(AN: So, this chapter didn't take as long as I thought it would...I will say that I find it very fun to write these chapters, mostly because it channels the inner kid in me, the one who when watching these Disney movies when I was younger I always was imagining what it would be like if some badass character was in there to mix things up. And hopefully all the Exiles are coming together nicely, I especially enjoy writing Torrez. Honestly I had to go back and re-read the earlier chapters to make sure everything meshed. It's one of the reasons why I prefer to write out 2K word chapters versus the 5-7K word chapters, easier to keep track of the continuity.
I did rush this chapter out before my Crossfit class, so if it has any grammar errors or the like apologies, I will get them corrected ASAP. Hope you enjoy!)
(Location: ? 19:10 hours local time)
Nighttime has fallen over a lush forest, a waning moon gives off a feeble light that barely illuminates the treetops. But, there is another source of light, this one comes from a clearing in the forest. The source of light is a large fire in the middle of a makeshift camp, surrounded by three armored vehicles arranged in a protective circle, their armed turrets pointing outwards, the gunners manning the turrets keeping a vigilant watch. Even in the pitch darkness, the gunners can see all with the aid of their NVG's, but nothing stirs beyond the treeline.
Inside the camp the soldiers of Kilo Company have finished off their evening meal of MRE's and are passing the time until lights out. Some, like Cooper and Barrigan, are cleaning their weapons and trading stories, others are sitting close to the fire either warming themselves, or in the case of SFC Barnes, reading by the firelight. Also sitting on a log by the fire is the commander of Kilo Company, Captain Pilton. He is seated opposite Barnes, and is smoking a cigarette. At first, the captain just stares into the flames, his slate-grey eyes reflecting the light and seem to glow, ignoring the rest of his surroundings.
A figure approached in the gloom, revealing himself to be none other than 1SG Dossler. He stood at attention and cleared his throat.
"Sir, I've gotten a bead on our coordinates, as best as we can tell."
Pilton hadn't moved from his spot, but nodded.
"Roger that, and thank you for lending a hand to High-Speed."
A small, tight smile creased the company 1st sergeant's cruel face.
"Think nothing of it, sir."
He set down a laminated map next to Pilton.
"I'll let you look it over at your leisure, sir."
Pilton took another drag from his cigarette.
"Roger that. Inform the men we move out at first light."
Dossler turned to leave.
"Roger that, sir."
With his 1st sergeant gone, Pilton continued to stare into the fire. Then, he spoke again.
"Did you think I had forgotten you?"
Pilton's eyes swiveled towards the audience, without breaking eye contact he took another drag from his cigarette and continued.
"Perhaps you hoped I had...and that this story would just be about some goofball privates trying to hack it in a fairy tale."
He exhaled smoke, and scoffed.
"Long's boys trying to play the hero in medieval Iraq? Don't make me laugh. We all tried that back in '03, didn't turn out well then, and it ain't gonna be any different now."
He glanced around at his men and shrugged apologetically.
"Oh, sorry, I'm afraid we're not going to make it to that particular party. S'not the author's fault, for what it's worth..."
Pilton's gaze fell on Lt. Perkins, who was pouring over a map via penlight, and the captain's expression soured.
"Ol' High-Speed's on point, which means he has no idea where we are, and has consequently led us to the ass-end of nowhere. Hell, we're so far off course we could be in the Hundred Acre Wood for all I know."
The captain finished off his cigarette and flicked it into the fire. He took the map off the log next to him, stood up, and stretched. He then bent down and picked up his weapon, a sleek FAMAS G2 bullpup assault rifle. He checked the chamber to make sure there was a round racked, then shouldered it. Pilton seemed to notice the audience's interest in his weapon.
"Oh, this? Well, this is part of a larger cache of weapons and equipment, courtesy of Kilo's new benefactor."
As he walked past some of the men he lowered his voice to a whisper.
"You remember ol' Tall, Dark and Scaly?"
Pilton paused at a large supply trailer. Normally it was towed by the second support HUMVEE, but now it was parked in the center of the camp. The soldiers of Kilo Company were pulling MRE packets and spare ammo mags out of the canvas-covered interior. The captain pointed it out.
"That's also a present of our benefactor. It has enough fuel, food and ammo to supply us for at least a month outside the wire, and rumor has it there's more where that came from."
He reached in and pulled out an MRE pouch, upon reading the label, the captain grinned.
"Chili Mac, my favorite..."
Pilton made his way back to the fire and sat down. He tore open the top of the pouch and pulled out the entree packet. As he removed a plastic utensil from the accessory packet he continued.
"I know its all processed shit, but there is something comforting about eating an MRE..."
He took a bite from the entree packet, obviously savoring the taste.
"...especially when you came from Dubai where usually tasteless protein bars were pretty much all that was on the menu..."
The captain polished off his Chili Mac entree, and tossed the empty packet into the fire.
"Well, I'd like to stay and chat, but duty calls."
He turned to Barnes, who was still reading.
"Sar'ent Barnes, inform the men lights out in ten, I want Martzen, Cooper and Perkins to relieve watch at zero dark thirty."
The scarred NCO nodded and grunted out a "roger that", then Pilton turned his attention back to the audience.
"Well, I gotta set a good example and hit the sack..."
As he turned to leave, the captain gave a conspiratorial wink.
"...But don't worry, Kilo Company will make their debut in this little tale soon enough. Until then..."
(streets of Agabrah, 14:46 hours local time)
"Hey kid! Wait up!"
Torrez struggled as he tried to disentangle himself from his cloak disguise. Deciding that the jig was up, the sergeant concluded that subterfuge was no longer a priority and tossed the cloak and turban aside. Now, the main priority was keeping up with Romeo and his princess girlfriend. As he ran, Torrez's radio crackled to life.
"Misfit Three this is Misfit One Actual Romeo, how copy?"
He secured his UMP-45 and keyed the mic on his radio.
"Misfit One Actual Romeo this is Misfit Three, go ahead."
He heard Mayfield's voice come through the static.
"...be advised we are inbound, estimated ETA five mikes...Establishing RV point at coordinates -44.933 by 36.4666..."
Torrez stopped and pulled out a laminated map from the bellows pocket of his ACU's. He scanned over it briefly until he found the coordinates.
"Solid copy Misfit One Actual Romeo I have the coordinates pegged, will RV in five mikes..."
He looked up and saw a familiar couple running across the rooftops.
"Shit, how the fuck did they get up there?"
"Say again Misfit Three did not copy your last..."
"Ah, better make that ten mikes...I gotta catch up with Aladdin and his girlfriend. Will check in when we're close to rally point. Misfit Three out..."
(BGM: Aladdin OST, One Jump Ahead)
Torrez secured his radio and map, then paused. He swore he could hear music and singing, and to him it was very familiar. He spoke up to nobody in particular.
"Am I the only one who can hear music playing?"
He paused and saw a bystander who was shoveling manure into a cart. The man looked up at Torrez, eyed his ACU's and plate carrier, then shrugged indifferently. Torrez chuckled.
"Yeah, thanks bud."
The sergeant then heard another voice from the alleyway bark out.
"Look, they went that way!"
Torrez cursed and started clambering up a stack of barrels, almost losing his balance in the process. One of the barrels tipped as the sergeant regained his balance and bounded up to the rooftops, causing an avalanche that temporarily halted the guards. As he climbed onto the roof Torrez saw Aladdin and the princess had managed to vault or jump to the next rooftop.
"Hey! How did you guys get over there? A flying carpet?"
The young thief grinned and waved Torrez over.
"Just jump, you'll be fine!"
The sergeant peered over the edge and quickly regretted it. He called back.
"Ah, I'm gonna take 'Shit that Ain't Happening' for $500, Alex Trebek..."
Torrez saw the blank look that Aladdin and the princess were giving him, so he continued.
"Means fuck no, kid. There's no way a human can make that jump..."
"Come on, do you trust me?"
The soldier shook his head.
"Ah...no."
The princess took a step forward.
"Perhaps the giaour is afraid..."
She folded her arms.
"If you're too frightened to do what the boy and I can do, that is understandable..."
Torrez had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but then he heard more cursing as the guards were trying to climb to the roof as well. That made up his mind.
"Okay kid, you win...here goes nothing!"
He took a few steps back, then took off in a full run, wishing he had qualified better at both the 100 yard dash and the running jump part of boot camp.
(Meanwhile)
Lt. Bradley jerked the steering wheel, causing the HUMVEE to swerve. They had narrowly avoided hitting yet another caravan, as they got closer to the city there was more and more foot traffic, which complicated things. The lieutenant mashed down on the horn, causing a shrill beep that if anything just caused the locals to panic even more. He cursed.
"Shit! At this rate we'll never make it to Torrez's rally point!"
His medic, PVT. Davis, lowered his binoculars.
"Sir, I've got more bad news...apparently our little ruckus has attracted the attention of the city guards..."
Bradley squinted against the glare on the windshield. Sure enough, the panicking civilians were rushing towards the city gates, and the guards were in the process and pushing them back and closing the gates.
"Fuck! We don't have time for this shit!"
He turned to Davis.
"Pri'at, when we get close I want you to make us an opening!"
Davis grinned.
"Roger that!"
The medic pushed open the armored turret hatch and pulled himself up. As they got closer to the gate Davis called down into the cabin.
"Mayfield, gimme the SCAR!"
His fellow soldier handed Davis his assault rifle, and he loaded an M433 grenade into the underslung launcher tube. He then leveled his weapon at the gate, raising it slightly to compensate for drift. At the last minute he yelled out.
"Grenade out!"
With a loud THUMP! he fired, and the grenade found its mark. The city gates of Agabrah were made of heavy timber with solid wrought-iron fasteners and reinforced with steel bands. It was designed to withstand any siege and even direct hits from a battering ram. But, its designers had not taken into account the destructive effects of a 40mm high-explosive anti-tank grenade. Designed to penetrate tank armor, it made short work of the gates, as they were blown to splinters by the explosion.
The dust had barely settled when the Exile's HUMVEE charged through the ruined gate, smashing aside the fragments and barreling into the streets of Agabrah. Lt. Bradley shook his head.
"Well, we might have just started a war, I sure as hell hope Torrez is doing better!"
Sgt. Torrez was not having a good day. First, he undershot the rooftop by a foot, landing hard against the hardened clay wall. As the sergeant slid down the side of the building he was sure that something popped or broke inside him. Then he had fallen through a window and had fallen into someone's boudior. Then, to his horror Torrez found the room's owner, or rather she found him.
It took him another five minutes to disentangle himself from the large female, who was so fat and covered in makeup he was certain that she was some private's dependa. Finally he had made it out the door and had climbed up to the rooftops, only to find both Aladdin and the princess gone.
"Motherfucker!"
As he was trying to figure out in which direction the two love birds went off to, his radio crackled to life again.
"Misfit Three, this is Misfit Two how copy?"
Torrez grinned and pulled out his radio.
"S'wrong, Connors? Is the loot too busy to talk to me in person?"
As if to respond Torrez heard an explosion, and the distinctive clatter of automatic gunfire echoing in the distance. To his right he saw a plume of black smoke curl upwards. He heard Connors' voice come through the static.
"Ah, Misfit Three, be advised, we've been bogged down by some sort of trench trap, you're gonna hafta hoof it to us...we're about five clicks from your position..."
The sergeant nodded.
"Roger that, be advised, I'll home in on the smoke and the noise...I gotta round up Romeo and his squeeze, will be there ASAP..."
He got a squawk as a response, and pocketed his radio. Torrez pulled out his binocs and scanned the rooftops, just in time to see movement at his two o'clock. He zoomed in, and was rewarded by seeing two familiar figures climbing into the attic of an abandoned building. He lowered his binocs and sighed.
"Shit, this fairy tale's getting more and more fucked by the minute..."
(Meanwhile)
Aladdin took a step back. There were several heavily armed men who were waiting in his favorite hiding place. It was as if they knew where to look. And worse, they were wearing the livery of the Royal Palace. He glanced involuntarily at the princess, doubtlessly they were looking for her. He tried shielding her from them, but to no avail. The head guard, a massive man with a muscular trunk and bulging arms the size of tree trunks, gave a low bow.
"A thousand apologies, for intruding, your majesty."
The princess raised her chin defiantly.
"Tell me, oh overzealous Captain of the Guards, did my father send you?"
The man gave another bow.
"You speak the truth, your majesty. Your father, his highness Sultan Harun al-Rashid, the Just and Upright, Beloved by Allah and all, ruler of Agabrah, was worried about you."
She glanced over and saw some of the guards moving towards Aladdin and protested.
"Wait! The boy had nothing to do with this! We just met on the streets, he has no idea who I am."
The warrior shook his head apologetically.
"It pains me to say this knowing that it will upset you, your majesty, but one, he now knows who you are, and that secret cannot get out. And plus-" he gave Aladdin a baleful glare, "-this one is a known thief and must be taken in for questioning."
Just then the door swung open, surprising everyone, including the guards. Torrez's eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, and he removed his Oakleys.
"Oh shit..."
The Captain of the Guards stared at the soldier as if he were an apparition. Quick as lightening, Torrez smoothly launched into a casual conversation.
"Okay, check it out...I was chasin' down this punk kid, y'see, he lifted my wallet..."
He saw that the guards closest to him was staring at his uniform and his slung weapon.
"Hey, I'm from out of town, okay? Just passin' through and wanted to pick up some souvenirs for the missus..."
Then, at the most inopportune moment, his radio crackled to life.
"Misfit Three, where the fuck are you?! We're getting bogged down here!"
All of the guards jumped, with at least one of them averting his eyes and muttering about 'black magic'. Torrez discretely pulled out his radio and whispered into the mic.
"Now's not a good time...I'll check back!"
He switched off his radio, then he saw one of the guards speak up.
"He's one of them! One my fellow guards said there were giaours who rammed through the city gate with explosive sorcery!"
Torrez saw the sitch was rapidly deteriorating.
"Y'know what? I'm not even tripping on him taking my wallet. Only had four bucks in it anyways..."
He slowly edged towards the doorway, still talking.
"...Tell you what, if you happen to find it, just mail it back to me...name's Sergeant Omar Torrez, that's with two 'r's."
He turned to go, only to find his way blocked by a couple of the guards.
"Ah, big guy? Can you tell Tweedle Dumb and Dumber here to move? I gotta pop smoke."
The Captain of the Guard gave Torrez an evil smile.
"If it is true that you are part of this invading force, then the Vizir will want to interrogate you himself, to unlock the secrets of your sorcery."
One of the guards put a meaty hand on Torrez's shoulder, and the soldier panicked. On reflex he clubbed the man with the butt of his UMP-45 and fired off a burst, causing one of the guards to crumple to the ground. The Captain and his guards, as well as the princess stared in horror at Torrez's handiwork, but the soldier took advantage of the distraction and started to leave. He called back to Aladdin.
"C'mon, Romeo! Let's go!"
As the young thief started to leave, the princess glared at him.
"Why are you leaving with this foreigner?!"
Torrez shrugged.
"Hey, language, missy! And for the record I don't think Romeo wants to spend the rest of the week in a dungeon."
Aladdin nodded.
"Yes, I'm sorry my love, but I have to leave..."
"But why?"
"Because I made a promise to them...and they made me a promise. Without them I cannot hope to recover the treasure."
The princess shook her head angrily.
"Treasure?! Is that all you can think of right now?"
"I need that treasure, otherwise I'm just a street rat, and will always be one!"
"But you're more than that, Aladdin!"
The young thief snorted.
"Easy words coming from someone who's never had to fight for their next meal!"
"What are you insinuating, insolent fool!?"
Torrez and the guards were watching the lover's quarrel with rapt attention, their own quarrels completely forgotten. The soldier nudged one of the guards.
"Man, now Romeo's put his foot in it...that's gonna cost him at least a dozen roses and a diamond necklace."
The guard snickered, nodding in agreement. Then, suddenly both Torrez and the guard realized what was going on. Fortunately the sergeant was quicker on his feet. He grabbed the still bickering Aladdin and shoved him out the door. He then raised his UMP-45.
"Okay you primitive screwheads, lissen up! This here is my boomstick! And it'll kill any and all of ya if you so much as breaths the wrong way!"
He backed towards the door.
"Now, I ain't here to invade your city, or cause any shit, but I ain't going to no dungeon..."
He saw them frozen to the spot.
"Okay bye..."
Torrez rushed out the door.
(BGM: Black Hawk Down OST: Barra Barra, Rachid Taha)
The sergeant took cover in an alleyway. He peered out and saw the coast was clear, for now. Torrez took that moment to apologize.
"Sorry kid, but we didn't have time to discuss it in a committee..."
He saw some of the Royal Guards spill out of the opening and pulled the young thief deeper into cover.
"I'm gonna fire, and when I do, I want you to run as fast as you can to that next alleyway, got it?"
The boy nodded, so Torrez pulled himself out of cover and leveled his weapon.
"Firing!"
He let off a burst that caused the guards to scatter. As Torrez fired Aladdin broke off into a full sprint. The sergeant glanced over his shoulder and saw the youth had taken cover, so he dropped an empty magazine and turned to follow.
And so unfolded a familiar pattern; Torrez and Aladdin would sprint to an alleyway, until the guards caught up to them, the sergeant would open fire, giving them enough time to escape, until the next street.
Finally, Torrez took cover behind an empty fruit stall. He patted the ammo pouches on his vest, and found that he was out of spares. He pushed the release button on the receiver and dropped his last mag to do an ammo check. Ten rounds. The young thief Aladdin dropped beside him, huffing and out of breath.
"C'mon, Romeo! Aren'cha used to being chased?"
The young man nodded breathlessly.
"Yes, effendi, but not by as many guards!"
Torrez was about to respond when his radio went off.
"Misfit Three, this is Misfit Two, `port in, what's your status?"
He keyed the mic.
"Status is fucked, Connors! I'm running low on ammo and I have no idea where the fuck we are..."
He heard Connors respond.
"Ah, Misfit Three stand by I could have sworn I heard your gunfire, you have to be close. Do me a favor and pop smoke."
Torrez looked over and saw some of the guards approaching.
"I can do that...it'll also give us a smokescreen..."
He pulled out a cylindrical grenade from his assault vest, yanked off the pin and tossed it out into the open. As soon as the grenade hit the ground it started spewing out thick white smoke. Immediately Connors' voice spoke up again on the radio.
"Roger that, Misfit Three I have a visual on your smoke...good news, you're quite literally just two blocks away...if you approach on a heading of due east you'll run right into us..."
Torrez nodded, and stood up. Just as he was about to say something a shape bounded out of the smoke, revealing a large guard. He let out a sadistic sneer and raised his meter-long scimitar overhead. Without thinking Torrez raised his weapon and fired, the .45 ACP bullets punched through the guard's thin mail armor and killed him instantly. But the sergeant had no time to gloat, he was now out of ammo. He turned to Aladdin.
"We gotta make a break for it, only this time I'm out of ammo for my boomstick..."
The boy nodded, but then to Torrez's surprise bent down and picked up the dead guard's sword.
"You retreat, I will cover you!"
The sergeant shook his head.
"That's a negative, kid..."
But the youth interrupted him.
"...You did the same for me, effendi! I will return the favor, just remember our bargain!"
Realizing that there was no way of dissuading the boy, Torrez just nodded.
"Roger that, just don't be a hero."
Aladdin gave the soldier a friendly wave.
"Not to worry, I will be right on your heels, effendi!"
Torrez then took off running through the alleyway, across a street and into another side-street. As he ran the sound of gunfire grew louder, and for a moment he was getting more flashbacks to his time in Baghdad. Sure enough, up ahead was the familiar sight of their HUMVEE, although it was stuck in some sort of trap. PVT. Davis and PFC Mayfield were taking cover behind the truck, firing on heavily armed men that were trying to advance.
The sergeant noted that these men, although wearing similar armor to the Royal Guard that accosted him and Aladdin, they did not have the royal livery. Which meant they were mercenaries, or worse. His musings were interrupted by Bradley's voice shouting at him.
"Torrez! Take cover!"
He ducked behind an overturned cart. Also crouched in cover was Lt. Bradley and SSG Connors.
"Hey, El-tee! Long time no see!"
But his CO was in no mood for jokes. Bradley's face was flushed, and he glared at Torrez.
"The fuck's wrong with you, sar'ent?! What part of low-profile don't you understand?"
The lieutenant looked around.
"Speaking of which, where's Aladdin?"
Torrez glanced back at the side-street. There was no sign of the youth.
"Aw shit! He's still back there!"
"What?!"
"Hey, I was out of ammo, and he volunteered to cover my retreat!"
"Fine, you march your skinny ass back there and retrieve him!"
Torrez had an angry retort on the tip of his tongue, but Connors beat him to it.
"Save it, Torrez."
He turned to Bradley.
"I'll go, sir. I've still got some buckshot in this squirrel gun."
The lieutenant frowned, but finally nodded.
"Fine, but no heroics. Get him and get back here."
He turned and shouted out the order.
"Davis, Mayfield! Provide covering fire!"
As both privates opened up, Connors stood up, his combat shotgun leveled.
"I'm going into the killzone, cover me!"
Bradley watched as Connors bolted for the side street. Then he heard Davis shout out.
"Changing mags! Enemy QRF coming up on the rear!"
The lieutenant nodded, then shouted into his radio.
"Misfit Two, if you do not have eyes on the package fall back, enemy QRF is trying to outflank!"
His radio crackled to life and SSG Connors' voice came through the static.
"Misfit One Actual, this is Misfit Two, I have the package, we hit the target early...be advised there are crossbowmen in the field..."
The lieutenant grinned and keyed the mic.
"Roger that, Misfit Two just get your ass back here!"
Bradley looked up and hollered over to Mayfield.
"Misfit Two is inbound, check your fire, check your fire!"
He saw more of the enemy getting closer, and called over to Mayfield again.
"Better get Deadly on the horn, private. Shit's gonna get hairy here in a bit!"
Mayfield hollered back a 'Lima Charlie', and Bradley heard Torrez chuckle.
"Still think it was a good idea to take that detour, El-Tee?"
Bradley shook his head.
"As big of a mess as you made of this sergeant, you're making me question all of my life decisions..."
He looked up and saw SSG Connors appear from the side-street entrance. He had the youth slung over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and sprinted back into cover. As he set Aladdin down, the big sergeant took a ragged breath.
"Damn, for a scrawny little runt that kid weighs a ton..."
Bradley looked over the youth. He was unconscious, his face was covered blood, the scalp wound wasn't deep, but it bled plenty before it had a chance to congeal. The young street thief also had a long cut across his back. He looked over to Connors, who shrugged.
"Kid tried to go all Errol Flynn on one of the guards, with predictable results..."
The lieutenant nodded and looked over to where Davis and Mayfield were.
"Medic! Davis, get over here!"
PVT Davis broke formation and made his way to the rear. He knelt beside Aladdin and unvelcro'd a small pack off his thigh.
"Patching this kid up is becoming a full-time job, sir..."
He unzipped the medpack, and pulled out a pressure bandage. He heard Bradley speak up.
"Get him patched up enough so we can exfil..."
He shouted over to Mayfield.
"Private! You got Deadly yet?"
The private shook his head, so Bradley checked the field. He heard Connors' voice beside him.
"Well loot? How bad is it?"
Bradley lowered his binocs.
"Well, every time those thugs try to rush us, we pick `em off."
He looked up at the rooftops overhead.
"But those crossbowmen are moving in cover, and they'll have us outflanked before too much longer."
He glanced down at his M4.
I'm down to my last full mag, Davis has half a magazine left on his SCAR-H, Mayfield has two more mags for his rifle, but it'll be useless in close combat."
Connors looked down at his M1014 shotgun.
"An' I used up my last three shells rescuing Romeo..."
He looked over to Torrez.
"How about you?"
Torrez shrugged sheepishly.
"Ah sorry man, I burned up all my UMP-45 ammo fleeing the guards with Romeo there."
He held up his M9.
"I do have three magazines for this little pea-shooter!"
Then the sergeant's radio crackled to life.
"To the friendly IFF this is Private First Class Pete Gobbi of the Damned 33rd, how copy?"
Torrez grinned as he responded.
"Well, shit Pete Gobbi as I live and breathe! Good to hear a friendly voice, where the fuck did you come from?"
He heard Gobbi chuckle.
"Ah, you could say I appeared out of thin air...I'm on the rooftops overlooking beaucoup badguys with crossbows...permission to engage."
The sergeant glanced over to Bradley, who nodded. Torrez keyed the mic.
"Roger that, permission granted consider yourself cleared hot. You just saved our bacon..."
He paused.
"Be advised, we have a chopper inbound for extract, I am relaying rally point coordinates..."
Gobbi's voice came through the static.
"Roger that, as soon as these guys are toast I will exfil to the rally point...Gobbi out!"
Bradley, in spite of the situation. Another member of the 33rd showed up and pulled their asses out of the fire. Maybe the sitch wasn't so fucked, after all. There was a nagging thought in the back of the lieutenant's head; this PFC Gobbi had sided with Konrad during the Mutiny, the same naysayer voice was questioning the private's loyalties and motivations.
His musings were interrupted by Mayfield, who ran up to him.
"Sir, I've got Deadly on the horn!"
The lieutenant nodded and took the radio handset from Mayfield. He clicked the receiver.
"Deadly, Deadly, this is Misfit One Actual, what is your ETA?"
A female voice came through the static.
"Misfit One Actual this is Deadly, be advised I'm still getting this helo up in the air, ETA is about ten mikes."
Bradley cursed, and he must have not released the receiver because their pilot's voice spoke up again.
"Ah, sorry Misfit One Actual, but your Charlie-Foxtrot kinda caught me off-guard. I'll try to speed shit up, but this isn't the movies, my 'bird isn't a Volkswagen that you can just start up and drive..."
The young officer nodded.
"Lima Charlie, Deadly. We'll try and hold out until then. Be advised, we have a sizeable enemy QRF closing in trying to outflank our poz, with a friendly drawing their fire. Once we are cleared we will be proceeding to secondary extract point."
"Understood, how many asses am I pulling out of the fire?"
Bradley grinned, then glanced back at his men.
"Total number is six tac's; five sierras, one package, package will need medical attention. Friendly confirmed that he will RV at the rally point, this will be a hot extract!"
"Roger that. Just let me know if you need help, this 'bird's doesn't have the fangs that my Cobra gunship had, but it does still have some teeth..."
Bradley glanced up at his two NCO's.
"Connors, Torrez, I want you to help transport the package to the secondary extract. Davis, Mayfield and I will cover your exfil, and we'll follow as soon as Gobbi keeps those fuckers distracted."
SSG Connors nodded up at the rooftops.
"What about the pri'at?"
The young officer shrugged.
"PFC Gobbi said he had plenty of ammo and a target rich environment. He assured me he'll be able to make it to the rally point."
"And if he doesn't?" Torrez pressed.
Bradley glanced back at the deserted street turned charnel house.
"Then the private's on his own. Remember, we don't know where his loyalties lie. As I recall, he sided with Konrad and his lot, which make him one of the 'Damned.'"
He saw the look in Connors' eyes, so Bradley quickly added.
"..But, if shit get's hairy then I'll have Deadly extract him from the rooftops..."
That seemed to satisfy both Connors and Torrez, they both shouldered their weapons and picked up the unconscious teen-aged thief. They slowly made their way through the street, occasionally firing back to slow down their attackers. Bradley could hear the distinctive chopping sound of an approaching helicopter and called out.
"Deadly is en route! We gotta make the rally point!"
As they paused to take cover at a wide alcove in the street Bradley heard Mayfield fire his SCAR-H, then call out.
"I'm out! Switching to sidearm!"
The private dropped his automatic weapon, letting it dangle on its sling, then unholstered and raised his M9, firing off double-tapping shots. But the guards seemed to have sensed the fact that the soldiers had run out of ammunition for their automatic weapons, as more of them appeared out of alleyways and side-streets. Then Connors called out.
"I'm out too!"
Bradley cursed and raised his M4, firing off single shots at the center of the mass of guards. As he covered their retreat, he heard Connors shout.
"More tangos, twelve o'clock!"
The lieutenant turned and the sight made his heart sink. He saw more heavily armed guards that had appeared and were blocking path. They were cut off. Quickly he motioned over to Mayfield.
"Get Deadly on the horn and let `er know we're cut off!"
Mayfield hastily pulled out the handset and spoke into the receiver.
"Deadly, Deadly this is Misfit One Actual Romeo, we're cut off and out of ammo, secondary extract is burned, repeat secondary extract is burned!"
He heard Pelayo give an exasperated snort.
"Fuck! I can see that, jeezus you guys got yourselves in a real shitstorm...Y'know what? Screw this shit, Misfit One Actual stand by, I'll make an LZ..."
In the cockpit Captain Pelayo could see the large crowd of enemy combatants converging on Bradley's position. She flipped down the visor on her crash helmet and toggled a few switches by the multifunction screen on the instrument cluster. Outside, the bulbous FLIR turret mounted on the Sea Hawk's nose flicked to life, its electric eye darting back and forth, mimicking the tracking movements that Pelayo was doing via remote.
Satisfied, the Marine set the Sea Hawk to a hover, then flicked another switch, activating the Navy helo's Rapid Airborne Mine Clearance System, or RAMICS. As a Marine pilot she had been debriefed on and even trained on the experimental weapons platform, but it never made it into mass production, let alone into the Marine Corps arsenal. Bluntly put, it was a massive 30mm autocannon mounted off the external pylons of the Sea Hawk, utilizing the Mk 248 Mod 1 Armor-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding-Sabot Tracer round, the RAMICS was intended to target and neutralize mines at relatively shallow depths.
But, at point-blank range, it was also a very effective close-air support weapon.
As it tracked the inbound enemy QRF, it reminded Pelayo of the M129 40mm grenade launcher on her Cobra gunship. From her scope she moved the targeting reticle over the largest mass of the enemy. When she pulled the trigger there was a slight lag from the BRATATATAT of the autocannon firing to the ground exploding around the enemy force.
Sure enough, it had the desired effect. Whereas before the thirty odd heavily armed swordsmen were advancing on Bradley's position, once the shells started detonating around them the enemy force scattered. Pelayo targeted a few stragglers, then moved the reticle over to the stricken HUMVEE. She heard Bradley's voice in her headset.
"Shit! That was awesome Deadly! Keep it up, those bastards are running scared!"
"Good to know this RAMICS works as close-air support...speaking of which, you real attached to that HUMVEE transport?"
"Negative, take it out if it will buy us enough time to get aboard."
"Roger that, stand by and keep your heads down."
She pulled the trigger, and after a few bursts her scope went white as the HUMVEE exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel. Satisfied, she spoke into her mic.
"Alright gentlemen, you're good to go, I'm coming down."
Bradley watched as the Sea Hawk slowly maneuvered until it was hovering less than a hundred feet off the ground, then slowly lowered to the exact center of the wide city street. The prop wash kicked up a choking amount of dust, any of the guards that were still left fled from the sight of the military helicopter descending. When its wheels kissed the ground Mayfield pulled up his scarf and ran up to the chopper. He pulled on the handle and slid open the side door.
"Everyone in!"
Bradley and Davis took up defensive positions by the door as Connors and Torrez carried Aladdin into the chopper's cabin. Once the package was secured the lieutenant and the medic ran in, then Mayfield jumped in and pounded on the airframe.
"Let's go!"
As the chopper started to rise up, Davis shouted over to Bradley.
"What about Gobbi, sir?"
The lieutenant leaned in so he could be heard.
"We're supposed to rendezvous at the tertiary extract point..."
He pulled out his radio.
"Speaking of which."
The lieutenant switched channels on his radio and keyed the mic.
"Gobbi this is Misfit- I mean this is Lt. Bradley, we are in the air and en route to the rally point, what is your sitch?"
There was nothing, then Bradley repeated.
"Gobbi, this is Lt. Bradley callsign Misfit One Actual, how copy?"
But only static greeted him. All the soldiers had questioning looks on their faces, but it was Torrez who finally spoke up.
"Shit, what the fuck happened to the private?"
(AN: Hehehehe, what indeed? Well, Gobbi decided to play the hero, and now he's gonna find out what happens to those who play the hero in a Disney story...
Apologies for any errors or plot holes, like I said I'll fix `em as soon as possible.
Next chapter should be up within the next week, maybe even by the weekend. Truth be told it was one of the first chapters I wrote when I was conceptualizing this story, so it's like 80% done. Anyways, hopefully you guys have found the whole Black Hawk Down meets Disney entertaining, and if you do find it fun, remember this is only the training mission. The actual 'campaign' story, so to speak, will begin after this mission is wrapped up, and it will be a doozy. Until then, stay tuned!)