Southern Africa

  Walvis Bay

  2093.07.01

  Alpha squad reached Walvis Bay, a dusty, small port town caught between desert and ocean. The town itself is flat and exposed. Low buildings, their paint faded by sandstorms. Sand piles up in doorways and along fences, as if the desert is patiently reclaiming everything. There are about twenty tents on the outskirts of the town. Tons of tanks, trucks, Chinooks, helicopters, and other military vehicles are everywhere, parked and being maintained by marines. This is where Lieutenant Colonel Jasper Mazigh II and Lieutenant General Jasper Mazigh III, two brothers who commanded the 93rd Emeka Regiment, three battalions of six thousand marines in total.

  In the distance, about 150 miles out behind the port town, was the front line. Of one of the battalions of the 93rd, Emeka was holding ground, trying to push the enemy back. They have been fighting for the past two weeks. They struggled; they had eight thousand men at the beginning. Losing two thousand to a bombing raid a week prior to Alpha Squad's arrival. LTC Mazigh II was a part of the Ecplise service tag 040. He was let in on the intel for the 17th Eclipse mission to take out a Super Factory. This is why he is here: to lead his Regiment to open a way to the Super Factory. Sighted deep in the old country of Uganda. M.O.H.’s plan is to shut down this factory, hoping it will shut down the machines in Africa; they believe it's a controller. Take the power out, and the domino effect happens; the machines go offline. This is all speculation, of course; no one knows truly how to shut them down, but they need to try. Their options are limited.

  SSG Calvin didn’t dock anywhere; it stood off the shores of the port town. The battle cruiser deployed three Assault Amphibious Vehicles (AAV), one of which held Alpha squad. They drove on the ocean water heading to shore, toward the deserted port town. When it reached the sands, the AAV switched to its land mode and drove. Manteo was in the passenger seat, looking out the window. Looking at all the worn-down buildings, some were blackened and destroyed by war.

  The AAV drove all the way up the shore and onto the street, then turned left toward the campsites of the 93rd Emeka. Manteo kept looking out, taking it all in. Bodies littered the streets—families, by the look of them. There were Marines too, limbs and body parts scattered and half-buried in the sand. A machine lay dead halfway through a house window, its metal frame twisted, wires and cables ripped from its core and spilling onto the ground like exposed organs. Two Marines lay beside it, close enough to tell the story without words—two men who had fought until there was nothing left in them, just to make sure that thing didn’t take another step.

  Manteo felt uneasy, not because it was new, but because it wasn’t. Every city and town greeted him the same way: dead people left behind to rot. The horrors left by the machines' gruesome attack. His family hadn’t been that lucky. They took them. His father—right there, right in front of him. No warning. No mercy. The sound of it still lived in his head. Pain spiked in his arm, sharp and insistent, dragging him back. Manteo looked away from the bodies. He tried to shove the images down before the memories took over.

  As they approached the outskirts of the town, the AAV drove off the street and back onto the sands. They have almost reached their destination. When they got closer to the tents, Manteo saw a tall, dark-skinned man, wearing a red cap tilted on the side of his head almost as if it was going to fall. He had short, grey hair with a buzz cut. His outfit was a ripped, torn, tanned suit, with medals and valor on the right side of his chest. When they came to a complete stop, a few marines approached the AAV and opened the doors. Manteo saw this as a signal to get out. So Alpha Squad exited the AAV, grabbed their gear and bags. Then the dark-skinned man approached them. Manteo can see his hat much more clearly; it has a symbol on the front. An eclipse with eight gold stars circling the sphere. Manteo knew this insignia, the Eclpise Special Forces insignia. Only the high-ranking officials can wear the symbol. He looked slightly more down, saw his ranking badge and name patch reading "Lieutenant Colonel Mazigh," and felt a twinge of regret. He ’. He ’. He quickly straightened up his posture and put his hand in a slute pose. So did the rest of Alpha Squad.

  “At ease. No need for this here,” said LTC Mazigh, in a deep southen african accent, with a big smile. Manteo lowered his hand. “Ah! David! It’s so good to see you, brotha.” Mazigh walked to Captain Bailey shacking his hand.

  “Jasper! I didn’t think we would be meeting you here.” David, shaking hands with Mazigh, had a big smile.

  “So, so good to see you. This is your platoon, Captain?” Mazigh, scanning Alpha Squad, stopping at Manteo. Giving him a little longer look and meeting David’s eyes afterward.

  “No, this is half of them. We are Alpha Squad, the rest are Omgea Squad, and they are heading over to Madagascar. General Troyer is with them. We can reach them by comms if needed.” David let go of the handshake.

  “That old man. Still fighting. Thought he would retire.” Mazigh chuclked. “How’s Henry doing, good, I hope?”

  “Yes, good.”

  “Good. Come along then, brothas. We have much to discuss.” Mazigh turned around, motioning for the squad to follow him.

  Manteo grabbed his bag and strapped it on his back, and held his M4 Carbine. And began to follow the Colonel. He was surprised Captain Bailey knew this man; he wondered what their history was. Not only that, but how did Captain Bailey seem to be friends with such a high-ranking official in the Ecplsie? Manteo only ever met one: General Frank Waters, Ecplise zero-two-three. He was part of the first platoons formed during the creation of the Eclipse. He tried to be buddies with him, but got the boot.

  Alpha squad continued following Mazigh, passing by resting marines, the med bays, and then by the armory, until they reached a tent that was larger than the rest. Two men stood at the opening to the inside, guards by the look on their faces. Mazigh stopped at the opening, moved to the side, and waved his arm.

  “After you,” he smiled.

  So they walked into the tent, and tables and stools stood in the middle. In the back was a very large whiteboard with a map. Manteo assumed it was the area's geography. In the right corner was a table with a computer-aided transcription system. Where a marine sat with headphones and a microphone, touching the dials. Alpha squad stood by one of the tables, and Mazigh walked in, heading toward the back.

  “Take a seat, rest, we have a long day ahead of us,” Mazigh said.

  Manteo and everyone else sat at tables and stools near Mazigh.

  “So much has happened here. I’m not sure where to begin.” Mazigh puckered his lips, thinking. “Second Battalion is here, one hundred miles east.” He points to the map on the whiteboard. “First Battalion is here, spread out over five miles south-east, they are joined up with 103rd Emeka Regiment commanded by General Min Yang. They have pushed back the southern parts very well. Us, on the other hand, we struggle,” he turned to look at Alpha squad.

  “What seems to be the problem, General?” David asked, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

  “Since the 103rd Regiment is pushing the enemy back. They are fortifying our battle line and strengthening their defenses. I’ve lost many men today Captian. A lot…” he paused, sighed, and continued. “We lack air supoort Captian, and from the report from M.O.H., you have two pilots with you, correct?” He looked at David.

  “Yes, Fletcher Adams, and Jin Sage,” he turned to his left and pointed to them. “Helluva pilots they are. You’d be pleased.” David looked back at Mazigh with a smirk.

  “Great to hear, brotha, tomorrow you all set for war. I am sending reinforcements; your two pilots can take one of our helicopters and provide air support. From there, you may have free will to complete your mission.” With great relief, Mazigh walked to David and patted him on his shoulder.

  “General. Do you have an APC we can use?” David stood up.

  “Mm, I do yes, but it's our last one, Captain.” Mazigh seems to hesitate before his next words. “But you may have it, Captain, better use for you than us. We, Ecplise, are humanity's greatest hope left,” he gave a chuckle.

  “Thanks, General,” he patted Mazigh's back.

  “There’s a tent for you all, I will have an escort to show you the way,” he excitedly motioned a amrine staying by the opening of the tent. “He can show you the way. Thank you, Max,” he gestured a little nod to the marine Max.

  Alpha squad gathered things once again and headed out of the tent following Max. But Captain David stayed behind. Manteo wasn't sure why, but he just kept walking and left. It was getting dark, and the heat of the day was beginning to cool. Manteo’s anxiety was trying to flood back in. He was thinking of what tomorrow would bring. He’s got to keep it together, or an episode might happen. He doesn’t want to be responsible for the deaths of his squad or, worse, the Emeka Regiment. His arm began to throb again, he tried to hide the pain from Jin and Fletcher, not bringing attentionto self. Especially from Fletcher because he would end up telling a joke and making Manteo angry. He was thinking of Malery, wishing she were here to help with the pain. She was far away in Madicager. Jin noticed him; his face was clenched. Jin gave a little throe from his shoulder.

  “Hey, you alright, man?” Jin asked Manteo as they continued walking.

  “I’m fine, Sage. Don’t want to walk about it.” Manteo snarled back.

  “Okay, okay, just trying to help.”

  “Just keep that one off my back.” Manteo used his head to point at Fletcher, who was talking to Max.

  “Yeah, I can do that. Just know I’m here for you, man. Anything, I’m here, we are a team.” Even though he isn't very sentimental, he was able to at least cheer up Manteo for a while.

  Mante sighed and took a deep breath.

  “We are here,” said Max.

  Manteo was relieved; he just wanted to lie down and try to relax his mind. Fletcher walked in and called the co next to the window. Jin dropped his stuff at the cot on the opposite side of Fletcher. Manteo thought it would be best to claim the one next to Jin. He placed his bag down and laid his gun on the cot beside him. HE sat down on the edge of his cot. Then slid into the cot to lie down. He stared at the ceiling. He has never felt this uneasy on a mission before; it's like an omen telling him something bad is going to happen. He should denied the General's decision to keep him in the platoon. Maybe the Elites were right; he is unstable and a liability. ‘Dad, I’m sorry,’ he thought to himself. His eyes became heavy with sleep. He got under the covers and closed his eyes. Hoping tomorrow will just be another day at war, and it goes smoothly.

  Back at the command tent, Captain David and LTC Mazigh caught upwith each other. Wondering how each other has been doing. Mazigh brought out a bottle of whiskey and two small glasses. Pour the whiskey into both and hand it to David.

  “David. How’s your boy? He’s not a troublemaker, is he still? Mazigh tooka sip of whiskey.

  “He’s very good, actually. He joined up with the Seoba Regiment. Two years ago.”

  “Wow! Really! They are hard to get into hw did he do it? Mazigh smiled really big.

  David finished his glass and poured himself another. “One of the commanding officers saw him fight three guys at once; he was fighting over some stupid bet. But the Offeria was so amazed he asked him to join his battalion, saying, ‘You are an example of Seoba, strong and powerful,’ something like that. The guy seems mad. There's no way that's how they chose their men. But hey, after a month in, my boy was a changed man.” David finished his second glass.

  “Ah! So wonderful, brotha, proud of you.” he smiled at David, and he finished his glass next. He poured another and poured it into David's glass as well.

  “How are your brothers?” David is smiling, getting a little buzz.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Mazigh's facial expression changed, dropping down with disgust. “Jax is…commanding the 2nd battalion out there fighting. He never sleeps or eats, that man. I scold all the time, ‘You better care for yourself, Jax, or these men won't have a leader to follow.’ He never listens.” Mazigh shook his head.

  “And Little Jasper?” David saw the life in Mazigh leave.

  “He…passed on, brotha.” taking his full glass at once.

  “What! Not little Jasper.” David braced both of his hands to his mouth like a prayer. “What happened if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “It was last week,” Mazigh sniffled. “Jasper was trying to retrieve a group of marines captured by the machines. He saved them all, but he didn’t return. The men said he was stabbed by an arm of the machine.” Mazigh looked down into his glass, a tear streaming down his face.

  “My goodness. I’m sorry. Damn.” David was shocked. But couldn't help but notice something Mazigh said.

  “Jasper? Did you say captured marines?” he was perplexed. “Are you telling me the junkies are taking people captive?”

  “I was surprised as you are. The elites and I know about this.” Mazigh, taking another shot of whiskey. “Little Jasper, his helmet was recording. It was received later after the captured Marines returned.” He grabbed a tablet from his side and placed it on the table, and hit play. David looked and watched intently.

  The video played, showing the point of view of Jasper Mazigh IV. He was aiming his M4 Carbine, swaying left to right, watching his corners. He was standing in a dark, old factory of some sort.

  “Lights on, brotha,” he said. Multiple flashlights illuminated the area; his gun’s flashlight turned on. Two marines appeared from his left, in dark black attire and black helmets, with a wolf insignia.

  “Sir, this way. They might be over here.” Jasper’s helmet turned to the marines and walked, still scanning the area slowly. A loud clank was heard, and all the marines looked toward where it was possible to come from.

  “What was that?” said one of them.

  “Keep moving, brotha’s no time to stop,” Jasper said. The two Marines came to a double door in a pitch-black hallway. Jasper’s hand came into view, signaling the men to move through the doors. They opened it slowly, peaking through with their guns. Jasper, move slowly and quietly behind the Marines.

  “Clear,” whispered the marine who walked into the room.

  Jasper stood between the Mariens, all of them scanning the room. It seemed to be a packing station area, with cardboard boxes and plastic wrap littered on the floor. pallets stacked on one another, some full to the top of the boxes. A bang and creaking sound above appeared. Startling Jasper, the flashlight was shining on the ceiling.

  “Let's keep going, brotha’s. I sense we are close.” Jasper walked forward. They walked down to the end of the room, to another door. “Open it,” Jasper said. The marine opened the door slowly, peaking with his gun.

  “Sir! Quickly.”

  Jasper walked quickly to the inn and scanned the room with this gun flashlight, and five marines tied by the feet and hands lay on the floor. The one Jasper was looking at lifted himself by his elbow, and a surprise looked on his face, then terror.

  “No, no, you can’t be here. It's in this room,” said the marine.

  “Don’t worry, we are here, brotha, you are safe now,” Jasper reassured the marine, but the marine wouldn't believe him.

  “No! Get out, it’s going to kill you.” “What are you on about solider?” Jsper was cutting the zip ties on the marine’s ankles. A loud scream came out of nowhere like nails on a chalkboard, followed by a deep wobble.

  “Its HERE!” yelled the marine.

  Jasper quickly pointed his gun in the direction from which the noise came. There was nothing. He kept staring, his flashlight unable to make the end of the room visible.

  “Sir, they are all untied.”

  “Move them out now.” Replied Jasper, still staring down the room. Nothing was happening, just silence. The room grew darker, and the tow marine exited.

  “Sir, we've got to go. Now.”

  In the corner, a tall shadow appeared. Jasper, staring with his gun, saw two red dots at the top of the shadow. The next second, the shadow came quickly, running at Jasper. He immediately started shooting his gun, the gunfire echoing in the room. The shadow was one foot away, and then a burr, barely seen in the low lighting. Jasper was gurgling, coughing. He dropped his gun, and the flashlight illuminated only the floor, where it bounced upward. Jasper looked down, and there was a black, rod-shaped object with a piston-like feature around it. The rod impaled him, blood slowly spilling. He looked up to see what it was as his helmet cam slowly moved up. The body of a machine came into view, almost humanoid, when he reached the face. He saw two very bright red lights. Then he was slammed to the floor. The recording ended.

  David fell back in his seat, terrified almost by what he watched. He placed his hand on his mouth, trying to understand the meaning of the recording. Mazigh grabbed the talet back and stowed it away. Looked at David, with a few tears streaming down his face.

  “This is how Little Jasper died.” Mazigh leaned forward, “That thing, whatever that machine is…it’s not like the assault units, or heavy ones….this one is something else.” jamming his finger into the table gently.

  “Still doens’t explain the tied up marines. Are the junies taking hosaete now? Are they trying to ransom with us?” David paused, leaning his head back, looking up. “I don’t like this one bit.”

  “Me too, brotha. M.O.H. believes we have traitors among us.” Mazigh said, his right hand lying flat on the table. So enraged, his eyes turned red, and his cheeks puffed up. “If…we have traitors… how could they…how could they side with those killers?” balled his hand in a fist and slammed it on the table. “Captain, you find these troliet or whatever the manicne are up to, and bring an end to it. I know that’s not your directive, but you must. No one knows about this,” he leaned back in his chair, calmed himself. “M.O.H. had the Marines taken for debriefing. They don’t want this spilling out to the public. When you join the front, track down these traitors, kill them all.”

  “Jasper. What is there to go off of? And my squad, what do I tell them?”

  “Captain. Just do it, it’s an order. As for your squad, they don’t need to know.” Mazigh gave a stern look.

  “Yes, Colonel. As you command.” David was confused by Mazigh's sudden change in mood; he started acting like his superior, which frightened him a bit. It might have been the alcohol, or watching the death of his brother again. Either way, David saw this as a hint to probably leave Mazigh alone for the rest of the night. “I’m going to get some shut-eye, General. It was good to catch up again. See you in the morning,” he got out of his chair and walked to the door.

  “Ah, yeah… me too, brotha,” Mazigh replied slowly, his voice heavy with depression. “Go, rest…we have a long day tomorrow,” he poured another glass of whiskey.

  David looked back wathcing Mazigh drown in sorrow and despair. Took a small sigh and exited the tent.

  Manteo awoke from his sleep, in a cold sweat gaspign for air. He had another nightmare again, the same one as always, his family’s death. He looked to his left, and Fletcher was staring at him with disappointment. Mantoe hoped he didn’t say a word to him, but that hope quickly faded. Feltcher walked toward his cot in a quick manner.

  “Manteo, I swear, if you get us killed today, I'll make you miserable in hell.” Fletcher is hovering over, pointing his finger.

  “Yeah, whatever, I like to see you try.” Manteo moved up closer to Fletcher’s finger, looking into his eyes.

  “You litte-”

  “HEY!” David shouted right when Fletcher raised his hand in a fist, “Don’t you two even start, we have a long day ahead of us. I don’t need you both carried out in a gurney.” David stepped between them. “Adams, finish getting ready. Ramirez, hurry up, we are about to leave.” left the feud between the two, sighing.

  Manteo was on his feet in seconds. He rushed to his bag and began gearing up, black combat pants first, then the matching shirt. He pulled on his Kevlar vest, followed by a lighter outer vest fitted with magazine pouches. He slid a balaclava over his face, set his black helmet in place, and clamped the headset snug against his ears. Last came the black combat boots, laced tight. His gear matched the rest of the squad—everyone except David, whose red armband marked him out as leader. Finished, Manteo moved to the lockers at the back of the room and retrieved his weapons. A pistol went into the holster strapped to his right thigh. He slung his M4 carbine across his chest, pulled the strap tight, and shut the locker door with a solid clang. Ann Jin was standing there, wearing his pilot helmet. Manteo couldn’t see his face, just the pitch back visor and his reflection.

  “Good luck out there, Rmairez. I’ll set Fletcher in his place. I know we can count on you, Flecter needs to remember that. I forgive you, man, and he needs to as well.” Jin said his voice was muffled by his helmet.

  “Yeah. Thanks, Sage.” Manteo sighed, “Just make sure he doesn’t ‘pretend’ to kill me when you're up in the air.” he looked down.

  “Ay, chin up, man. There is no time for moping. You're a marine for goodness sake.” Jin punched Manteo’s shoulder lightly. “If General were here, he would be chewing you out right now, making you feel worse. These soldiers' lives depend on it. We are the Eclpise, humanity's last hope. Remember that. When our job is done, we can mope, cry, or whatever, man. Just not now,” he then grabbed his shoulder for a brief second.

  Manteo never heard words like that ever come out of Jin’s mouth. He is right, he thought to himself. Has he lost the connection to who he was? A Marine of the elite Special Forces. He was hand-picked, chosen for a duty higher than anyone in the military. He felt gloomy now; he’s already letting down his team, it seems. Doubt rushed into him, not sure if he can scarf it down and forget, by looking at Jin. Manteo took a deep breath, told Jin thanks, and headed outside with the rest of Alpha squad.

  Alpha squad walked out of their tent, greeted by Max. Max told them to follow, so Alpha Squad followed. They walked about a mile before reaching LTC Mazigh. He had a fierce look in his eyes, looking at everyone as they approached him. Manteo’s anxiety was crawling in again. A group of men jogged past.

  “Brothas, bad news. The machines are pushing the 2nd Battalion back. So we move now. And quick, I don’t think my brother can hold them much longer.” Mazigh said. “Max. Take them to their Chinook, and Alpche,” he slatue to Alpha squad and walked away.

  “Right this way, fellas,” Max motioned.

  Alpha squad reached the heliport, full of Chinooks and Apaches. Several of the Chinooks had marines boarding them; it is a massive tandem-rotor transport helicopter instantly recognizable by its long, cylindrical fuselage and dual rotors. Its body is wide and squat, built to carry heavy cargo, vehicles, and large numbers of troops. The nose is rounded and blunt, housing avionics and the cockpit, which features wide, slightly angled windows giving the pilots excellent forward visibility.

  Two sets of three-bladed rotors at the top, one at the front and one at the rear, are mounted on tall pylons. A tapering tail boom extends beyond the rear rotor, and a clamshell-style rear ramp allows vehicles, equipment, or soldiers to be loaded directly into the cavernous fuselage. Max showed the Chinook Alpha squad would use. The pilots were standing right at the end of the open hatch door, their arms behind their backs.

  “These are your pilots, Captain. As for you, Adams and Sage, your ride is right there.” Max pointed to a sleek twin-engine attack helicopter. Its fuselage is narrow and angular, armored with flat, reinforced panels that give it a stealthy, predatory look. The cockpit is tandem-style, under a sharply angled, bullet-resistant canopy made of tinted glass. Above, a four-blade main rotor dominates the top, spinning from a central mast, while a smaller four-blade tail rotor sits at the end of a tapered tail boom. Mounted under the stub wings on either side of the fuselage are weapon pylons. These typically hold missiles in clusters, seventy rockets in launch pods. A chin-mounted 30mm chain gun sits beneath the nose, its barrel capable of rotating and elevating independently to track targets.

  Jin was amazed by the Apache, walked up to it, and touched and rubbed his hand as if it were a puppy. “Oh, my gosh. Man, how did you all get a hold of so many of these?” he was now touching the chain gun.

  “That is a secret.” Max smirked, “Well, this is when I take my leave. Good luck to you all.” Max saluted and left the area.

  “Alright, guys, check your comms.” David instsied.

  “Alpha two test,” Fletcher turned on his headset and spoke into the mic.

  “Alpha 1 test” David responded.

  “All good,” Jin responded.

  “Good,” Manteo responded.

  “Good. Adams, Sage, warm your bird. Ramirez, with me. We have to wait. Colonel Mazigh is sending a platoon to join us. They should be here any minute now.” David said.

  Captain David and Manteo walked toward the ramp of the Chinook. The two pilots who waited at the end of the ramp walked up the ramp, and David and Manteo followed them from back to front. He picked a seat by a window at the back of the bay. The pilots entered the cock pit at the same time. Manteo sat down and fastened himself in the seat with his gun resting on his lap. David sat across from him, speaking to someone on comm. Manteo wasn't sure who, as the Captain wasn’t speaking on the Alpha squad channel. Manteo looked out the hatch door and saw a group of Marines that the platoon's Colonel had sent their way. All of them were wearing olive-green camouflage combat outfits. One by one, they walked in, seating themselves, filling the entire cargo bay, knee to knee. Manteo had to shift himself to the left more, to let the marine who sat next to him, a big beefy man, with a dark brown full beard, who was wearing sunglasses. He looked at Manteo and offered a stick of gum. Manteo refused the gum; the guy grunted back.

  “It will help. I chew about two at once.” The big man said. Manteo looked at the package they came in, which said NIC-Chew 15mg of nicotine. Manteo was glad he refused. He’s never had nicotine or cigarettes ever, and he did not want to ever try. The big, beefy man started to offer the gum to other marines. Some acceppted others did not.

  The engines of the Chinnoks rumbled in the cargo bay. The pilots turned on the red light in the cargo area, signaling the start of takeoff. The hatch door began to close, and the sound of the propellers slowly diminished as it sealed. Manteo gripped his gun tightly, lay his head back, and closed his eyes.

  “Scared of flying?” The big, beefy man said, chewing his gum.

  “No,” Manteo responded, not opening his eyes.

  “Got a name?” looking at Manteo for a name tag.

  “Ramirez.” Manteo was getting a little nauseous. He opened one eye and looked at the beefy man for a name; when he did, it said Sgt Smith.

  “Nice to meet yah Rmairez. I’m Sergeant Smith. This is my Platoon. This is my first time working with the Ecplise.” Smith took his right over to Manteo, able to reach because of his large, muscular chest.

  “Yeah, nice to meet you. Sergeant.” Manteo opened his eyes, loosened his grip on his gun, and shook Smith’s hand.

  The Chinook began to ascend; the lift shook the cargo bay a little. Manteo went back to closing his eyes. He wasn’t scared to fly at all, but it was just his stomach turning knots. And he was worrying too much about what was to come. He tried to get his mind off it by thinking about Carl. He wished he were here to fight by his side. He hopes his recovery goes well, and he can return with full strength. Not only that, but he and David are down one man. So their mission will be harder to perform. Right when he thought of this, his anxiety shot right back up. He gripped his gun tight, David noticed. David kicked Manteo.

  “Ow. The hell, man?” Manteo looked at David with anger.

  “Keep it together, Ramirez, remember what I told you. I will not hesitate.” David’s forehead creased looking at Manteo.

  “I know, Captain. I’m good, don’t worry.”

  The Chinook was now twenty thousand feet above ground. It headed toward the other group of Chinnooks, bound for the war zone. The Apache helicopter Flether and Jin piloted stayed behind the Chinook Mantoewas in. In sequence, all the air units were now in the air, heading to the war zone. The propples of them all deafening the area below with a deep tump-thump-thumps.