Part 1 – The Mission
2024, Kandahar Airfield, Hanger 19…
Marine Corps Special Operations Command (MARSOC) Raider Unit 519 otherwise known as the Hawks were playing basketball in the courtyard.
Wearing their ACU Sand-Brown tee shirts, TRU-SPEC ACU waterproof ECWCS pants, and Sierra Sole ACU Desert Tan Boots they were very quick to try and avoid each other.
Their CO, Major Griffith 'White Hawk' McCredie, the team's five-foot-ten silver-haired leader who you'd trust with your own sister quickly passed the ball to his team-mate for the match the team's combat medic, Corporal Judeau 'Joker' Able, the five-foot-nine blonde-haired boy from Brooklyn who passed up a scholarship at Columbia University to go straight into the Marine Corps to go into their medical program.
Judeau caught the ball, and bounced it once only to run head-first into Master Sergeant Pippin 'Bodyguard' Barber, the team's six-foot-three dark-haired communication's officer who was a walking wall of muscle who the team had seen take down an Asiatic Black Bear with his twelve-inch bowie knife and .44 Magnum Desert Eagle when it attacked them during extraction.
Judeau flopped backward onto the court as Pippin caught the ball as it bounced, he then bounced it off the ground, passing it towards Captain Guts 'Desert Eagle' McNeal, the team's six-foot-one brown-haired sniper and Second Officer who the team had seen score a 457-meter headshot from a moving helicopter.
Guts caught the ball as it came his way, and tossed it through the hoop, "Yea boy," he said as he walked up to his large team-mate, swung under his hand as he held it up, and slapped it as Pippin held his hand down.
"Nice one," Judeau said as he sat up, and rubbed the back of his head, "It was a good move having a walking wall on your team."
"Don't be a hater," Guts said as he and Pippin held out their hands to Judeau, and helped him stand upright.
"I'm with Guts," Griffith said, "We lost fair and square."
"Come on boss," Judeau said, "These guys are walking skyscrapers compared to us."
"That's what we need," Griffith said, "We need walking skyscrapers," he then reached up to wipe the sweat away from his brow, "Come on, let's get out of this heat."
"I'm with you there," Guts said.
The team walked back to their bunks which were housed inside of a manufactured structure built right next to hanger 15 which housed the team's transports.
As soon as they entered their bunks, Guts instantly removed his sweat-soaked shirt and tossed it into his clothes hamper before picking out another shirt.
"If only we had a few girls in here," Judeau said as he changed his own shirt, "We'd make a lot of money off then gawking at you, boss."
"What would we do with it," Guts asked, "We're in Afghanistan. It's not like there's somewhere we could take the money to spend it."
"We could send it back stateside," Judeau said, "See what we can do with it when we return."
"Hit Vegas," Pippin asked as he waved his partially-clenched fist left and right as if he was shaking a pair of dice in his hand, "Make a few big scores at the craps tables," he then waved his hand forward as if he was letting the dice fly.
"If it's alright with you boys," Griffith said, "I'd rather hit the slots," he grabbed hold of a handful of air like he was playing a slot machine, and pulled it downwards.
"I personally prefer the roulette wheel," Judeau said as he pinched a small section of air as if he was holding a pill (the name given to the balls people use to play roulette), and gave it a small flick.
"What about you Guts," Pippin asked.
"Personally," Guts said as he sat down on his bed, kicked off his boots, and laid back in his bunk, "I'd prefer the baccarat tables."
"Our boy is a James Bond fan to the last," Griffith said as he jumped up onto his bunk and picked up the Fallen Angle Cigar he was smoking before raising it to his lips and began smoking.
"You know those things are going to kill you one day," Guts said as he pulled out his PS Vita, and resumed his game on Duke Nukem the Presidential Campaign.
"Yea, I know," Griffith said as he exhaled the smoke, "But honestly who cares? We're Special Forces soldiers in the middle of a country where some want to kill us and many others don't pay us two cents."
"I hear you there buddy," Guts said.
"You ever wanted more out of life Guts," Griffith asked.
"What do you mean," Guts asked.
"You know," Griffith said as he put the cigar back in his mouth, "You ever want a life outside the military? A family? Some money? A nice place to live?"
"Maybe after I'm done with the Marines," Guts said, "Right now the world needs us. So does the Corps. I'm perfectly happy right where I am now."
"I guess," Griffith said, "I guess."
That evening…
Dressed in what they were wearing earlier, and now their TRU-SPEC ACU MultiCam combat shirts they sat in the hanger opposite from their quarters as General Kurt Malone began their mission briefing.
"This is a big one boys," General Malone said, "This is one of the biggest strikes we've undertaken since SEAL Team 2 hit the poppy fields in Helmand Province last year," the map zoomed in on the Wakhan Corridor of Afghanistan, "Based on intel provided to us by Major Griffith's sources in the area we know that the Taliban will be moving a convoy of supplies through the Wakhan Corridor. Additional intelligence gained by NATO intelligence officers puts a high possibility that senior commander Amir Lakhani will be overseeing the transportation."
"Sir, if I may," Guts said as he looked at the intel, "We're going to be awfully close to the borders of Tajikistan, Pakistan, and China. What's the possibility of intervention by either of the three countries?"
"We believe there's very little possibility of intervention from any one of these three countries," General Malone said, "Just in case we have a King Stallion and two Vipers on standby ready to provide extraction if need be. But let me be clear, under no circumstances are you to engage any Chinese, Pakistani, or Tajikistani troops if you encounter them. Is that going to be a problem?"
"No sir," Guts said.
"Good," General Malone said, "You infiltrate via two Little Birds, and hike the rest of the way to a small shack located here," he pointed at a small wooded area of the corridor where there were remnants of an old village, "From there you wait until the convoy passes through, from there the objective is pretty straightforward: destroy the convoy, and if possible, kill Lakhani. Any questions," none of them spoke up, "Good. Get your gear, wheels up in half an hour. Godspeed boys."
Gut's primary weapon was an Mk 12 Mod 1 he customized with a Harris Bipod, Leupold Mark 4 scope, a PEQ-15 IR designator, and a suppressor. His sidearm was an M45A1 with a beveled mag well and an under-barrel laser-pointer.
Griffith carried an MK 18 Mod 0 with an RIS foregrip, PEQ-15 IR designator, Aimpoint CompM2 red dot sight, and a suppressor. His sidearm was a Glock 19 with an attached red-dot sight.
Pippin's main gun was an MK 48 Mod 0 with an ACOG scope, PEQ-15 IR designator, a cloth ammo bag, and a suppressor. His sidearm was his custom .44 Magnum Desert Eagle with a vented compensator and an extended 10-round magazine.
Judeau always carried an MP5-N with a railed handguard, M68 red dot sight, and a suppressor. His sidearm was a Sig Sauer P320 with an under-barrel laser-pointer, and an ambidextrous safety-switch.
"Alright boys," Griffith said as they walked toward their helicopter, "Are we ready?"
"Yes sir," Guts, Pippin, and Judeau exclaimed.
"What are we," Griffith asked.
"Hawks," the three of them exclaimed.
"What's our motto," Griffith asked.
"Fly like an eagle," the three of them exclaimed, "Dominate with force!"
"Good," Griffith said as he hopped on the skids of the Little Bird that would take them to the corridor, "Mount up!"
As the three others jumped on the skids and clipped onto the side of the helicopter, they quickly slid their helmets on and strapped them into place.
The patches on the center of their vests was a black-bordered shield-shaped patch with a white sword with two wings that nearly reached the tip on a cobalt blue background.
They had also painted the white emblem on their helmets and had even made custom rings for each member on the trigger fingers of their dominant hands.
The flight from Kandahar to the Wakhan Corridor would take the team through several of the most beautiful, and most dangerous places in Afghanistan.
"Amazing place," Griffith said as they passed over the mountains.
"Indeed," Guts said, "It's what we fight for buddy. So that the people who live here can enjoy it without being afraid."
"Got that right," Griffith said as he held his hand out, which Guts grabbed.
It was about midnight (local time) when the team touched down, Griffith always had Pippin on point being as he almost completely dead-on with his aim on that large MK48.
Guts walked behind him with Griffith in between him and Judeau who was working rear security.
It took about an hour of walking to reach the location where they would set up their ambush.
"Alright," Griffith said as he pointed up at the structure, "Let's get in there, and set up a crow's nest."
As the four walked up the hill to the structure, Guts tapped his fist on his helmet twice.
Pippin grabbed the twelve-pound sledgehammer out of Griffith's backpack, and in one swing cracked the door in two pieces.
Judeau entered first and signaled the team in behind him.
Pippin entered next, followed by Guts and Griffith, "Clear," Guts said.
They quickly approached the door that led into the main room, and as they took cover, Guts signaled Pippin to breach the door.
Pippin smashed the handle off the door and kicked the door in.
As the four of them entered, bright lights suddenly blinded the team, causing the team to shield their eyes.
As their vision cleared they were each staring down the barrels of black-polymer Kalashnikov MA compact assault rifles.
As the team raised their hands, the soldiers standing in front of them pulled their guns away from them and dropped them on the floor.
"So nice of you to join us," a large male said as he walked out from behind the lights, he was at least six foot ten and was severely disfigured.
His face was heavily scarred by chemical burns, his nose was reduced to almost two holes in the center of his face, and he wore heavy-rimmed goggles.
"Who are you," Guts asked.
"Me," he asked, "I am known by many names: the skull, Scarface, terrorist, murderer, fanatic, but you can call me… Void."
"Well then… Void," Guts said, "What do you want from us?"
"You are the Hawks are you not," Void asked before walking over to Griffith, "Why don't you ask him?"
"Boss," Judeau asked, "What are they talking about?"
"Sorry boys," Griffith said as he walked over to stand beside Void.
"What's going on," Guts asked.
"I can't make you understand now Guts," Griffith said, "But maybe someday you will. I'm sorry."
"You son of a…" Guts began before him, Judeau, and Pippin were clubbed over the back of their heads with the butt-stocks of some kind of rifle.
The three of them fell to the floor, and as Guts slipped into unconsciousness he could see Griffith removing his helmet, radio, vest, and walking away from the team.
Guts awoke to hear command screaming in his ear, "Hawks are you there?! Hawks come in! You've got armed hostiles approaching your position!"
"This is Desert Eagle," Guts said as he reached up to his earpiece, "Where are the hostiles coming from?"
"Great to hear you Eagle," Command said over the radio, "The hostiles are approaching from the South East. We're getting nothing from White Hawk."
"Hawk fucked us," Guts said as he looked out the window to see the hostiles walking up the hill, "We need immediate Evac!"
"We dispatching your Evac as soon as we spotted those hostiles approaching," Command said, "Air support is in route as well. Be advised they're still at least half an hour out."
"Roger that command," Guts said as he picked up his rifle, and checked the magazine to see they had left the bullets in them.
He then ran up to his comrades and roused them.
Guess what happens…