caldwell had just said. What Uncle wasn’t aware of was that my generation of warfighters looked at the fringe militias with contempt, they were sloppy extremists and always led by some massively obese asshole who was a self-titled Colonel or General.
Matt and Leo both looked at me perplexed. “What the hell is so funny cuz?”
“It’s a military thing Matt, SFC Caldwell here is trying to see if we are a militia group like the idiots on TV.”
Uncle Leo’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh I get it now.” He turned back to the SF Sergeant. “No, Leo is fine, Mr. Castleman if you wish… Just not Sir, I worked for a living.”
Caldwell smiled, he had learned a lot in just a couple of minutes. “Ok, that answers one huge question. Now for the next: You all have caused one hell of a ruckus lately, and REALLY pissed off the Governor. You don’t seem to have killed any civilians aside from the group outside of McChord and your convoy seems to excel at eliminating threats so what’s the deal and what are your intentions?”
Uncle Leo sighed. “Well first off we are almost all family by blood or considered so through loyalty and comradery. What we are is a group of mostly combat veterans and some POGs like Jim here that refuse to turn in our weapons or watch the country turn into a socialist shithole like most of Europe has. We aim to get out of Western Washington and setup shop in a more securable location to hopefully be left alone. This convoy seems to prove that isn’t going to happen. We have no quarrel with folks that leave us alone and we pray the military is not going to be coming after us or else we are truly fucked. In short we aim to uphold our oaths we took years ago.”
Caldwell leaned back against the hood of his vehicle, crossed his arms and looked down as he spit again. He stood like that in silence for a few moments, obviously thinking over everything Uncle Leo said. He looked back up and at me this time.
“A POG heh? You sure handled directing that machinegun quite well. What the hell is that and where did you get it?”
“Yeah, I used to load cargo and passengers on planes. I was in Tikrit in 06, plus I’ve been deployed all over elsewhere. That MG is a Browning M1919A6 that I illegally converted to full auto, a couple of my friends were Machine gunners in Iraq who taught me.”
Caldwell nodded his head at the information I passed to him. Looking back at Leo he asked more questions. “How large is your force and are you guys following any rules of engagement?”
A single shot rang out down at the ambush site, we all looked over as Brad safed his weapon and dropped and hopped onto the hood of the lead Hummer and gave a shout of delight.
“Uhhh, well we haven’t set rules for wounded, but any FFACA or persons threatening us are considered hostile. We will not terrorize nor harm non-combatants and we will scrounge anything we get our hands on. I’m not telling you the size of our group.”
The two sergeants looked at each other, then back at us. Caldwell spoke up. “Give us a few minutes to converse and place a call.”
Uncle Leo nodded and we turned to head down to the carnage. As we came up to the lead vehicle we watched as Brad unceremoniously dumped a body out of the passenger rear door. He began looking over the M240 in the turret.
“Awe damnit, this thing is a fucking 240 Bravo, and it’s been beat to shit.”
I looked up at him. “You just inherited a free general-purpose machinegun, what in the hell do you have to bitch about?”
“First off this thing is an old ass Bravo model, not a Lima like I’m used to. This thing has the heavy ass stock, its weighs a fucking ton, the bipod is bent to shit and it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in a decade.”
Matt stared incredulously. “It’s a FREE MACHINEGUN!”
Our Uncle spoke up “Matt, a bitching soldier is a happy soldier, ignore him.”
“Hey little brother, how much ammunition is in there?”
Brad dropped down and checked, popping back up he smiled. “Plenty!”
A loud whistle had us turn our heads back to the two Special Forces men where we saw them waving us over.
I looked back at Brad. “Have fun gathering that shit up, scrounge anything you can. If any of the vehicles are worth taking load them with everything you pull off the other vehicles and bodies. Ammo, guns, gear, take all that shit.” The rear of the Hummer was open and on the ground beside the two men was a black case with the top open. Caldwell was the first to speak.
“Here’s the deal: we weren’t sent here just to escort that group of idiots we were with. We were sent by the JBLM base commander to observe them, and you if they managed to catch up. Since they are now currently taking dirt naps you’ve proven you know what you are doing. Our questions for you were to feel out if you were a group that might be worth watching and supporting. Our command liked the quick report we sent them and agreed with our judgement call on you. The pelican case contains a few items that SSgt Chen will go over real quick.”
“Right, alright first off is a satellite phone. This thing is for emergency calls to us. It will be picked up by my company commander, if you call your sweetheart back in Seattle he’ll be pissed and it will be shut down. Next are a couple of sets of our current issued night vision goggles, plus head and helmet harness kits. Additionally, there is a solar charging kit to keep the phone charged and on in case we call you. Lastly is an infrared beacon in case we want to air drop anything to you, there are instructions in the case for it and if you have questions use the phone.”
SFC Caldwell took over again. “Obviously if anyone asks we will deny giving you this equipment. All military bases seem to be locked down from the outside. The president has really lost her shit and is treating us like pests and criminals. All active duty bases here in WA and most other states flat out refuse to help the FFACA aside from sending some units out as observers to get a bigger picture of what is going on. You guys wore the uniform and know what it’s about and how we feel about being used on home soil. For us the SF motto of De Oppresso Liber has taken a meaning we never thought of when applied to the states. Expect to hear from us again, but understand if we catch wind that you all start attacking civilians and shit that it won’t be a nice visit. We are going to get the f*** back to base. Good luck and God bless.”
We all shook hands and watched as the heavy vehicle slowly weaved its way down through the debris and devastation from the attack. Uncle Leo broke our stunned silence. “Well, take this up to the vehicles. It’s time to round up our little assault team down there and get moving
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Post by htfiremedic on May 8, 2018 11:56:47 GMT -6
Heck Fire Yeah! That is all...
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Post by 2t2crash on May 8, 2018 13:33:26 GMT -6
this is my first attempt at writing, I'm humbled and pleased you guys like it. feedback is ALWAYS welcome.
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remembergoliad
Member
if you send friend req on FB, message me too. I won't accept if I don't recognize you.
Posts: 158
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Post by remembergoliad on May 10, 2018 21:09:11 GMT -6
You'll get only positive feedback from me. Great story line, well written and properly punctuated. What more could a reader ask for? (Except for MOAR, of course....LOL)
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Post by texican on May 11, 2018 1:16:59 GMT -6
2t2,
Several fine chapters....
The clan did fine even with the ambush....
The feeling of danger has saved many a man and patrol....
A few more chapters will be devoured greedily by the Moar Hounds....
Thanks,
Texican....
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Post by 2t2crash on May 13, 2018 23:53:37 GMT -6
chapter 17 continued.
I looked at the mess below and then our de facto leader. “What should we do about the mess? I doubt anymore of them are following, that was supposed to be their elites.” “Good point, line the dead up on the side of the road, search them for intel or anything useful. Operational vehicles we can use, leave the rest. I want us on the road in 15 minutes, I’m sure the rest of the group is starting to worry.”
“Got it.” I reached over and keyed my handheld radio. “Police the area, scrounge up weapons and ammo, check the dead. Load it in any vehicles still running, we leave in 15.”
“I’ll head back up top and get everyone there ready Uncle.” With that I turned and walked up the steep incline. Most of the ambush party that had stayed at the top of the road were already at their vehicles, I noticed Ryan sitting atop of the rock barrier with Rich, both smoking a cigarette. The handful of butts on the ground by Rich told me something was up. He looked a little worse for wear as I approached and it had me worried for my old friend.
“Hey brother you alright?”
Rich just stared off into the valley, taking another puff.
“Doc, is he okay?”
Ryan looked at me. “He’s alright Pare, some of us are going to have to deal with our old demons we thought we had locked away. I’m going to go stow my shit in your truck for now if that’s okay?
“Of course man, you doing alright?”
“Living the dream cuz, living the dream.”
Living the dream… the saying a lot of us had adopted during our time in the desert, I guess every war had its own unofficial saying. “FUBAR”. “It Don’t Mean Nothin”. “Livin the Dream”. The simple ways of verbally brushing off or burying down deep the trauma, the suck, and the pain everyone dealt with on some level in a war zone.
“Yeah Ryan, living it.” As he walked away I sat on the wall next to Rich. “Hey Army, talk to me man, what’s up?”
Rich dropped his head a bit, chewing his lip a bit. Emotions and troubles, the things we kept to ourselves in our youth but now older and wiser we had learned through various settings that talking helped. “I froze man. It’s not stress or unwillingness to fire, you know I’ll snatch the life from anyone threatening my family and friends. It’s just…”
I used the pause to fish out two smokes out of a pack I had borrowed and not returned earlier, while he gathered his thoughts. I lit them both and handed him one, his own having turned to line of ash and a filter. He took it, inhaled again and looked me eye to eye, his own showing confusion and a bit of anger. “That fucking IED man, it brought back memories and shit that I wasn’t expecting. I don’t care if we blow those bastards up using every dirty trick that was used on us but I want to know about it and prepare myself! It woke memories up and it was like I was back inside the truck I was in that got blasted, I couldn’t do shit. I didn’t even fire my damn weapon.”
“It’s alright man, look I don’t know what it’s like to be blown the f*** up and you know that but we both know how the shit we have dealt with comes back at the oddest times. There will be more fighting I’m sure. I still wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. Quit feeling like an asshole, and get your head back in the game man. You got this!”
“Fuckin Chair-Force… I love to hate when you’re right.” Rich smiled, stood up and stretched. “Man they really fucked some shit up down there, I’m pissed I didn’t get to play! Next time.”
“Next time, tonight beer is on me. We’ll make sure Corey gives us a heads up next time he wants to make things go boom.”
“yeah man. You know what’s going to suck?”
“What?”
“When we all start running out of meds and shit we got from the VA for pain, anxiety and sleep disorders.”
“HAH! If they think we are dysfunctional and disgruntled now, they are going to be in for it when that happens.”
“No shit.”
By the time we both got to our trucks and got our gear off and situated the cleanup team had arrived in the reclaimed FFACA vehicles. It appears we now have the lead HMMWV which needed a serious cleaning to remove parts of its former gunner, the command vehicle, and one seriously shot to shit troop truck that had a pile of weapons and boxes in the rear. The vehicles stopped beside ours, disgorging some of the passengers who went to their respective rides. Brad walked up to my driver’s side window and looked at me.
“We are ready to go, Uncle says we’ll move at the speed limit. You lead, keep Zach up on the gun. I’ll ride in the brain-mobile as tail end Charlie. This’ll put a gun up front, and one in the rear. The rest of the family has already been contacted, they are down in town and about to eat at that burger joint we always stop at before heading into camp during hunting season.”
“Sounds good. You might want to see if anyone has a can of paint or duct tape or something to cover up FFACA on the new vehicles. I don’t think you want to get shot at by folks not friendly towards the socialist scumbags.”
“Good point, I’ll cover it with tape for now. You lead off and we’ll fall in at the rear. Let’s get to our loved ones, then get settled somewhere. This day has lasted long enough.”
“Word.”
“All vehicles this is Hercules, let’s get moving.”
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Post by 2t2crash on May 15, 2018 1:51:49 GMT -6
18.
KING 5 NEWS REPORTING:
“Good evening I’m Shauna Brown with your news tonight and we have a lot to cover. It has been just over 24 hours since President Clampton’s national address and the announcement of her sweeping gun bans and already the nation has been swept into chaos as FFACA officials begin their confiscations. There are reports of hundreds of citizens dead and thousands arrested who have refused to relinquish their assault weapon caches. While the FFACA has reported minimal casualties on their end they have requested a massive increase in their manpower as they face a surprising amount of resistance. The FFACA gun confiscation teams were intended to be reinforced by the National Guard however most of the Guard units have reported an unprecedented percentage of members failing to show for muster. The highest reported was at 15% in California, and many states in the south reporting less than one percent having shown for duty. State governors are perplexed at the historically low muster and many have stated that they are working with communication issues. Capitol Hill experienced its own moment of madness as Senate Minority Leader Nick Hale from Texas led a walk out during a Presidential address to Congress. He was joined by legislators from 20 other states in what has spearheaded the divide of our nation. When asked to give a statement outside, Senator Hale said “The great state of Texas and the states represented here beside me will not accept such tyranny nor sit back and listen to lies and propaganda”. Wow, it appears these men and women have forgotten how a Democracy works. In response to the walk out President Clampton has promised ramifications for the disrespect she received today.
In local news the standoff between the police and JBLM has come to a peaceful end after Governor Mendez personally traveled to Fort Lewis and demand the base commander supply supporting soldiers to the FFACA teams that are dealing with troublesome areas that are refusing to turn over their firearms and ammunition stock piles. In return for the General’s cooperation the state police are once again allowing military personnel to travel to and from their homes off base.
Breaking now are reports of a full-scale battle that occurred between FFACA and the now confirmed McCoy family militia. A FFACA convoy heading through Salmon Pass was ambushed by the despicable McCoys. It is being reported to us by the Governor’s office that the convoy was heading to Eastern Washington to conduct peaceful weapons collections when they were fired upon with heavy machineguns and military weaponry no doubt stolen or bought on the black market. Evidence at the scene indicated that at least six of the FFACA officers had surrendered to the militia group only to be executed, it’s hard to understand how such a brutal group has been living amongst us but it only goes to reinforce the fact that we need to be aware of who lives around us. Governor Mendez urges Washington citizens to report anyone suspected of holding weapons caches of three or more firearms, still legal or not. Our governor has vowed to pursue the McCoys and destroy them, not matter what the cost. That is your nightly news, tune in here for up to the moment news reports with us here at King 5 news, Seattle. Goodnight.
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Post by darkwolf on May 15, 2018 12:13:35 GMT -6
That sounds like all of the news programs that come out of Seattle. They can not even give a strait weather report.
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Post by arkansascob on May 15, 2018 12:28:51 GMT -6
Man you sure nailed the news media with the end of that little chapter. Keeping all the pots stirred. Thats all the media is good for.
COB
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Post by texican on May 15, 2018 23:37:24 GMT -6
2t2,
Fake news knows no bounds....
It is coming....
Texican....
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Post by 2t2crash on May 15, 2018 23:53:27 GMT -6
That sounds like all of the news programs that come out of Seattle. They can not even give a strait weather report. I know, I refuse to watch them because they suck so bad.
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Post by 2t2crash on May 22, 2018 0:12:57 GMT -6
18 continued.
The sun was low in the sky as we hit the outskirts of Naches. We were all worn out physically and mentally from the events of the day which more than a few of us in a less than alert state. All we wanted was to reunite with the other half of our convoy so we could hug our families, eat, and then get on with the last leg of the trip. What we failed to pick up on was the amount of attention we had gathered from the townsfolk as we drove through town. Folks were coming out of their homes and out of the businesses that lined the main drive in and stood there staring at us. Some waved, a handful saluted, most just stared. Odd stares we had gotten used to but when we finally noticed what was going on it woke us all up and both put us on alert, but also perplexed us. A convoy of mixed vehicles, some bullet ridden, others with machine guns on top that was guaranteed to grab the attention of passer byes but this was different. It made us uneasy for our families who were supposed to be waiting for us at our favorite burger shop we’d hit every year before heading to our hunting camp.
After a short half mile we saw the other vehicles lined up, unmolested and quite relaxed.
“All vehicles this is Castle 1 Actual, safe and secure your weapons. We are approaching a non-hostile area.”
Zach dropped the hatch and secured the gun before leaning forward. “How the hell does Castle know its safe up here?”
“I don’t know, he probably got a call from someone but if he says its non-hostile then it is non-hostile. Relax brother, time to pull in and see what’s up.”
“Alright, just asking is all man. Do you smell Barbaque?”
Indeed we did, and as we pulled the vehicles in beside our other convoy half we could see the crowd that included our families relaxing in a grass field beside the burger joint. As we shut down our vehicles the crowd turned to us and actually started to cheer. To go from combat to a relaxed setting with our families and friendly towns folk around us was alien to all of us vets. The events of the day had flipped a switch on that we had long ago turned off, some with much more difficulty than others. To be put back in the war zone mind-set was disturbingly easy, especially for those of us like myself who never saw combat when we were deployed. No longer were we either “over there” or “home. Safe.” Instead we were going to have to deal with being home in the States as well as maintain a hyper aware sense like we did before. Balancing the two was going to suck and by no means was it going to be easy to learn how to.
I opened my door and hopped out, followed by my wife, son, and the crazy ass Marine who was my friend. “Feel free to leave your long-arms here. I’m going to leave mine.” I cleared and safed my AR and hung it in a rack attached to the inside of the roof. Raquel did the same. Jr seemed hesitant.
“Dad can I please keep my carbine on me, I don’t want to be without it right now.”
My heart felt as if it stopped for a few seconds, it hurt; I hurt inside. “Son if you feel you need it you can, just pull your magazine and empty the chamber. You’re safe right now.” I was going to have to have a helluva talk with my boy. Scratch that, with my young adult son.
As we all left our vehicles and approached the gathering ahead of us a single individual stepped forward and held his hand out to Uncle Leo. The gentleman was around 6’ tall and easily in his mid-sixties, black as midnight with graying hair and a wide happy smile on his face. He was William Moorehead, the town sheriff.
“Leo you old bastard you had all the fun without me!”
“Willy this shit ain’t like ‘Nam I’ll tell you that. What the hell is all this?” Uncle Leo waved his hand at the gathering and the grills.
“Well we didn’t know when ya’ll was going to arrive but I figured you were headed this way after I started seeing reports on the news about a group headed from your area towards the Pass, raising hell the whole way through. They might hate you on the wet side of the state but on this side of the mountains you folks are already working up towards hero status just for fighting those scumbags”.
The rest of us stood there incredulously taking in the information when Matt spoke up. “What do you mean on the news?”
Sheriff Moorehead looked over at Matt. “Throughout the day they’ve basically traced your path from right outside the base, through the two towns and roadblocks up to the mountain pass. Your battle up there just hit the news fifteen minutes ago.” He looked back at Uncle Leo. “By the way, where the hell did you get a landmine to blow up that jeep?”
“Not a landmine, our combat engineer over there learned a bit dismantling IEDs in Afghanistan and put it to good use, it was a Hummer by the way.”
William lowered his voice. “But Leo, blowing em up like that? Don’t you remember what that boy did to Henderson back in 68?”
“I do Willy, but we needed to even the odds and this time there’s no pulling punches. What else did the news say?”
“You guys tied up and executed six of them that had surrendered?”
Brad spoke up, quite agitated “That’s bullshit! We didn’t execute prisoners, none of them survived that long.”
The Sheriff put his hands up in a placating manner. “Easy son, I’m just telling you what KING5 said. Anyhow, ya’ll are here and I’m sure you are hungry. Come on in and have a Ranger Burger or two.”
I hung back a bit with Raquel and Tim as Ryan walked over to join us. Raquel and he embraced and started talking to each other in Filipino as we walked to retrieve our daughter and get some food. Ryan looked bothered, my wife looked concerned and my son… well my son had a look in his eyes that a young man his age shouldn’t have. The look of a man who’s been involved in a firefight and accepted his new role.
We spent the next hour and a half eating and trying to relax before heading out. Uncle Leo, Uncle Bill, Larry and the Sheriff had sat to the side the entire time conversing over a meal and some Scotch, about what I didn’t know but I’m sure he’ll tell us when the time came that we needed to know. Finally the older men stood up and Uncle Leo let out a piercing whistle to get our attention.
“Thankyou everyone for the warm welcome and the food, Sheriff Moorehead informed me it was put on by the town for us and we greatly appreciate it. My group it’s time to get moving, clean up any trash and head to the vehicles.”
After checking the area for cleanliness we were thanked by the locals as we walked to our trucks. We loaded up and started our vehicles, heading towards our destination.
Already knowing the location made the drive down the highways relaxing and thus Raquel and I talked about this and that as I drove. We wondered about what we were going to do about food, school, how we’d settle without power to our location and how long this would last. The idle talk helped unwind as well as take our minds off the events of the day. Unfortunately it was bringing up more things to worry about too but those were bridges to cross on another day.
It seemed to take no time at all to reach the dirt trail that was our turn-off from the highway. I kicked the vehicle into 4 wheel drive and started the slow and windy portion of the trip, it’d take us an hour to get to the canyon we planned to stay in.
“Hercules, Castle 1”
“Go”
“Stop at the Y for the night. How copy?”
“Lima Charlie.”
Raquel looked over at me. “Lima Charlie?”
“Loud and Clear. I’m guessing Uncle doesn’t want a convoy of vehicles driving the ridge with their headlights on for the whole world to see.”
The terrain “road” was so familiar to me that I shut off my headlights and drove by my fog lamps to reduce my light output. I noticed others had done the same. We bumped along at a walking pace, unsure of what sections had been washed out or rutted in during the spring snow melt. After 15 minutes we reached the Y in the road that we called camp during hunting season, there was plenty of room for all of the vehicles to park under the trees and out of aerial observation. The area we hunted was mostly scrub or grass covered but certain sections were heavily wooded, we were in the first of four. I shut down my engine and rubbed my eyes. The diesel had drowned out the sound of Zach and Tim sleeping in the back, Zach awoke with a start but Tim just slept on.
“What’s going on? Why are we stopped?”
“Easy Killer, we are stopping here for the night for light discipline.”
“oh.” With that Zach leaned his head back and went back to sleep. The ease in which a Grunt could fall asleep in any position or location still amazes me.
“Everyone shutdown, we’ll head up right as it starts getting light. See you in the morning. Castle One Actual… Out.”
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Post by 9idrr on May 22, 2018 20:42:58 GMT -6
Thanks. Hope they get a long, peaceful rest.
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Post by texican on May 22, 2018 23:54:23 GMT -6
2t2, A little rest before the long climb.... How many are out looking for them? Texican....
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Post by 2t2crash on May 23, 2018 2:16:17 GMT -6
2t2, A little rest before the long climb.... How many are out looking for them? Texican.... None at the moment... well at least not from the living side of things!
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Post by 2t2crash on May 28, 2018 16:04:34 GMT -6
I'll get on another chapter tonight or tomorrow, sorry for keeping ya'll waiting.
Anyhow, if you could please take a drink of whatever you're sipping on in memory of those who gave their lives serving their country.
for me it's
SrA Marquez-Rincon TSgt Eccleston MSgt Pence A1C Taylor all friends, all family.
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Post by bluefox2 on May 28, 2018 18:26:45 GMT -6
I'll get on another chapter tonight or tomorrow, sorry for keeping ya'll waiting. Anyhow, if you could please take a drink of whatever you're sipping on in memory of those who gave their lives serving their country. for me it's SrA Marquez-Rincon TSgt Eccleston MSgt Pence A1C Taylor all friends, all family. Done with a full salute for family and fallen comrades.
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Post by 2t2crash on Jun 2, 2018 2:08:12 GMT -6
sorry for the delay. the Muse got his ass back to work tonight for a solid four hours.
19. JOINT BASE LEWIS-MCCHORD Brigadier General Tom Moore’s briefing room 0700hrs
Major Fisher looked around the base commander’s briefing room which was once again filled with commanders and their Chiefs or Sergeant Majors. This time the room was just as full, but held the leaders of mostly different units than before. She saw mostly logistics and air field operations heads from the USAF side, and what she assumed were the combat teams and some aviators from the Army side of the base. She had a feeling this was not just a status update briefing like the last meeting was. Oddly out of place to her were the two enlisted soldiers sitting on either side of the General’s position.
To her right sat Chief Master Sergeant Davis, her own squadron’s highest enlisted man. Chief Davis was a large man at 6’5 and a good 275lbs of mixed muscle and a bit of a beer belly. She respected the man, though he might struggle with a PT test due to his large waist she knew Chief Davis was a 2T2 to the bone. He had a large boisterous voice that could shut a room down with one word if needed but he also knew the ins and outs of the career field and still loved to join his younger Airman when it came time to “Push heavy shit onto cargo jets” as he would put it. Just as importantly he was loved and respected by both officer and enlisted in the 62 Aerial Port Squadron.
“ROOM! TENCH-HUT!”
In almost unison every individual jumped to attention for Command Sergeant Major Peele’s call.
“As you were everyone.”
The ladies and gentlemen relaxed and sat back down in their chairs as General Moore took the short walk to his seat where he remained standing. The General looked tired as hell but his eyes were still sharply looking around the room at everyone assembled.
“Marshawn is everyone here?”
“Yessir.”
“Good morning everyone, I know this is a bit earlier than our usual briefings but I assure you it is with good reason. First and foremost, I want all cellphones off and out of this room if you have not done so already.”
“Already done Sir.”
“Thankyou. Alright the conversation and briefing you are about to receive absolutely stays within this room, if you have a problem with that leave now.” Nobody left the room or so much as blinked. “Everyone is caught up to the situation at hand so I will not waste time going over it again. The first major topic is national. The US is on the brink of Civil War, this is a fact. This morning at Oh-dark-thirty the commanders of every major base here in the Pacific Northwest held a meeting in secret to discuss what steps we take as a united military front in this region.
Governor Mendez has applied pressure to every base in the region, additionally POTUS has given the Joint Chiefs of Staff orders to ensure every US military instillation falls in line with her rule… that’s right, rule. We know this because the Commandant of the Marine Corps was the only member that President Clampton was not able to replace with a yes-man. He has done us a great service by laying low and not causing waves so as to gather and filter down intel to the rest of the armed forces.
What POTUS has ordered is simple: replace any commanders needed with whomever they felt would fall in line with her ideals and aspirations for this nation. She is setting herself up for dictatorship, which has not gone unnoticed by Congress. The Senators of most of the southern and midwestern states have started a Constitutional Congress behind closed doors, the only states in those regions excluded are New Mexico, Colorado, Minnesota, Illinois, Michigan and Florida due to their loyalty to the president and not the nation. This Second Constitutional Congress is being led by Texas Senator Nick Hale and is aimed towards seceding from the union and establishing a new nation built as the US was intended. The US is split between Loyalist progressives and Constitutionalists.
We are stuck in a tight spot here because we are essentially behind enemy lines, which are being drawn along the Cascade mountains, down through the middle of Oregon and into California.”
We have 72 hours until the announcement of cessation, at which point I expect JBLM and Camp Murray to be relocated to Eastern Washington. Any questions so far?” Major Fisher could not believe her ears. She wasn’t surprised by the status of the nation, it was the timeframe. She looked at Chief Davis in surprise, who was looking grim. She had to speak up.
“Sir?”
“Yes Major?”
“Sir I’m sure you know the manning and capabilities so I have to ask, and pardon my language General…. But we have two squadrons of C-17s, how the hell are we going to move two bases and their personnel plus dependents in that timeframe? It took us weeks to position for the invasion of Iraq and we had the entire USAF airlift system at our disposal?”
“Fisher I’m glad you asked because it leads into the second part of the briefing. To answer your question: we won’t be able to get it all. What I need from the 62 Air Mobility Wing is a no-shit assessment of what you need to move as much as possible. Top priority is dependents, then combat vehicles and personnel.”
A young Captain raised his hand. “Sir, I can help with that.”
“Go ahead.”
“Sir, Captain Smith from Logistics Planning. Each Unit has a priority list for combat operations. Some of your units are self-moving with their own helos, other units will need the C17s, plus if we can get aircraft from Fairchild to help it would ease the burden. Treating this like any contingency deployment plus a NEO evac will cut a lot of the process down.”
General Moore cut in “And for the benefit of those not in the know, a Non-combatant Evacuation Order is exactly what it sounds like. We practiced them overseas to send dependents and others out of danger. I like it, what else?”
“Sir that’d cover it on our end aside from long hours. I don’t think we’d get everything out though.”
From across the room Colonel Smith spoke up. “General I think we could alleviate a lot of the strain on our Air Force units if we convoyed the ground vehicles and as much as they can haul. I highly doubt the local authorities are going to be able to stop us if we have the Strykers as lead elements in each convoy, plus if we mount Mark 19s and M2s on the trucks and hummers we’ll have enough intimidation factor going for us. We can move ourselves Sir, the question is where are we going?”
“That’s a good point Colonel, I want it made absolutely clear that I do not want those convoys treating this like a drive through Fallujah. The last thing we need during this evac is to cut loose on civilians with automatic grenade launchers or fifty cals. The second part of the question comes next. USAF will re-establish operations in Spokane at Fairchild AFB, which is on board with us. The bulk of the Army forces will establish a Forward Operating Base at the Yakima training grounds.
This will be a breakneck speed operation, one that will rival most in history but we have to get it done. This installation WILL NOT be used to support a regime that shreds the constitution, the last step is to crater the runways, blast the towers and destroy any munitions left behind if that can be done with the safety of the surrounding neighborhoods being paramount. That is what I have for now, I need Colonel Eberhart, Major Fisher and Captain Nieves to stay behind, all else dismissed!”
“ROOM—”
“As you were.”
The three-unit commanders and their head enlisted men stayed behind, along with Sergeant First Class Caldwell and SSgt Chen. When the room cleared the General began anew.
“Sergeant Major Peele, if you would please.”
“With pleasure Sir.”
CSM Peele stepped forward from the General’s 5 o’clock, holding a piece of paper and two silver oak leaves in his hand.
“Room, Tench-Hut!”
Major Fisher had no idea what was going on, but everyone else did.
“ATTENTION TO ORDERS: The President of the United States, acting upon the recommendation of the Secretary of the Air Force, has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity, and abilities of Major Dianne Fisher. In view of these special qualities and her demonstrated potential to serve in the higher grader, Major Fisher is promoted to the grade of Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Chief Davis, would you please assist General Moore in pinning on your commander’s new rank?”
Marshawn handed one silver oak cluster to the General, then one to the Chief. Fisher stood in shock as both men removed her rank insignia and replaced them with her new ones.
“Lieutenant Colonel Fisher, I will now re-administer the oath of office.
“I, (state your full name)”
“I, Dianne Fisher”
“Having been appointed a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force”
“Having been appointed a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force”
“Do solemnly swear”
“Do solemnly swear”
“That I will support and defend the constitution of the United States”
“That I will support and defend the constitution of the United States”
“Against all enemies, foreign and domestic”
“Against all enemies, foreign and domestic”
“That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same”
“That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same”
“That I take this obligation freely”
“That I take this obligation freely”
“Without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion”
“Without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion”
“And that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office which I am about to enter”
“And that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office which I am about to enter”
“So help me God.”
“So help me God.”
“Congratulations LT Colonel.”
“Sir… how is this possible when I’m not yet eligible?”
“The President gave base commanders the authority, expecting us to replace anyone not on board with her plan. This is legit Dianne, I need you to have the extra swing as an LTC for this movement so that the other Squadron Commanders do not try to throw weight around. You do deserve this so don’t think for a second it is a promotion not earned. Now, let’s hit this second briefing so you can learn about your second mission while accomplishing the move.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Colonel Eberhart, commander of our Ranger Battalion, Captain Nieves, commander of B Company, Special forces plus his two soldiers Sergeant First Class Caldwell and Staff Sergeant Chen, you know Lieutenant Colonel Fisher, Aerial Port Squadron. SFC Caldwell and his team member are about the brief us on the McCoy encampment that has been absolutely pissing off the FFACA and our plan. Caldwell, please begin.”
“Yessir. We were sent along as an advisor to the FFACA platoon that was chasing the convoy that we assumed was led by Jim McCoy. The ambush it’s self was a well-executed one utilizing terrain and obvious military training. It was initiated with an IED strike on one of the rear-most vehicles which frankly scared the shit out of us. If you look at the projector screen we have photos and video taken by a predator that only we knew was overhead. Play please.
At this point just after the IED hit I took proper measures and pushed through the kill zone which was picked with perfection, though I don’t think they had intended to set up an ambush initially I think they just got lucky and heard the vehicles coming up and had enough time to prepare.
Rather than push through the FFACA commander ordered her fighters out of their vehicles. We normally initiate fire with one of our guns but the group decided to eliminate the heavy weapon at the lead of the column. It didn’t take much time for them to destroy the bulk of the FFACA. They utilized a homemade explosive for the IED, an older MG with full auto capability… sir it sounded like it had a rate of fire like an M60 but I don’t think it was. Additionally, they used mostly AR-15s plus some heavier caliber rifles. It can be assumed they now have an M240 Bravo, plus any other arms and munitions they FFACA had.”
“You said it was assumed Jim McCoy was the leader, indicating he wasn’t?”
“Correct Colonel, it appears they are led by one of the elders, a Vietnam veteran. Our guys are trying to gather intel on him as we speak. Three of them came down to speak with us. After getting a feel for them it is SSgt Chen and I’s shared belief that this is a group we should support.”
LT Colonel Fisher spoke up. “What about the reports of the executions?”
“All bullshit Ma’am. After the main attack they sent down a squad to check for survivors, the counter attack by the FFACA included at least 6 men and it got down to hand to hand combat. A mix of them being experienced fighters and the FFACA being very green made it a short and ugly fight. Nobody was left to surrender or be executed. Basically, this group wants to be left alone, but will defend themselves with extreme prejudice if they need to.”
“And our package?”
“Sir after our face to face with their lead trio SSgt Chen and I decided to give them the care package. The tracker is still in place and currently giving their location. They’ve stopped for the night in a state forest/ridge. I expect they’ll settle in there. It’s a great spot defensively with both cover, concealment and clean running water but I don’t know how the hell they are going to feed themselves.”
General Moore leaned back and crossed his hands on his lap, he had already gone through this with the two men but everyone else needed to hear the debriefing too. “What is your personal assessment of their combat capability?”
“They are a force to be reckoned with Sir, but they appear to be wearing multiple different uniforms. I saw MARPAT, Multicam, old BDUs and a few others. They set off the ambush and conducted it like the Army would, but they also we highly aggressive in ways typical of the Marines. I don’t think we would have set out a squad to sweep that early, nor would we have them move as fast as they did. Additionally, the use of the IED points to at least one EOD or Engineer in the group. With support and training I think we could use them.” “Thankyou. Captain Nieves, your men here did a great job. What is your assessment?”
“Sir we are Special Forces, training groups to fight and conduct war is what we do. I think there is room for improvement with them, but that comes with material and munitions they simply don’t have. IF they are wanting our help, and IF they have any intent to fight the war they don’t know is coming, they absolutely will benefit from us and us from them. They could secure that pass easily and protect one of our flanks.”
“Good to know. What would you supply them with?”
“Proper uniforms, Comms, food for starters. I think they’ll need food.”
General Moore cleared his throat. “Thankyou. This is where you two come into play.” He pointed to Colonel Eberhart and then Lt Colonel Fisher. “Your riggers will prepare an airdrop mission that includes food and supplies. We have a Satellite phone so we can give them a heads up, this drop will occur during the evacuation of the bases so we don’t send an obvious delivery to the location of a group the governor wants eradicated. Fisher I know you guys are way down on manpower, has that been solved by the gates being opened and will it be enough personnel to accomplish your mission?”
“Sir we are at 98% accountability. We lost three of our airmen and an NCO in separate shootouts with the gun confiscation groups. As for manpower Sir, we will need bodies to load the planes. If I can get help with load teams to push pallets and throw chains onto the 17’s it’ll make us a hell of a lot more effective.”
“You’ll get em, I have thousands of soldiers who can help.”
“Perfect Sir.”
“Anything else?”
Colonel Eberhart spoke. “Sir, for the record my Rangers are already pissed off. You’ve got the base’s support for sure.”
“Alright. Let’s get out of here, don’t worry about calling the room Marshawn.”
“Sir you take my fun away.”
Everyone chuckled as they rose from their seats, minds filled with what lay ahead. They too, had oaths to fulfill.
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