(AN: So, here we are. A quick bit before I launch into this new chapter. The fairy tale chapter titles are going to be not SO:TL achievements (as you might have inferred from this new chapter) and they will be about 5-7K words long and updates will be bi-monthly to monthly. This is mostly due to the fact that I have to do research into the particular Disney story and sketch it out so that it meshes nicely with my narrative.
Apart from that, yay! Now we get to get into the Disney-verse and see how much merry havoc the Exiles and the Damned will wreck in it. Starting with...Frozen. I know it sounds weird, paring what amounts to a princess movie geared towards girls and a brutal TPS version of Heart of Darkness/Apocalypse Now, but believe it or not both of them share something in common. They're both rather severe deconstructions of their respective genres, as I've alluded to before Spec Ops: The Line deconstructs all the 'America Saves the Day' tropes of the Call of Duty genre, and Frozen deconstructs many of the traditional Disney fairy tale tropes about Love at First Sight and whatnot. Let's see how Long's Exiles fare, shall we? Not to mention they finally get to confront their 'Damned' counterparts, as well. And trust me, it's not going to be pretty.
On with the show!)
(Location: ? 2134 hours local time)
Elsa thought she would never be afraid again. The former Queen of Arendelle, now the Snow Witch, was cowering in fear in her own palace, a castle of ice that she had constructed on the top of a mountain. She thought that isolating herself from her subjects in Arendelle would mean she would never have to hurt anyone, or see anyone again. All that changed, when those strange men in green showed up. Briefly she thought back to her little sister Ana, and she wondered if she would ever see her again.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud crack! followed by ping! as a bullet ricocheted off the low wall of ice she had conjured up for cover.
(BGM: SO:TL OST 'The Battle')
Fearfully she peered around the corner and the sight that unfolded before her caused her breath to catch in her throat. Her once magnificent palace was now in ruins, explosions had torn large holes in the outer walls, the ornate icy floor was now soaked dark purple with partially congealed blood. Bodies lay strewn about the main floor, the bodies of Prince Hans' henchmen, all dead. All killed by the men in green.
More deafening explosions reverberated throughout the palace's interior, as now the green men were fighting themselves. She coughed as the acrid smell of cordite entered her delicate nostrils, and gagged at the choking stench of death. Elsa could see off in one corner by the main entrance a large puddle where the remains of her guardian, Marshmallow, had been melted by a fire-grenade. She couldn't tell if the men in green were shooting at each other or aiming for her.
One of the men in green looked her way, his face concealed behind a scarf and darkened glasses. Instantly she ducked behind her cover, hoping she hadn't been spotted. But it was a short-lived hope. Elsa heard the man yell out.
"Grenade out!"
A cylindrical grenade clattered at her feet, but before she could react it exploded with a loud bang and a blinding light. Disoriented, she stood up trying to relieve the ringing in her ears and clear her vision. Large spots like purple amoeba swam across her eyes, just in time to see the soldier point his weapon at her. Instinctively she threw up her hands, and let loose a blast of ice.
She shook her head free of the spots, and saw the damage her magic had caused. The soldier's weapon, a short repeating rifle, had a large chunk of ice clogging the barrel. It had also torn away the soldier's scarf and glasses, revealing a boyish visage with olive skin and green eyes. For a moment Elsa wondered how such a youth could be a soldier and a killer, then he turned towards her and she screamed, because it revealed that the other side of his face was horribly burned. The boy frowned, and his scarred face contorted into a ferocious scowl as he snarled out a single word in Albionian.
"Bitch!"
He drew his sidearm, leveling it at her. Elsa saw that her life was hanging by thread, one that was about to be severed. She squared her bare shoulders and stared the young man in the face, trying not to look at his firearm but at the same time not wanting to close her eyes, and awaited her inevitable fate.
And then the soldier was tackled to the ground by another man in green, wearing the exact same clothes, the youth's weapon skidded away on the icy floor. They wrestled on the slippery, cold ground, each scrabbling for the handgun. Her rescuer had initially had almost reached the gun, but then the scarred youth grabbed him. The other soldier turned, and elbowed the youth in the gut, causing him to grunt, and he reached out, pulling off his opponent's scarf in the process. All anger fell from the young soldier's scarred face, his green eyes widened in shock.
"El-Tee? Lt. Bradley?"
2nd Lt. Bradley stared at the 'Damned' soldier, then he recognized him.
"Coop? Pri'at Cooper, is that you?"
Cooper stared at the Exile officer.
"Sir? What the fuck are you doing here?"
Bradley looked down at Cooper's gun in his hand, then back to his UMP-45 that was frozen.
"I could ask the same question, Coop."
The 'Damned' soldier shrugged.
"We're here to complete the mission, sir!"
When Cooper saw Lt. Bradley didn't react, he pointed at Elsa.
"C'mon, sir! You've seen her in action, she's dangerous! She's gotta be put down!"
Bradley frowned at the private.
"Cooper...I'm only going to tell you this once. We're not here to fight you, but nobody's killing her."
"B-but our orders!"
"Your orders were to neutralize a threat. Same orders as mine."
Bradley glanced back at Elsa and his eyes softened.
"But...I can tell you she's not dangerous."
He directed his attention back to Cooper and his expression hardened.
"Ours didn't involve a kill-order."
Cooper was about to respond when the lieutenant's radio crackled to life.
"Misfit One, this is Misfit Three, how copy?"
Bradley keyed his radio.
"Misfit Three this is Misfit One, go ahead."
"Misfit One be advised I have a visual on the ice palace and am inbound, ETA 5 mikes."
The lieutenant stood up and nodded in assent.
"Roger that. I will pop smoke for visual on the secondary extract."
"Solid copy, Misfit Three out."
He looked over to Cooper and pulled the private to his feet.
"In five minutes our ride's gonna be here, along with reinforcements."
Bradley held up the private's M9 and offered it to him butt-first.
"It would behoove you and your companions to fall back."
PFC Cooper glanced over to Elsa, still trembling in fear, then back at Bradley. Finally he accepted his weapon, holstered it, then grabbed his UMP-45. As he turned to leave, the private spoke.
"Sir, just so you know, this isn't over. Wild Bill, that is...Captain Pilton is at the helm of this op, and he's gunning for Long, sir. If you're under the colonel's command, that would put all of you in his sights..."
He paused.
"I'm just sayin' watch yourself out there, sir..."
With that Cooper retreated back to where a dark-skinned soldier was taking cover, and said something to him. Whatever was said had the desired effect, the soldier shouted orders to the rest of his cadre, and the remaining 'Damned' soldiers slowly withdrew from the palace. Elsa was still in shock and watched the last one leave. Then Bradley crouched down to her eye level.
It's okay, our ride's on the way! I'll keep you safe, I promise!"
Elsa just hugged the lieutenant tightly, weeping into his plate carrier. Lt. Bradley just held the sobbing snow witch, surveying the carnage that his Exiles and the Damned had wrought, wondering how in the actual fuck this mission went from bad to worse.
(72 hours earlier, somewhere in a forest in Sheffield, South Yorkshire, 1239 A.D., 0514 hours local time)
SGM Eric Wolfe glared at the assembled soldiers in front of him. Dawn was just starting to break on the horizon over the treeline, and a faint light was creeping into the courtyard where the Exiles were standing in formation. Wolfe glanced over to a tall soldier standing at attention, wearing just warm-ups and a grey Army tee-shirt. Although not in uniform, the man still exuded an air of authority. The sergeant major nodded to Long.
"Sir, by your leave?"
LTC Long smiled and nodded.
"As you were, Sergeant. Carry on."
Wolfe's lined face creased into a slight smile, which disappeared almost as quickly as it came. He directed his attention to the rest of the Exiles, and he glared at them.
"Alright you buncha fucknuts, listen up! This morning we got a full dance card, starting with some warm-up PT, and then we're going into range practice."
He stood at attention.
"Platoon, Left...Face! Double-time around the courtyard...Go!"
As the Exiles started at a brisk pace doing laps around the castle's courtyard, Wolfe continued to bark out in his best drill sergeant voice.
"Lt. Bradley, Torrez, Mayfield, Connors and Davis! Ol' Spinach Chin told me you idiots burned through over a thousand rounds of ammo in that last cluster fuck in Agabrah! That was fuckin' stupid! The enemy got the drop on you lot because you fuckheads ran out of ammunition!"
He paused in his rant.
"Staff Sar'ent Connors, move your fat ass and keep up with the rest of the formation! An' you Davis quit laughing, or I'll smoke your ass until these stone walls sweat!"
He directed his wrath at Gunnery Sergeant Jackson.
"Gunny Jackson, slow the fuck down! You're embarrassing my men!"
He saw the Marine smirk.
"An' wipe that grin off your face, Jarhead!"
Wolfe then continued with his bellowing rant.
"...If you shitstains had good weapons discipline and were maintaining the Grooming Standards those hajis wouldn't have had a snowball's chance in Basrah!"
When the Exiles had finished a full five laps around the courtyard Wolfe gave the order to stop. All of them were puffing and sweating, in spite of it being a cool English summer morning. Even LTC Long was breathing hard, leaning against Major Gavin. The major for his part, aside from a small bead of sweat, was in good spirits and joking with Jackson about taking a nice morning stroll. Wolfe interrupted them all.
"Alright, ladies! Take a knee, drink some water and change your socks! We're gonna do target practice in five!"
He looked over to PFC Pete Gobbi, who was wheezing and struggling for breath.
"Pri'at Gobbi! You're up first, since you're the hero of this epic clusterfuck tale. We're gonna start with rifle range practice so grab your weapon!"
Gobbi glanced about him.
"Sergeant Major! I forgot my weapon!"
Wolfe glared at the private.
"Forgot your weapon?! Did you forget your head, or your cock and balls when you woke up this morning?"
He sighed in exasperation, then glanced over to PFC Mayfield who was wearing black utes, black tactical boots and a matching tee shirt. The private had been given his Zulu Squad kit from Merlin the night before, when he questioned on the particulars of how the wizard obtained them Merlin had demurred, but Mayfield was just happy to have his armor back.
"Private Mayfield, lend Pri'at Gobbi your weapon!"
Mayfield nodded.
"Roger that, Sarge!"
Gobbi walked over and accepted Mayfield's SCAR-H, then made his way over to the target practice range, consisting of a set of old rusty suits of armor down range on the far end of the courtyard. But as the young private took his first step he tripped over an overgrown root, falling and accidentally discharging the assault-rifle's underslung grenade launcher. The RPG fired with a loud thump, sent it's explosive missile sailing in an arc and landing at the base of the castle's tallest turret. The rickety structure shuddered, waking up the tower's sole inhabitant.
Inside the tower, Merlin stirred in his bed, and woke up in a daze. He mumbled absentmindedly.
W-What? Archimedes, wh- where are we?"
His owl familiar pulled himself out of his overturned birdhouse with some difficulty.
"In a tumbled-down old tower in the most miserable castle in all of Christendom, surrounded by violent and vulgar soldiers from 21st century America. At your invitation, I may add!"
Merlin, still in a daze, muttered to himself.
"The...castle?"
Archimedes glared at the wizard and folded his wings in exasperation.
"Don't you even remember inviting the Damned 33rd here?"
"The Damned...33rd?"
SGM Wolfe's voice carried up from the courtyard.
"Dammit dumbass! Can't you remember anything?"
Merlin frowned at his owl familiar.
"I say, that was uncalled for!"
Wolfe's voice continued.
"Private, that safety should be on at all times! You secure that weapon immediately or else I will have you sweeping the dust out of this courtyard until it's clean is that clear?!"
Comprehension dawned on Merlin's face.
"Oh, yes the Damned 33rd."
He got out of bed and made his way over to the window. Down in the courtyard the 33rd were practicing their sharpshooting skills. The crack! of weapons being discharged echoed upwards towards Merlin's vantage point in the tower. He chuckled to himself.
"Well, it would appear that the Damned 33rd are preparing for their next assignment, but I wonder if their next assignment is ready for them."
(3 hours later)
When Merlin finally appeared in the castle's grand hall, the Exiles were already at breakfast, consisting of large steaming bowls of hearty porridge laced with bits of sausage. He noted with amusement that Major Gavin was passing several bottles of Tabasco sauce for seasoning purposes. LTC Long noticed the wizard first and stood up.
"Good morning sir! Come to join us for breakfast?"
Merlin smiled and shook his head, while his owl familiar perched on his pointed hat hooted indignantly and flew off.
"No, thank you although I would like to join your company all the same."
He directed his attention to PFC Gobbi.
"But first I need to borrow your Private Gobbi for about five minutes, if that is alright."
Long nodded and the young private finished off his bowl and stood up.
"Roger that, sir!"
The wizard smiled.
"Please, it's just Merlin. And this won't take long."
The private grabbed his barracks cover and made his way up the stairs to where Merlin was standing.
"Hey Merlin! Y'know Miss Tinny-er I mean the Weaver of Fate? I actually saw her in my dreams last night!"
The wizard chuckled indulgently.
"Really? And what did She say do you, my boy?"
Gobbi continued excitedly.
"Well, actually it was what she showed me, sir! I got to see Iceman-I mean Sergeant Crosby. Apparently he's in another magical place where he gets to be the hero."
LTC Long raised an eyebrow.
"You are of course referring to our battalion 1SG Crosby, not someone else?"
The private grinned.
"Yep, apparently he's in one of those worlds like in those Japanese cartoons that PVT. Heiner liked to watch. Y'know, the harem shows where tons of busty chicks fight over a lucky guy?"
Davis spoke up.
"I call bullshit, Gobbi! Ol' Iceman wouldn't fall for that shit!"
Gobbi shook his head.
"Ain't no bullshit, Corey. Crosby was there, real as I am standin' here, in his Zulu Squad kit an' everything!"
He grinned.
"As a matter of fact, I think the Weaver's carryin' a torch for the 1st Sar'ent...lucky guy."
Merlin then smiled at Gobbi.
"Was there anything else?"
Gobbi rubbed the back of his shaved head nervously.
"Uh...yeah, somehow that princess from Agrabah found me, an' I had to disappear for a bit..."
He shook his head.
"Crazy how that gal was able to find me, good thing she didn't."
The wizard's smile broadened.
"Well, as it turns out, she did find you, Private Gobbi."
The private's face blanched at the wizard's revelation, but Merlin held up a reassuring hand.
"Not to worry, my boy, everything will be fine."
With that, Merlin stepped aside, revealing two new arrivals to the grand hall. At first Gobbi didn't recognize the couple, as they were wearing resplendent silk robes embroidered in gold and embellished with purple accents. The girl approached him, and Gobbi finally registered who it was.
Princess Jasmine was as beautiful as ever, her skin glittered and exuded an aroma of fine perfumes and spices, her face fully made up and as captivating as ever. She smiled at the private and spoke in a musical voice.
"Pete Gobbi of the rank of Private First Class, it gladdens my heart to finally see thee again..."
She reached out and stroked his cheek. Her full red lips pursed slightly as she continued.
"I...I am not certain how to say this softly to thee, my lovely fair-skinned farangī..."
She glanced back at her companion, whom Gobbi recognized as the street-thief. Like the princess he was clad in fine silk robes and looked more like a sultan than a thief. Aladdin gave him a sheepish wave.
"Good to see you again, effendi. And I am sorry for trying to slash you with that sword."
Gobbi was still trying to process this when he felt a small hand gently turn his face away. Now having his undivided attention, the princess continued.
"I know thou didst want me, Pete Gobbi of the rank of Private First Class. But I am afraid that the buds of our romance will never have the chance blossom. I hope thou canst forgive me."
She glanced over to Aladdin.
"The diamond in the rough that thou spokest of has proven himself to me, and we art to be unified in wedlock."
The princess smiled and leaned in, assaulting Gobbi with her feminine scent and the various perfumes on her skin.
"But we will always have our time in my private chambers."
Apparently Aladdin heard that comment, because the young man frowned at Gobbi.
"What was that?! Did you take her virtue?!"
Princess Jasmine turned sharply towards her beloved, and her perfect features creased into a frown.
"Hush! Or thou will not taste the sweetest nectar of my peach in our wedding chamber this night!"
Aladdin started to say something, but then the princess glared at him, and he relented. Torrez and Davis exchanged an knowing look.
"Not even married yet and she's got his balls in her purse..."
Davis chuckled.
"Yep, I guess we know who's gonna be wearin' the pantaloons in that household..."
The princess nodded in satisfaction, then turned her attention back to Gobbi, and her hazel eyes softened.
"Can'st thou forgivest me for breaking thy heart, my lovely fair-skinned boy?"
Gobbi glanced behind him and saw Torrez and Davis with big shit-eating grins on their faces, doing their best impression of a peanut gallery. He also saw that Lt. Bradley and SSG Connors shaking their heads and chuckling to themselves. Even LTC Long couldn't help but smile. The only one who wasn't grinning was SGM Wolfe, who had his usual dour expression and looking as he was sucking on a particularly sour lemon. Gobbi looked back at the beautiful princess in front of him and finally found his voice.
"Uhh...okay. Yeah, cool no worries. I'll get over it."
She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"It gladdens me that this burden has been lifted from my heart. Farewell, Pete Gobbi of the rank of Private First Class."
With that the princess turned to Merlin.
"Soothsayer, thou mayest transport me and my beloved back to our world, and I thank thee for granting me this favor."
Merlin gave a low bow.
"It was my pleasure, your majesty."
Merlin raised his wand and after uttering an incantation the couple disappeared, leaving the 33rd to razz and poke fun at Gobbi. Davis was the first and nudged the private in the ribs.
"Man, way to go my man Pete! She's smoking hot!"
He gave Gobbi a lecherous grin.
"Although I still would have at least asked for a parting five minute smash quickie...or at least take her back to the Porta-John for a gloryhole BJ."
Mayfield chimed in.
"...Or at least a handjob, Jeezus fuck Pete you sure you don't have the hots for Aladdin instead of her?"
Gobbi shook his head and went back to his place at the table.
"Fuck you, guys."
Merlin watched the vulgar exchange, still chuckling with amusement. Finally he descended and took a seat next to Long. The leader of the Exiles nodded at the wizard.
"You sure you don't want some chow?"
The wizard shook his head.
"No, although I did want to debrief you on your next mission, if you don't mind."
Long pushed away his finished bowl and took a sip from a pewter tankard of ale. He made a face, apparently English ale was still a bit strong for American stomachs. He coughed and set down his tankard, then looked over to Wolfe. The sergeant major gave a small nod, then barked out an order to the other soldiers at the table.
"Exiles! Quit stuffing your faces, put down your utensils, close your suck-holes and open up the holes in the sides of your brain housing group!"
When the table fell silent, Long nodded to Merlin.
"Go ahead and fill me in."
Merlin pulled out his pipe and began lighting it.
"This particular mission, unlike your training mission, involves diplomacy and protection."
He finished lighting his pipe and blew a few smoke rings.
"Make no mistake about it, gentlemen. Lives hang in the balance, and in this case there is no reset button or do-over."
The grand hall was filled with a heavy silence, but it was SGM Wolfe that broke by speaking up.
"What're we up against, Spinach-Chin?"
Merlin chuckled at the older NCO's jib, and continued.
"There is a young lady who has lost her parents, left to care for her younger sister. She is feeling very isolated and is extremely vulnerable."
The wizard glanced down at the mouthpiece of his pipe.
"Oh, and there is the small affair of the fact that she is also about to crowned queen of her kingdom."
Long nodded slowly.
"Okay, so why not just call on her royal guards, why bring us in?"
Merlin continued.
"She also has a certain...infirmity, one that her enemies will exploit and utilize to seize control. This mission requires men who have experience with protection detail and preventing assassinations, as well as diplomacy."
He looked directly at Long.
"It is up to you to lead your men in this mission, to thwart her enemies and keep her safe from all threats."
The wizard paused.
"I should also point out that there will be certain...individual challenges for you in this mission."
His gaze briefly fell on Lt. Bradley, then on Mayfield, and then finally on Long.
"Each of you will be tested, and it is imperative that you not only follow your training, but also your instincts."
Merlin then reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a large scroll. He placed it in front of Long.
"This scroll contains all the mission intelligence that has been gathered up to this point, and it will be an aid to you in your mission. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is that you succeed."
He stood up.
"Unfortunately I cannot intervene in this mission if it goes pear-shaped, gentlemen. The best I can do is extricate you and let the story take its course. I warn you against using that option unless it's absolutely necessary."
A smile then spread across Merlin's face.
"But don't worry, the Lady and I have faith that you will complete your mission."
He turned to leave.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see to the Wart's tutoring..."
With that, the wizard disappeared in a puff of smoke. Long opened the scroll and began perusing its contents. He then turned to Wolfe.
"Sergeant Major, have the men assemble at our rally point in five mikes!"
(5 minutes later...)
LTC Long pushed open the heavy door that opened into the castle's main courtyard. Carefully he tucked the scroll into one of the pockets of his ACU blouse, then made his way down the steps. In one corner of the courtyard his men the Exiles were assembled, next to their equipment, in this case an SH-60 Sea Hawk helicopter and a HUMVEE. The colonel saw SGM Wolfe approach and give him a salute.
"Sir, the men are assembled and ready for mission debriefing."
Long returned the salute and gestured to the castle around them.
"Sir Ector was sure generous in lending us the castle as a staging ground for our mission."
He heard Wolfe give a snort.
"You don't share my enthusiasm, sergeant major?"
Wolfe shook his head.
"Permission to speak freely, sir."
"Granted."
"With all due respect sir, this drafty dump is about ready to fall in. Hell, I think the only reason that tower is still standing is due to that old goat's magic."
He looked about.
"And I can't even imagine how much it's gonna cost to keep this pile of rocks heated in the winter."
Long nodded.
"Well, it's not much different from FOB Charlie in the Kandahar province in Afghanistan, then isn't it?"
That elicited a small smile from the senior NCO, and he fell in behind Long as the Exiles' leader strode up to address his men. Long noted that all of them were in their full battle rattle, including Connors, who was wearing his Heavy Trooper armor, and Mayfield who was wearing his Zulu Squad kit. A brief uncomfortable flashback tickled the back of Long's consciousness as he recalled his capture, but he pushed it aside as Wolfe barked out a command.
"Platoon, Atten...Huit!"
All the soldiers stood at attention. Long spoke up.
"As you were, gentlemen."
Long pulled out his scroll and began debriefing his men.
"...And as far as I can tell this is a cut and dry asset protection detail. We go in under cover before the ceremony, set up a recon and protect."
SSG Connors spoke up.
"Who or what are we up against, sir?"
Long shook his head.
"This intel's pretty spotty on the exact details, but Arendelle is a small kingdom rich in natural resources like ice harvesting, fishing and gold mining, to name a few. Apparently there are more than a few people that wouldn't mind overthrowing a vulnerable princess and folding Arendelle into their empire."
Gobbi spoke up.
"We're not gonna havta kill anyone, are we sir?"
The leader of the Exiles shrugged.
"I hope not, but at the end of the day we have to protect the princess and make sure whoever tries to make an attempt on the new queen's life is thwarted."
He turned to Lt. Bradley.
"I'm going to put Bradley in charge, you have full leeway to execute this mission, the only order I am giving you is I am issuing you a no-kill order."
He paused.
"Unless the princess's life is in danger you are to use less-lethal force, and even in the event that someone makes an attempt on her life you are to shoot to wound and do everything you can to minimize casualties, is that clear?"
Bradley saluted.
"Yes, sir!"
CSM Wolfe nodded.
"Aside from the loot, who do you want to bring on board, sir?"
Long scratched the stubble on his chin.
"Honestly I though this could be a three man job, tops, but the old man wants it to be an all-hands-on-deck mission."
Gobbi piped up.
"Seems a bit excessive, sir."
Wolfe spoke up as well.
"I'm in agreement with the pri'at, sir. Unless that old goat knows something we don't."
Long shook his head.
"Merlin swears its on the level, but you know him."
He looked over to the three privates.
"Gobbi, you're to infiltrate as a guest and be Mayfield's eyes and ears on the ground during the coronation. Mayfield, as our resident sniper I want you to infiltrate the stave church where the coronation is to take place. Find a hiding place, like the rafters, and keep your eyes open for any assassins. Davis, as a medic I want you on hand in case things go south. I don't want to leave anything to chance."
He looked over to Jackson and Connors.
"I want you two in reserve in case the princess's enemies try something stupid like a full-on frontal assault. If that happens, I want you to lay down supressing fire until Gobbi and Davis have managed to exfil our asset, understood?"
Connors and Jackson saluted.
"Roger that, sir!"
He saw the pilot approach him. Captain Pelayo was the lone female and the other Marine apart from Jackson in the group. Until Long and the sergeant major showed up she was also the ranking officer and unwilling 'team-mom' during the Exiles' disastrous training mission. She gave a salute to Long.
"Sir, I would like permission to sit this mission out."
Long glanced down at the female Marine's attire. She was still wearing her revealing harem outfit that she wore to infiltrate the palace. He gave Pelayo a friendly smile.
"Don't like the company, Captain?"
Pelayo snorted.
"Negative, sir just the last mission left a bad taste in my mouth. Let's just say my fun meter's pegged, sir."
The colonel grinned.
"Fair enough."
He turned to Torrez.
"Sergeant, it means you're stepping up as our pilot."
Torrez grinned.
"Roger that, sir!"
Pelayo glared at the sergeant.
"If you put so much as a scratch on my baby I'll take my KABAR and carve the EGA on your ass, sergeant!"
Torrez laughed.
"Sounds kinky, Capt'n!"
The female Marine snorted, but didn't respond. She turned back to LTC Long.
"Sir, if you don't need me for anything else, I'll be off. I'm freezing my tits off in this fuckin' outfit."
Long, still grinning, nodded.
"Dismissed, Captain."
The leader of the Exiles turned his attention back to his men, who were chuckling and some even giving wolf-whistles to the Marine as she left. Pelayo just flipped them off as she left. Long cleared his throat.
"Alright that's enough. Now, Merlin has also arranged for King Arthur send with us lucrative trading rights, as a cover story."
He glanced over to Torrez.
"He's also going to conjure up a nice thunderstorm as a cover for our transportation to enter Arendelle airspace without causing any alarms, thing you can handle it?"
Torrez shrugged.
"Considering I had to fly a Little Bird through those sandstorms in Dubai, this'll be nothing!"
Satisfied, Long then looked over to CSM Wolfe.
"Sar'ent Major, I want you and Lt. Bradley to pose as King Arthur's ambassador so we can get into the party after the coronation."
Wolfe shrugged.
"S'long as I don't have to wear pantyhose and a ruff I'm fine with that, sir."
Long nodded, then glanced at his watch.
"Alright, well according to Merlin our mission will execute at 1300 hours tomorrow, which means you all are at liberty until then."
Lt. Bradley stepped forward.
"Um sir?"
"Yes, lieutenant?"
"Ah, Colonel Long, the men were wondering if we could be granted leave...apparently there's a village not far from here called Edwinstowe...apparently it's got a tavern, sir."
Comprehension spread across Long's face.
"Aha, and you gents want to party it up before the mission, is that it?"
Bradley nodded sheepishly.
"Yessir, that's it."
Long turned to Wolfe.
"What do you think, sergeant major?"
The old NCO chewed on his lower lip.
"Honestly sir, I think it's a bad idea. If this mission is critical we don't need our boys going in with hangovers."
Long chuckled.
"Then just make sure you give them a safety briefing, sergeant major."
He turned to leave.
"Anyways, permission granted, but standard leave rules apply. Just make sure they're aware of it."
Wolfe opened his mouth to object, but then finally just nodded and saluted.
"Roger that, sir."
He watched as Long climbed the steps back up to the castle's entrance, then turned to address the men.
"A'ight maggots…form up a horse-shoe and tune in those holes on the side of your brain housing group."
Wolfe watched as the Exiles gathered around him.
"Against my better judgement I am granting you mouthbreathers leave, but before you go I am supposed to give you your weekend safety briefing..."
He paused and frowned.
"You know what, I don't feel like wasting the oxygen on you fucksticks..."
He turned towards the Marine standing off to the side.
"Gunnery Sergeant Jackson! Front and center! Quick, fast and in a hurry, yoohoo!"
Jackson smirked and barked out a reply.
"Aye-Aye, Sar'ent Major!"
The Marine quickly formed up and stood at attention in front of Wolfe. The senior NCO spoke up.
"Gunny, you've given libo briefing before right?"
"Absolutely!"
"Then brief these fucknuts, and don't spare the rod."
"Roger that, Sar'ent Major!"
Jackson turned to the assembled soldiers and barked out in his best NCO voice.
"A'ight you fucking boot-ass Army gruntshits, listen up! Weekend Libo is here and all I wanna do is pound down some beers and pound some hot Celtic chicks, and I can't do that staring at you meatsack-gazing malingering malconents...so I'm gonna keep this weekend safety briefing brief...
"We've got a nice little hamlet not far from here known for having good ale in its taverns an' the place where Robin Hood closed the deal on Maid Marian. It's a clean and pretty, so let's keep it that way and leave it that way. If you're gonna drink, don't drive, if you're gonna drive don't drink. Don't do drugs, and if it don't look right, smell right or feel right, don't eat it. If you try to shack up with the local wimmen of ill reput, wear MOPP 4 gear, or you'll be payin' for it later. Seriously, wrap it before you tap it. Don't need the colonel's warfighters catching the clap or the drip..."
Torrez piped up.
"C'mon Gunny! Make it extra salty!"
"Torrez, shut the fuck up, if you interrupt me again with your daggone lip you're gonna have to learn to respond to orders from with your balls wedged between your tonsils...now where was I? Oh yes...
"Payday weekend is here…I don't want to hear you whining on Monday when your wallet is empty and that 3-kid stripper downrange is pregnant. If ya ain't careful, you will be broke and paying child-support until you ETS. And while we're on the subject, I don't give a shit what she says, the stripper doesn't love you, so don't do stupid shit like go off and marry her. This ain't a fucking fairy tale..."
The men chuckled at the Marine's quip.
"If you get into a fight, an' I'm lookin' at you Torrez, beat the mutherfucker's ass, but don't be leavin' no evidence. If I have to get up at 0200 to bail you out of the drunk tank I'm bringing an ass-whooping with me. Don't accidentally seduce the princess away from her intended love interest, I'm lookin' at you Pri'at Prince Charming Gobbi, and if you do don't come back here, we'll disavow your stupid ass. Don't get drunk and do stupid shit like swan diving naked in a kiddie pool of sriracha, I'm lookin' at your big black ass, Connors!"
"But sarge!"
Jackson grinned.
"Bitch, shaddup...And while we're on the topic of booze and bad decisions, don't be trying to peddle your gear to the locals as 'magic stuff', and I'm lookin' at you, Davis!"
"Come on Gunny, I've got penicillin, think of how many dicks it'll save!"
"Only cock you should be thinking about is your own, Davis. No selling any of your gear, that's an Article 15 offense as that shit doesn't belong to you, it belongs to the United States Army and by that extension the Damned 33rd."
Jackson grinned and mimicked Wolfe's gruff voice.
"...And for the love of Kerrist po-lease them cunt hairs off your pimply-ass face!"
Davis laughed.
"C'mon Gunny, I'm growing out a beard to be manly like you!"
"Well, you don't...you look like a teenaged emo cockholster who 69'd her girlfriend and got some of her lunch stuck on her chin. Police that shit, I ain't sayin' it again."
"Roger that, Gunny!"
Jackson took a step back, standing next to Wolfe.
"A'ight boots, that's all I got. Do whatever you want this weekend, but come 0500 tomorrow morning I want all the strippers, midgets, clown porn and KY Jelly out of the barracks and all of you shitstains in formation fifteen minutes prior. An' Pri'at Gobbi, since you're the star of the show you get to show up fifteen minutes prior to fifteen minutes prior, understood? Good. Alright Dis-Missed! fuckers, get outta my sight!"
As the men filed away, Wolfe shook his head.
"I gotta bad feelin' about this..."
(Meanwhile, the Arendelle Royal Palace)
Elsa was alone in her chambers, she had dismissed her guards, and thankfully her sister was busy preparing for the royal coronation ball. Occupying one wall of her chamber was a large ornate cabinet. On top of it, resting on a purple satin pillow, sat a golden scepter and a orb filigreed in gold and decorated with diamonds and sapphires. Slowly she removed the long black velveteen gloves from her hands and reached out. Very gingerly she touched the scepter, and when nothing happened, she picked it up in one hand, and the orb in the other.
She breathed a sigh of relief, but then she noticed small ice crystals forming on the scepter, and to her horror saw that the orb was almost encased in ice. Quickly she set both the badges of her office back on their pillow, and took deep breaths to slow down her hyperventilating. She had less than two days before her coronation, and in order to do that she had to hold her father's scepter and her mother's orb. It was the final stage that crowned her queen of Arendelle. It meant she had to get her powers under control by then.
"Come on, Elsa, you can do it."
She made her way over to her window and flung open the shutters, letting in the morning light. She took a deep breath, and could feel her heartbeat slowing down. As she gazed out the window, Elsa saw a thunderhead in the distance. A storm was brewing over the ocean, and as she glazed at it Elsa felt a cold shiver down her spine as a feeling of ominous dread came over her.
(AN: So, there you have it, a small taste of things to come. I apologize for this chapter taking so long, I had to do some cutting and had to re-watch Frozen to get some details down. Next chapter will introduce the Damned to their mission as well. Let's hope the Damned 33rd doesn't leave too many bodies in its wake in Arendelle. Well, if you want to find out more then stay tuned and don't forget to fav/follow and comment!)