Frank wondered for a moment exactly what “under consideration” meant but decided he would only get pissed if he knew.
“Roger that, Major. How high up does this go?” he asked.
The airplane shook with turbulence. Frank barely noticed anymore. At that moment, his focus was elsewhere.
There were men on the ground under fire, and his team could help. The men under his command would all want to provide that help, no matter what the personal risk. It seemed like the decision makers were either incapable of taking a risk, or perhaps even worse, incapable of making a decision.
There was a stockpile of material at risk that could cause the death of untold numbers of men, women and children at some unknown spot on the globe. The fear of this type of terrorist attack had been around for years, and it was thought that there were many groups that if they came to possess one of those devices would target the United States Homeland.
He didn’t understand why there was any delay in them getting into this fight. This theft had to be stopped. The world was a dangerous place. It would get a great deal more dangerous if this mission went badly.
“Captain, I think this one is coming straight from the White House,” answered the pilot.
Excellent, a politician is micromanaging the endeavor. To make it worse, a politician who was having multiple political problems and was known to allow politics to drive all of his decision making. Wonderful, just wonderful. He wondered how long until the focus group decided if the jump would be popular or not? That was assuming the night’s activity ever became public knowledge.
“Assuming they let us in there, how hot of a landing will we have?” Frank asked.
“Our equipment can’t get really good visuals, but even from this altitude we can see obvious explosive flashes. We think they have been using RPGs, but which side is using them we can’t be sure. Those ten alleged terrorists appear to be bunkered down pretty well, or there are more than ten of them. We do not know if the nuclear material has been compromised but they appear to be well equipped with enough firepower to either hold that position a very long time while they search for it, or shoot their way out if they already have it. That is assuming the situation on the ground doesn’t change,” the pilot said.
“Thank you, Major,” Frank answered.
The flight continued in relative silence for another twenty-five minutes. The plane would shake, the plane would rattle, but it continued to circle. There was nothing to worry about from an equipment standpoint; everyone had their equipment strapped on tight since before takeoff. Everyone was ready to go, no matter how rough the ride, no matter how long they were in the air, or how hot the landing, they would follow him out the door.
The young Captain couldn’t take it anymore. He unplugged his headset from the intercom system and made his way forward to the cockpit. Once there he heard the pilot arguing with whoever was on the other end of the radio to let the team go in. He heard the Major say that there had been no anti-aircraft fire and they could get the team on the ground without risk to the team while in the air, or to the aircraft and crew.
Finally the pilot noticed Frank, “Well Captain, it looks like someone back in the land believes we should be living a risk free life. Apparently you Green Berets are no longer allowed to get so much as a skinned knee.”
“I know you said the White House, but seriously, who is calling the shots? What kind of desk riding asshole are we dealing with?” Frank asked.
“Sir, as I have come to understand it, this one is coming straight from either the President or someone in the room with him,” answered the Major calmly.
“Well shit, let me revise my previous statement. I am sure that they know some vital piece of intelligence we don’t. Let’s follow orders gentlemen,” the men in the cockpit kept their bearing but all understood what he meant. They were just as tired of eternal political crap as all soldiers had become. Thiers was a life spent defending something. But, right now, there was someone wishing to do harm unto others, and they were in a position to stop it, yet someone was stopping them.
Without warning the radio came to life, the Major put a finger to his ear and turned to look at the cockpit visitor, “Looks like you and your men are finally going to get to go. Three minutes, to jump, get in position.”
Frank made his way to the back of the banking aircraft, “All right men. Get up, we have work to do!”
The men stood, their combat gear still strapped to them. They made their way to the back of the aircraft, stacked up in the right order, and silently waited for the door to open.
They waited, ten seconds, then another twenty seconds passed, and finally the door opened. They needed no prompting, no speeches, they poured out of the plane with Frank in the lead. Everyone had their tactical radios on and operating from the moment the order was given to stand.
Frank was glad that he had one of the new helmet visors equipped with a heads up display similar to what fighter pilots used. It showed the exact glide path to take during a jump, and gave some navigational assistance once on the ground. If enough situational awareness was known to the satellite and drone network feeding data to the thing it would even superimpose the locations of the enemy to make the job that much easier.
He watched the altimeter numbers rapidly decrease, 4000 feet; 3000 feet, pull the chord.
Frank felt his entire body jerk as the main chute opened. The decent was still rapid but not nearly as impactful as it would have been without it. With the new parachutes, and that new nav system he could hit the center of a landing zone every time.
The landing point was a short half a mile away from the firefight. Frank could judge from the sounds, someone was definitely shooting at someone else with large caliber weaponry. Soon they would be in a position to tell who was who and what weaponry they were really using. At their current distance it was still impossible to tell.
Two minutes later the entire team was on the ground, silent as ghosts, and the men assembled on Frank’s position.
“I will take point with Sergeant Fisher. We move in at best possible speed, find the internal security force, who should know we are on the way by now, if they are still alive, and move in. Do not wait, if you see a tango, eliminate that tango at best possible speed. If they have managed to get ahold of the material they came here for it will be in a heavily shielded containers. Hand grenades, and rounds from small arms are known to be unable to penetrate those containers. From this point forward unless absolutely necessary we will keep radio silence,” he said. There had been an intelligence leak that showed anyone with access to the Internet how to triangulate the US Military’s position with some simple electronic equipment lashed together in the right order. What they said would be scrambled, but giving away their position was not on Frank’s to do list.
As they approached the nuclear facility they finally got a better look at the firefight in progress. It was impossible to tell who was where at this point. Neither group appeared to have taken notice of them on their decent or approach. Frank quietly hoped the security team would realize they were here to help and not open fire on the team.
The facility was a nested series of buildings, each one increasingly more difficult to destroy than the last. However, the outer layer of defense was a simple chain link fence with a single strand of barbed wire at the top. That was the only bit of good news that could be seen.