On Distant Shores (Exiles Triology Book 1) Page 3

Rob nodded, “Jo is a lovely woman.”

  Mike smiled, “I’ll shoot you in the dick if you come around my house.”

  Rob shook his head, a hurt look on his face, “No, no it is not like that. Besides, Jo would shoot me in the dick if I came ‘round your house, and she would have a shotgun.”

  MSG Calhoun said, “And she’s a better shot than Mike.”

  Mike took offence, “Hey!That is just not a nice thing to say.”

  Rob replied, “Mike, everybody on the team is a better shot than you.”

  “That’s not a bad place to be though. The team is a highly trained, cohesive, killing machine. Civilians are not better shots than me. I’m pretty damn deadly on the range.” Mike retorted.

  MSG Calhoun just shook his head, “What about the civilian target in the tire house?”

  “One, just one, in three years on the team. Besides, she had shifty eyes. I think that she was a collaborator.”

  They walked to a non-descript building, one that didn’t stand out from any of the other buildings in the area, two stories high, standard brick military construction. The only difference was the chain link fence with the razor wire on the top. There was a sign stating that the building was a secure area, and that deadly force was authorized. There didn’t seem to be any security, until they stepped through the door. Behind the door was a window with thick plexi-glass and a revolving plexi-glass door. There was no way in unless you presented your ID to the security guards behind the counter.

  They showed their IDs, and were buzzed in. Individually, they stepped through the revolving security gate. They started walking down the hallway towards the team room.

  The ground floor was filled with the offices of the headquarters staff. TheFlight Commander, LTC Bretscif, and his staff were at the front of the building. Normally, in a special operations unit this size, a company size element, there would be a Major as the Flight Commander. Since they were not located close to headquarters at Fort Bragg, in North Carolina, it was deemed to be a good idea that the commander was a Lieutenant Colonelto deal with other officers on Fort Carson.

  The individual team offices were at the back of the first floor. Communications, Personnel, and Intel were on the second floor. There was another floor, a basement, which had storage for all of the teams. This was also where supply worked. Extra equipment for operations was kept there, as well as equipment that was used to replace combat and field loss items. There was a small gym. The armory, for the storage of weapons and munitions was there. There was also a small shooting range for the armorers and gunsmiths, well ventilated, so that they could tune up the weapons for the operators.

  “But Chief, that is the only one in the past five years that has been shot,” Everett replied. “No other team has killed a civilian target.”

  Rob was enjoying the fact that the pressure was off of him. It didn’t matter that Mike shot consistently high scores on the range, or in the tire house. What did matter was that his stray bullet creased the head of one of the civilian targets in the tire house. Because of that, until somebody else did it, or worse, shot one of the civilian targets between the eyes, Mike would be labeled as the guy who shot civilians. Of course everybody knew that it was B.S., but they all enjoyed watching Mike squirm.

  “That’s it, we’re going to the range today. Pistols, and the loser buys the beer after work,” Mike threw down the gauntlet.

  The guys nodded and said hello to various people they knew as they walked. They arrived at the secure door of the team room, punched in the combination, and walked in. The team room was comprised of five rooms. A main room with a few chairs and couches for the team to sit in, with a TV and a regular size refrigerator. There was a smaller room with lockers for all of the team. There was an office for the team leader, Captain Bostak, and Mike, the team Executive Officer, or XO. Everett, as the team sergeant, had his own office with two extra desks in the room so that the rest of the team could come in, sit down, and catch up on email and the Intel packets that the Intel section sent out. There was a larger room with equipment lockers for team equipment. The guns and munitions were kept down in the basement in the locked cage area, in a large safe. Normally, in a conventional unit, there was no way that munitions would be held on site. This organization had to be able to stand up for operations within twelve hours. They had special dispensation to keep munitions on site.

  SFC D’Inazio and SSG Thomas Milkin were in the team room. Tom was one of the snipers and weapons specialists for the team. He was skinny compared to the rest of the team, as tall as Mike, curly blond hair. He was murder with a long gun. He was famous for the long distances that he could reach out and touch someone with a rifle, either the Barrett .50 caliber, or the Desert Tactical SRS .338 Lapua.

  The rest of the team was still on leave. The team was comprised of twelve team members. The Team Commander, the XO, and the Team Sergeant comprised the command element. The enlisted positions were two weapons specialists, two explosives specialists, two communications specialists, two medics, and one Intel specialist. MSG Calhoun grew up in Special Forces as a weapons specialist, and was trained in an additional military specialty as an explosives expert. Everybody was crossed trained in each other’s specialties.

  Currently, this team was on Red Status. The teams, six of them on Fort Carson, operated in Red, Amber, and Green. Red was down time, used for leave, medical and dental appointments, paperwork. It was also used for maintenance on all weapons, electronics, and equipment. Med bags and go bags were restocked to ensure that the team was mission capable. It also ensured that the teams got to spend time with their families. Amber was for training status, and green was when the team was actually out doing missions. Amber and Green sometimes blurred together, depending on what the operational requirements were. Command tried to keep the Red down time sacrosanct, but it didn’t always happen.

  Special Operations had the highest divorce rate in the military, especially after 9/11. It was unfortunate that many families couldn’t cope with the sacrifices made by the men and women in Spec Ops. Mike prayed every day that he and Jo would be the statistical error that crept by, that they would be the family that made it. He prayed every day that he and Jo would grow old together, watch their children grow up and have kids of their own. He knew that the odds were against them, though.

  “Hey, we’re going to the gun range. Pistols, and the low score buys,” Rob announced to Mickey and Tom.

  Tom turned to Mike, “He still gets you going about that accidental head shot, doesn’t he?”

  Mickey, knowing this joke from long experience, joined in. “Look, I agree with Mike, I think she was a collaborator. She had that look on her face. Besides, it was a graze. She would have lived.”

  Mike nodded, “Exactly what I was saying. She was a collaborator. Plus, after she was grazed by the top operators in the world, she would have repented her dirty collaborator ways, and gotten out of the business.”

  Everett stepped in, “What business is that?”

  A chorus of voices replied, “The bad guy business.” “The long dirt nap business.” “The ‘becoming room temperature’ business.”

  Mickey chimed in, “The ‘oh shit, Mike shot me’ business.”

  Mike replied, “Screw you guys.”

  That brought out the grins on everybody’s faces. Mike flipped the bird, turned and went into his office. He sat down, entered his login and password, and waited for the machine to go through the login procedures.

  Mike started going through the emails, piled up in his in-box. There were the usual Intel dumps. There were emails from S1, personnel, and a few from S4, logistics. He had an email from Major Salk, the squadron executive officer. He read the email, sighed, stood up and walked into the team room.

  Mickey looked up as Mike walked across the room. Mickey was sitting at a table with open boxes that contained medical supplies. There were three medic bags next to the table, in line for inspection, and one on the table with its supplies laid out. The oth
er three team members were in Everett’s office on the computers.

  “What’s up?” Mickey asked, as Mike walked by.

  “I have to go talk to the XO.”

  Mickey nodded and kept inventorying the medical bag that he was digging through. Every now and then he would pull some medical supplies from one of the boxes on the table in front of him, and add it to the bag, until he was satisfied that all of the supplies that were on the printed inventory were, in fact, in the bag.

  Mike walked out of the team room into the hallway. People were walking through the hallways, some on personal missions, some with supplies, some just talking or joking as they walked. Someone mentioned North Korea.

  “That was someone else’s problem,”he thought. His team operated in South and Central America. They all spoke fluent Spanish, with the help of Rob, who grilled them constantly to ensure that they could nominally blend in. Their Intel sergeant, Sergeant First Class Evans, spoke Arabic and Farsi as well. Their problem set dealt with the growing influence of Hezbollah in the tri-border region of Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay,the nexus of Iran working with Venezuela, and the possibility of missiles being moved from Iran to Venezuela.Now there was a growing possibility that ISIS might be working south of the border as well. This kept the team busy, and made life very interesting for them. The possibilities of Hezbollah working with the drug cartels in the Sonora and Chihuahua states was increasing their workload. It’s all fun and games until somebody slips Nuclear, Biological or Chemical supplies in across the southern border for attacks against a major metropolitan area in the United States.

  Mike walked to the Squadron command group. SSG Bob Cooper was there with a cast and sling on his arm. SSG Cooper was shot on mission two months back. He would have been back to work, but the bullet hit bone, and it was taking longer than he appreciated to get back to one hundred percent. His team had deployed on mission without him, and he was doing time in the command group until his arm was one hundred percent.

  “Hey Chief, how’s it going,” SSG Cooper asked.

  “Pretty good. How’s the arm feeling today,” Mike asked.

  “It’s doing okay. Hurts every now and again, but at least I’m vertical,” he replied.

  “You might want to think about dodging next time. Remember, the first action is, ‘Seek Cover.’”

  “Well Chief, this isn’t exactly dodge ball.”

  Mike smiled and said, “Well, if you can dodge a bullet, you can dodge a ball.”

  SSG Cooper shook his head, “you’re so lucky that you’re married, because most women can’t stand that level of geek.”

  Mike chuckled, “That’s nerd to you, brother.”

  “What are you here for, Chief?” SSG Cooper asked.

  “I got a message from the XO to see him. Is he in?” Mike asked.

  “Yeah, I think he’s still in. Let me check.”

  SSG Cooper walked back to the office. “Sir, Chief Duggins is here to see you.”

  Mike heard a muffled reply. SSG Cooper waved him back to the office. As he walked by he said, “Yeah, go on in Chief, he’s waiting for you.”

  Mike walked back to the XO’s office. It was filled with pictures of Major Salk’s family, and men that the Major had worked with throughout his career. There were small mementoes from the various parts of the world that he had worked in. There were a lot of challenge coins displayed on his desk as well. The Major was sitting, looking at paperwork on his desk. Evidently he was satisfied with what he saw. He put his signature on the paper and then set it aside.

  “Hey Mike, how’s it going?” Major Gary Salk waved Mike into the office and motioned to one of the chairs.

  “It’s going pretty good, Sir, how are you doing? How’s Rose doing?” Mike asked.

  “She’s doing fairly well. She took the news about her mom pretty hard. Judy was a young woman.” CPT Salk replied.

  Rose was Major Salk’s wife. Her mother passed away suddenly, and sheflew home two days ago. Major Salk was going to fly to Minnesota tomorrow to help his wife and her family. He had to wait three extra days because LTC Bretscif, the Squadron Commander, had been at a conference in Washington D.C., and was returning tomorrow.

  Rose called Jo when it happened, and Jo went over to talk to her. Judy was fifty-nine years old when she passed, and Rose had taken it pretty hard. Jo and Rose were really good friends, which ensured that Rose and Gary were often guests over at Mike’s house and Mike and Jo were often guests over at their house, despite the rank difference.

  “How’s Jo doing?” Major Salk asked.

  Mike nodded, “She’s doing great. The first trimester was rough, with the morning sickness, but she’s doing better now. We have the first ultra sound in two weeks.”

  Major Salk winced, then sighed, knowing that Mike would like what he was going to say, “I hate to tell you this, but you may not be there for the ultra sound. I hope the Geek Squad is good for a quick mission.”

  He used that nickname because of their special assignment. Mike’s team worked with the Western Zone Nuclear Emergency Support Teams. Technically, they were black ops for the Special Operations Command.His team, and this entire flight, had special skills, when compared to the other Spec Ops teams. Captain Bostak had a BS in Physics. SSG Torres had a BS in structural engineering, and was a member of Mensa. SSG Shawn Phillips, the other explosives expert on the team, had a BS in electronics. Mike had a Master’s degree in mathematics. Mickey had a BS in biochemistry. Most of the guys on the team scored extremely high on their Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery, or ASVAB. Their scores on the General Test grade were anywhere from 135 to 146, the highest you could get on the GT score. While they couldn’t design a nuclear bomb, they had a damn good chance of ensuring that it never went off.

  Mike’s face didn’t show any emotion at the pronouncement that he might not be there for the ultra sound, “We’re all doing pretty good. Everybody is itching to get back to work.”

  Major Salk nodded, “Well, I have a special assignment for your team until everybody gets back off of leave. You guys caught a, ‘hey you,’ assignment.”

  “What’s up?” Mike asked.

  “We have a special request that we think, well, know that only your team can fill.” Major Salk replied. “There is a special request that requires a Top Secret clearance, Department of Energy clearance, and an infantry background.”

  Mike’s face screwed up at requirements. He came from the infantry, and in fact, joined the infantry because his dad was infantry in Vietnam, his granddad was infantry in World War II and Korea, and he joined because he wanted to fulfill the tradition of his family. He had volunteered for infantry school, airborne school, and the Ranger indoctrination program, or RIP. He spent his first three years in Ranger Battalion, then went to the 82nd Infantry afterwards. But it was a strange request for a job that also included Top Secret and Department of Energy security clearances.

  “Your team will need to take everything that you would use on a five man team, to include small arms, sniper rifles, explosives, communications, and medical. You’ll also need to take additional ammunition for all weapons systems as normal. I’ll send down a list of the small arms and equipment that they were asking about. Once you get to your location, you’ll be read on to a special access program, and when you get back,” Major Salk was smiling at Mike’s growing consternation, “you’ll never tell anybody what you did.”

  Mike asked, “Is this some kind of special mission to kill somebody, or go deep cover and kill somebody.” Mike was stretching out his words, implying “was there something else he may need to know.”

  Major Salk enjoyed his confusion for a little while before letting him off the hook. “Well Mike, I can’t tell you everything, and, to be honest, I don’t know. I just know that you’re not deploying outside the United States, you’re to palletize all of your equipment. You’ll be flying by C-12 to Malmstrom Air Force Base. And, you’ll be gone a total of three weeks, flying to your destination on
Monday, and then flying back in time to start training with your team.”

  Mike waited to see if there was anything else, then shrugged, “Okay, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but mine is not to reason why . . .” He left the words hang. There was no reply.

  Major Salk sat back, and motioned with his hands, palms up. “I wish I could tell you more, but that is all I know. You’ll be fully briefed once you get to your destination.”

  Mike nodded, “March to the sound of the guns.”

  Major Salk agreed, “Exactly. I’ll email the particulars to you, so that your team can get the equipment palletized and ready to go. We have the orders from SOCOM, and I’ll include those as well on the email. Since you aren’t going outside the United States, you won’t need passports or any cover identities.”

  Major Salk leaned forward and held out his hand, signifying that the quick briefing was over. “I’m sorry about the ultra sound, but Jo should understand.”

  “Understand my ass,” Mike thought. Mike stood and gripped the outstretched hand. “Sir, please give Rose our best when you see her. Also, if you could get us the address to the funeral home, the team would like to send flowers. Jo and I would like to send flowers.”

  “Thanks, Mike, I’ll let her know that you and Jo were thinking about her. And, I’ll make sure that you get the address when I get there.”

  “If you need somebody to check on the house while you’re gone, Jo and I can stop by over the weekend,” Mike said.

  “No, that’s okay, we won’t be gone long. The funeral is this weekend, and we should be back home by next Tuesday, so I don’t see a problem with that. If we get stuck there, we may give Jo a call to go by.”

  “Alright, but if you need anything, just give a call,” Mike replied.

  “Thanks, Mike, I appreciate it.”

  Mike walked out of Major Salk’s office, and nodded at SSG Cooper as he left.

  “Remember, dodge, and seek cover. Then you return fire.” Mike put emphasis on dodge, cover, and then just to get one more dig at SSG Cooper.