June 27th, 2011

Tim Riggins woke up early in the morning. The room he had to himself was the same as all of the other SEALs from Team Six during deployment. The room was small, but big enough for its single occupants. A door opened at the right side of the room. To its immediate left was a bed, pushed up against a wall. Right next to it, bordering the door, was a desk, which served as a bedside table. On the right side was a small bathroom with a shower and a small closet. At the very end of the room was a long metal locker, which served as each individual SEALs armory. It was chaotic, but still somewhat straight at the same time. A SEAL flag, along with a Tennessee Volunteers flag, hung above the desk. Several books were next to his grenades and HK416 rifle. His combat gear was strewn everywhere.

He yawned, stretched, and pulled out his laptop to check his email. A few bills, credit card offers, and… "There. An email from Heather."

He pulled it up. It was a picture of a horse. The caption read, "If you're still thinking about my wedding present. Just saying...Love, Heather."

He sighed and decided to go to the one person that he knew who knew enough about horses to help him. He grabbed the laptop, and walked down the hallway, shirtless, to Lucas's room. He gently knocked, then walked into the room. It was a mess, but not as bad as his own. Lucas's M110 Suppressed Rifle was on the desk. He had been cleaning it the night before for the potential upcoming op. All of the clothes in his duffel bags were now strewn about the floor, along with various clips to the various weapons in the half open Armory. But there was a neatness about his room as well. Like Riggins and most of the other SEAL's, his SEAL flag was above his desk, just underneath an American flag. A Texas flag was above his bed, reminding all who entered of the summers Lucas spent ranching in Texas since he was thirteen, and of course, that it was his favorite state, even if he didn't live there most of the time. A UBL wanted poster was also there. Among the M110 and its various clips were his laptop and phone, still lightly playing a mix that included lots of country and alternative songs, as well as new Taylor Swift stuff. His favorite artist. Tim lightly grabbed Lucas's shoulders, who in turn made a motion for the M9 that he kept under his pillow. Then, Lucas saw that it was Tim, groaned, and crashed his head back into the pillow.

Tim sat on the edge of the bed, and showed the screen to Lucas, who saw it briefly before closing his eyes again. "Is this doable?" Tim asked.

"Expensive." Lucas replied.

"How much?"

"Arabic. She's got good taste."

"I know…How much?"

"I'll find out. Expensive."

Tim nodded, then walked out of the room, down the other side of the hall, and walked into Charlie Baker's room. He silently stood there, faux glaring, before he got a response from Charlie. "I'm up."

Tim nodded, then walked out. "You're going down!" Charlie said loudly after him.

Matt woke up to the pinging of a message coming over Facebook. With unreliable cell reception, it was easier than texting sometimes. Peyton had texted him. "Are you up?"

"Yes, my love." He replied.

She asked, "What are you doing?"

His gaze wandered to the picture of him and her on the beach that he had nailed to his wall. "Looking at you."

"And how do I look?"

"Sweet as pie, boo."

He waited for a few seconds, then sent, "I won't be able to talk for a couple of days."

"Work?"

"Got to pay the bills..."

Tim and Charlie raced across the air base, going all around the perimeter, through checkpoints, hangars, several active runways with choppers and planes coming and going. Charlie had been ahead most of the way, but when the SEALs compound came into view, Tim began to gain. Slowly but surely, the gap, which had already been slim, began to close. And then they were even. And then Tim passed Charlie and widened the gap. And as they raced through the front of the compound, Tim threw his hands up in the air in victory. Charlie ran up a second later, and promptly put his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

"Riggins by 1.1." Lucas said.

Matt walked up with a hoodie over his head and sunglasses on to block out the ever-beautiful sunrise. "Who won?" He asked.

"Riggins. Barely." Lucas replied.

"Head shave?" Matt asked. Charlie made a pained face.

Tim took a seat and said, "Man...I got to think this one out. If I shave his head, I'm going to have to look at him. Really look at him. Ears, face, funny shaped head...I don't know. Lucas? What do you think?"

"I don't know, boss...I don't want to be looking at him that close either, but he has been running his mouth about beating you...a lot. Fuck it, Head shave is fair."

"Matt?"

"Hell yeah, I say shave him, and he can't eat with us, make him eat with E3 Marines until it grows back. Shave the boy."

Tim nodded and looked over to Clay, asking, "Clay, not that anyone cares, but what do you think? Now lemme see you make a tactical decision, fast."

The young man shrugged and said, "Well, I could go both ways on this. He did lose but, he was close…and you're Tim Riggins and I would have expected a much bigger separation. Plus, we're at war and there's the whole Samson thing, so I'm not sure. I'll plead the fifth on this one. But you're the boss, LT. So I'm with you. I'll shave his head, wax his balls if you give me the order. Sir, I'll wax my own balls if you take me on Red Wings."

Charlie looked up, even more pained. "Come on, Timmy, please man."

Tim chuckled and replied, "Yeah Charlie, this is probably not gonna go your way. Clay, get my razor."

"Getting razor, copy that."

At that moment, Alex Martin stepped out of the Tactical Operations Command, the TOC, and spoke. "Not today, gentleman. I just got the go from up top. Red Wings is for sure a go. Tonight. Ops workup in an hour."

The man walked inside, and Riggins said, "Beautiful."

With that, he, Charlie, Matt, and Lucas all headed back to the barracks, intending to shower. As they did so, Clay slid into the picnic table and asked Eric Barrett and Brett Stevens, who had been eating breakfast, "Boys, what the fuck do I have to do to go on Red Wings?"

Brett rolled his eyes and got up, muttering under his breath, while Eric replied, "Alright Clay, here's your first op. Clean all this up."

With that, he knocked over his coffee and walked off, leaving an annoyed Clay to clean it up. Brett asked Eric, "Hey, did you hear the National Security Advisor is in Bagram?"

"No shit, really?"

Brett nodded. "Yeah, apparently he landed last night."

Eric nodded. "Interesting. I wonder what about."

"Maybe it's got something to do with Red Wings."

Scarcely an hour later, the briefing began with Alex silencing the room of SEALs, sixteen of whom packed into the Op Room. "Alright boys, Operation Red Wings is a go. I'll turn it over to Riggins. Timmy?"

Alex went to lean against a wall while Riggins walked to the front of the room. He spoke, "Thanks Alex. Operation Red Wings. The target is Ahmad Shah and his, we are estimating ten men, loyal amigos, Including this dude. We only have a first name, Taraq. Seems to do most of the chief shit for Shah. We're going in with a four-man recon team. The recon team is Myself, Baker, Comms. Axe, Nav. Scott, Medic. Objective of this mission is to positively identify Ahmad Shah."

He pulled up a picture of Shah on PowerPoint. "This is the best picture we have of him. It's current. We know Shah killed fourteen Marines last Tuesday in Kandahar. We just pulled this video off three different Tali websites. It will, in fact, be a glorious day when Ahmad Shah and his good friend Taraq are no longer members of our human community."

The video showed the two men executing a "traitor" who had helped the Americans. His head was chopped off. The SEAL's studied the footage, dead serious.

"Bad guy. Senior Taliban commander responsible for killing Marines in Eastern Afghanistan and sport killing civilians in the Hindu Kush. Considered a Tier One target and rumored to be close to Bin Laden. Matt is going to go over our route in."

Matt, still sitting, pointed out different objectives on the mountain and said, "The helo pilots are going to do two false inserts. Then drop us off at our primary insert, located here. Secondary insert located two clicks off. From our primary insert, our bearing will be zero three zero patrolling 1.5 kilometers to our designated lay-up point. We will be moving up the backside of this mountain which will offer us good concealment from the target, but the terrain is gonna be rocky, so watch your footing. I'm estimating it's gonna take us about two hours to complete."

Riggins spoke, "Scott, medical."

Lucas stood up, and got straight to the point. "First things first, win the fight. There's no medicine in a gunfight. It's self aid, buddy aid, corpsman aide. Two weeks ago, Team 3 was near where we'll be. One of their guys got bit by a rattlesnake, and contrary to popular belief, there is poison oak, so watch the cock and balls cause that will suck. Drink lots of water, wear sunscreen, and Baker, bring your own chap stick."

Charlie got up to speak. "Crypto will be wide band, segment 2- 4. Riggins has got a SAT phone. Region is very steep, so expect typical comms problems. We'll be on two hour comms windows. If we miss two windows, I'd say wake somebody up. Other than that, don't sweat it."

"AC-130 with us?" Riggins asked.

Charlie nodded. "Correct. Just for the infil. All comms will be relayed through the AC-130, call sign Apollo. Suns up, she's out. Some of the key prowords, when we have a successful insert, Budweiser. When we're halfway through infill, it'll be Corona. At our observation point, Schlitz Malt Liquor. And if we positively identify Shah, Rick James."

Riggins got up again. "Reaction Force is the following: The V-25's will relocate to J-Bad overnight. The QRF has the Scorpions with them all the way for protection. Alex?"

"That's correct. You'll have fifteen team guys from Team 2 and about a dozen Marines standing by all night. When we hear Schlitz Malt Liquor, we're heading back to Bagram for phase 2. QRF will stay here. We're leaving you with 8 team guys, 20 marines, 2 Warbirds and 2 Scorpions. The Scorpions stay with the Warbirds. The movement is so we can get the V-25's back here and be ready to bring it for phase two once you get eyes on Shah. Remember, comms will most likely be intermittent and there are reports that noncombatants are being used as recon elements for the enemy."

The JAG assigned to the SEAL team began to go over the rules of engagement as the four men going studied the map on the table and the toy helicopters that represented the choppers and the toys that represented the soldiers. "Lotta moving parts." Matt said.

Alex got up again. "We go in tomorrow night. I'm pulling up the new guy presentation to 1800 today so that all may revel and partake."

Clay groaned while the rest of the SEALs whistled and cat called. "Are you serious?"

Martin smiled. "Yes, I most certainly am, Clay."

"What about Luke?"

Lucas laughed while Alex replied, "NCO privilege, Mr. Spenser. He's already had to embarrass himself for years. Don't want to do the new guy presentation on deployment? Jump a few paygrades here in the next few hours. Glorious evening, gentlemen."

The SEALs all stood up to exit, but a pair of men that entered stopped them dead in their tracks. The two men were Vice Admiral Michael Holden and National Security Advisor Jack Ryan Sr. Ryan stepped to the front of the room and looked all of the men in the eye before speaking.

"Gentlemen, I hope you understand by my presence here how important this mission is. Shah has been killing American soldiers in large numbers for years and is the direct extension of Bin Laden. Shah, as I'm sure all of you remember, hit your teammates not too long ago. I want revenge and I want it NOW. Now that we've got a tentative location, we CANNOT miss. For many of you, this will be one of the most important ops that you will ever execute. God speed, gentlemen."

Lucas smiled. This was his chance to make a major difference.

Lucas picked up the phone and called Brooke, keeping his fingers crossed that she was still up at this late hour. The phone buzzed a few times before the familiar message tone came on. Lucas sighed, listening to the directions, before changing his voice, trying to sound upbeat. "Hey pretty girl, it's me. Just wanted to check in on you. I know that its late, so I hope I didn't wake you. Anyways…I just wanted to hear your voice. I may be out of touch for a couple of days, so don't get too worried if you don't hear from me for a while…I love you, Brooke. Tell everyone back home I send my love. I'm counting down the days until I see you again."

With that, Lucas ended the call, sighed, and then headed back into the barracks to clean and prep his gear.

Tim walked out of a meeting with the SEAL commanders and out into the sunlight. Despite the sun, the air was cool. Bagram Airbase, even in the summer, was chilly, and the mountains were cold. He slid his worn hoodie on and slid his sunglasses on. As he walked towards his barracks and room, he pulled out his phone, hoping to get Heather. The phone rang a few times, and then was answered. "Hello?"

"Hey, babe."

"Tim! Hey, how are you?"

"I'm doing pretty good. It's really freaking chilly here."

"Want me to send you a few sweaters?"

"Yeah, some sweaters and some of my hoodies would be great, actually. Thanks for offering."

"No problem. Hey, did you get my email this morning?"

Tim snorted. "Yes, actually. You know, I heard somewhere that the only thing the groom had to pay for was the rehearsal dinner."

Heather laughed and said, "Oh honey, you are sadly mistaken."

"Well, is that anything new?"

Heather shook her head. "Oh, stop it. Now I feel guilty. So…any missions coming up?"

"You know I can't talk about that, babe."

She sighed. "I know..."

"But, since you mentioned it, I may be out of reach for a few days."

"Everything alright?"

"Just gonna get a little wet and sandy. Nothing too crazy."

"Tim, you be safe, okay?"

"I will, babe. I promise."

Tim scratched the back of his neck in slight guilt as he arrived at his door. "Babe, I've got to go. I need to start getting some stuff ready, okay?"

"Okay, Tim. I love you."

"I love you too. I'll talk to you in a couple of days."

Later, the four going on the op ate a large meal. Lucas was having a fly catching competition with Tim when he noticed Baker looking at a paper with a bunch of colors on it.

"How's the house, Charlie?" Tim asked without looking at the paper.

Charlie shook his head and said, "We were gonna wait, but she's all into it and when she gets her head into something, that's it. There's no stopping her."

Tim nodded and said, "So, just let her do it. It's good for her. You got a handy man woman. That's a good thing."

"I don't know."

"Don't know what?"

"I just don't know."

Lucas butted in and asked, "What?"

Matt interjected, "He's afraid he's losing control of his casa."

"Really..." Lucas said sarcastically.

Matt nodded and pointed. "Yeah, Go on. Ask him."

"Are you worried you're losing control over your casa?" He asked, this directed at Baker.

Charlie rolled his eyes and said, "Shut up, Luke."

Lucas speculated, "He's having control issues cause he's the one who's always made the taste issues in the family."

Baker shook his head and replied, "She's got great taste. I trust her."

"So, what's the problem?" Riggins asked. Lucas nodded his agreement.

Charlie responded, "It's not a problem. It's just very ongoing. Know what I mean? New grass leads to new bushes by the window, leads to new windows, leads to new curtains, leads to new sofa, leads to new rug, leads to new floor..."

"So, it's control issues." Lucas said, smiling to himself, enjoying being one of the guys.

Baker said, "No," While Riggins said, "Yes."

Charlie glared, before continuing. "It's like this weird journey that she's on. Moving through the house one room to the next."

"Sounds pregnant." Tim said.

Charlie's head whipped around. Matt laughed as he was speaking, "Dude, congratulations! How far along is she?"

"She's not pregnant." Charlie said.

"Where's she at now?" Lucas asked.

"Kitchen I think."

"Sounds awful." Lucas said.

"Sounds pregnant." Tim said. They all burst out laughing.

All of the SEAL's walked into the lounge to watch Clay's Initiation. Finally, after everyone walked in, Clay did as well. He walked up front, and addressed Martin. "Sir, I am ready to begin."

Alex shook his head. "No, you're not."

Clay looked at him quizzically. Martin continued, "You should introduce yourself, tell us something about you that we don't know."

Clay nodded. "Alright, my name is Petty Officer..."

He was cut off by yells and jeers, as well as many different things being thrown at him. Clay calmed and started again. "My name is Petty Officer..."

He was cut off again by the yells and screams and many objects turned projectiles, to which Clay dodged while laughing, appreciating the fun.

Alex spoke, "Mr. Patton, you may begin."

Music turned on, and Clay launched into Napoleon Dynamite, dancing his heart out. It was horrendous. At the end, Matt stood up. "God that was awful." Lucas said.

Matt then Spoke, "Ok, here's the deal. That sucked, but I'm voting that we move him forward because I can't watch this shit without puking anymore. So, I say lest be done with it. All in favor?"

Everyone except Tim raised their hands. Tim shook his head. "I don't know, can he say it?"

Everyone nodded along with him. Lucas remembered the words in his head, words that he had learned the very day that he had been given his trident. The poem that epitomized the SEAL Teams. Matt and Clay whispered, and then Clay began. "I've been around the world twice, talked to everyone once. I've seen two whales fuck, been to three world fairs, and I even know a man in Thailand with a wooden cock. I've pushed more peter, more sweeter, and more completer, than any other peter-pusher around."

As he continued, he got stronger in his voice, and the SEAL's smiled, may mouthing the words along with him. "I am a hard-bodied, hairy-chested, rootin, tootin, shootin, parachutin, demolition double cap crimping Frogman."

Lucas and the SEAL's geared up that night, and Clay's voice continued on in his head. "There ain't nothing I can't do. No sky too high, no sea too rough, no Muff too tough. I've learned a lot of lessons in my life. Never shoot a large caliber man with a small caliber bullet."

Lucas checked his weapon, all of his gear. He and the others wore Crye combat uniforms. Their camo, helmets, armor, and weapons were all a bland desert tan, designed to blend in with the loose dust and dirt of the mountains. All SEALs had carbon cut helmets with night vision goggles and TYR Tactical Plate Carriers "…I drive all kinds of trucks. 2x's, 4x's, 6x's even those big mother fuckers that bend and go TSSHITT TSSHITT when you step on the brakes."

"Anything in life worth doing is worth overdoing. Moderation is for cowards."

They all sat on the TARMAC, waiting for the V-25 VTOL Warship that was coming to pick them up for the mission. Each of the soldiers checked their individual equipment one last time. Lucas put on his helmet and checked his night vision goggles as the sun began to set across the Afghan landscape. He looked at the picture of Brooke one and kissed it, before tucking it in his vest. Tim watched over it all, preparing mentally one last time to lead his men. "I'm a lover, I'm a fighter, I'm a UDT/SEAL Diver. I'll wine, dine, intertwine, and then sneak out the back door when the refueling is done."

The chopper landed, took its troops, and headed out. "So If you're feeling froggy, then you better jump, because this Frogman has been there, done that, and is going back for more. Cheers boys."

Lucas plugged in his earphones for the long flight, and smiled at his men. All of them, His brothers. He smiled, and settled in for a nap, thinking of Brooke.