Chapter 36: The Two Generations

November 3rd 2010 0630 Hours

Aboard the Fruition, The Red Sea, Saudi Territorial Waters

It had been a few weeks since our little trip to Japan and our quick stay in the Bahama's. Once again, we got a bit of a reprieve from the more stressful applications of our work and returned to normal deliveries. We linked up with the Fruition in Italy and then began another lengthy voyage to parts unknown. Our cargo hold was a bit more full than usual, looked like more orders had come in and there was too much to take across land or fly by plane. So we all took the time we had to adjust or catch up with the normal things in our personal lives. Living on a ship, while limited in going places, had its perks when you needed time to yourself.

Or in the case of me and Sophia it was more time for us to bond. We had both come a long way from me not really caring about the crew in the least when Kasper sent me to Koko, to Sophia wanting an excuse to gut me open based on either principle or thinking I was Koko's new favorite. But speaking of her, it looked like she still didn't want to give up on winning over my affection even after I turned her down before we got ambushed in Budapest. But I think I kind of unintentionally rekindled that spark with that kiss I gave her and it continued to steadily grow. I was only thinking of making sure that she got away because Hex was after me not her. I made a judgment call, a short term one, and I didn't think about the long term consequences. Every now and then when Sophia wasn't around she would lean on me a little more than usual, hold my hands tighter, or charm me with a little more than her usual charisma. The scary thing was that it was working a little bit, and as much as it seems like some of the crew peg me as a total ladies man they couldn't be more wrong. Until I started opening up more when I landed with Koko I was always stand offish. I simply acknowledged that someone was there and that was it, nothing more. But after the many exciting events of the year, I've begun to connect with others in a way I had never done before. True bonds based on comradeship, sacrifice, and blood. But it was only with Sophia in which I formed it on an intimate level with her and I wanted to maintain it. As much as I care about Koko I can't run the risk of ruining the greatest thing she's ever done for me, giving me my life back. She's stunningly beautiful, amazingly funny, highly intelligent, and fiercely brave despite the extremely dangerous hazards of being an arms dealer. But Sophia and I connected on a deeper level, something we formed on our trip through Africa on our hunt for Chan. We both fought together against odds that were clearly not in our favor, we both almost died trying to save each other, and we both found comfort in each other once the storm had passed. And also for an honorable mention we both felt like we were about to shit ourselves once we got back to Koko to face her wrath of us running off without saying anything.

Suffice it to say that I had a lot going through my head this morning when I finally decided to open my eyes. For some strange reason I think about so much random stuff when I wake up I don't really want to get out of bed until I either have enough focus or I want to. But coffee can also be a big motivator, especially since you don't need to walk all the way to the galley to brew some for the morning when you have a brewer in your cabin. As I leaned up and sat on the side of the bed I paused before standing up to turn to her. She was still sleeping soundly facing the wall of the cabin along with a bit of a quiet snore. With wearing nothing up top I saw that even though that her tattoo managed to get fixed pretty well from where she got shot, the scars from the bullets and surgery were still visible only if you got close enough. It took me a while but I finally figured out what it meant, "Hakkaa Paalle", or "Cut Them Down" in Finnish. A term that was originated by Finnish cavalry when they were still under the Kingdom of Sweden during the Thirty Years War. One of the bloodiest religious wars in history between the Catholics and Protestants. The hand that held the saber represented the cavalry and the crucifix and wings were a representation of the Protestant faith. Kind of strange though that she would choose that since she didn't really practice any kind of faith, but then again I only talk to God if I have to. I then gently stroked her hair once before standing up, I put on my shorts, walked over to my laptop and let it boot up while I poured myself a mug.

Before I logged in to make sure I got paid a few days ago I noticed that my camera wasn't in its drawer, I didn't upload my pictures from the Bahama's yet. I would do that after I was done with checking my Swiss accounts. While the Swiss did well in protecting the privacy of a client, I was hearing some rumors that they were starting to turn away from American's setting up accounts with them because of the US Justice Department wanting to find the financial flow of money from criminal organizations to those that done their business practices in some legally questionable means. So it was actually a good thing that when I began to sign up for one I used a the fake identity of a British businessman. I punched in my passwords and the number was what I expected it to be, an eight-figure total. With being on move so much and constantly working I only spent what was necessary like travel, lodging and food. Only times I actually cranked out large amounts was when I would by a gun or a piece of gear and in all reality, it didn't really make much of a dent in my wallet. The only time I really saved up was when I had to get a bunch of forged ID's to get out of Pakistan and after I left Turkey it grew to where I had so much that any normal man my age wouldn't know what to do with it. While I was anything but normal, it was in the literal sense that I did not know what to do with this much money at my disposal. But one thing that struck me as odd was that I was paid more than what I should have this month, about $100,000 more. My thoughts then led back to one person, Koko.

"No surprise." I said as I took my first sip of coffee.

"What's not a surprise?" Sophia said wrapping her arms around my neck from behind. Still not wearing anything up to from what I could feel against my bare skin.

"That short of buying an island, a New York penthouse, or Saddam Hussein's super yacht I don't think I'm ever gonna get rid of what I got except for giving it all away or burning it."

As I lied to throw her off of what I was really thinking Sophia looked towards the screen and her eye widened in awe.

"How did you get that much money?" She asked somewhat concerned.

"Being constantly on the move while working didn't really give me much time to go spend any of it. You've seen what I own, I only had like two or three outfits besides my tactical gear when I first joined up with you guys. Everything else in some way or another was connected with the job."

She then looked and me and smirked. "Well now you don't have to worry about that anymore."

I smirked back and handed her my mug, she needed the coffee just as bad as I did. I then closed out my account and plugged my camera in to load up my pictures.

But in my half-asleep state I forgot that there were a few pictures I didn't really want her to see. They were the candid ones I took of her when she wasn't looking. We both saw the first one at the same time so I couldn't really play it off.

"There a reason why you have this one of me?" She said pointing at the screen with her other arm around my neck getting tight.

It was actually a nice one. She had just gotten out of the water and walked onto a large rock next to the shore under a few palm trees. Slightly turned away as if she was walking away from me but her tattoo and her good eye were facing in the direction of the camera as she was moving her wet hair behind her ear. I had no way out of this one so I dove into my sarcastic side, it was a fifty fifty chance on whether the outcome would be good or bad.

"I was thinking of sending this to Sports Illustrated. See if this would make the cover page for the swimsuit issue."

Three tense seconds passed.

"Hmm. I figured you would have said either Playboy or Penthouse."

Bullet dodged.

"Now that would be too easy."

She didn't however loosen her grip on me but thankfully my phone started to buzz. On it was a text from Koko, but as I read what it stated my heart stopped. I then set it back down on my desk gently and took a deep breath.

"Everything ok?" She asked.

"No." I said honestly and then looked to her. "She said she'd let me know first but it looks like it's both of us. And it's kinda funny that I would mention Saddam. Guess where we're heading to next."

November 8th 2010 0900 Hours

Kuwait City, Kuwait

The sun. The burning, suffocating, excruciating sun. Even as I was in the shade of a shipping container it didn't help in the least from the environment of one of the hottest countries on Earth. Normally around this time of the year Kuwait's long summer ends but today it looked like it wanted one last opportunity to roast its new guests. The nights would not really fair much better either because as it approaches the winter months, on average it would plummet to even below freezing. Frying and freezing at the same time seems to be God's way of coming up with a third category of temperature.

As the last of the containers were loaded up onto the semi-trucks I noticed that my sunglasses were starting to fog up from my sweat again. Since my Under Armor shirt was no good cause it was nearly soaked in sweat I took out a black balaclava from my cargo pants to wipe them off. It wasn't much of a disguise but considering where we were going I could not take the chance that someone would get a candid shot of me. Granted regular US military forces wouldn't be that clued in on who I was, but the CIA still had a presence in the new and twisted version of the Wild West that Iraq had devolved into. Just because this 'Bookman' guy had decided to look the other way it he, or the rest of the CIA, wouldn't do it again if they had a lead on me. I was still partially responsible for the slaughter of a SAD unit and I executed one of their agents. They had to have known that Hex was dead by now and they wouldn't give up the hunt just yet. The weird thing though was why were they so interested in Koko that they would give up an opportunity to make an easy bag and tag. As I was keeping an eye out on her while she was hammering out the final details to the harbor master, I saw a bottle of water come flying in my direction. I caught it by instinct.

"Not having you fall out because of a heat stroke kid, drink up." Lehm said, cigarette in his mouth as usual.

"Smoking ain't that much better either old man." I said as I saw Koko give the rallying signal to us.

The rest of us weren't baring much better from the heat either as we approached her with our gear in tow. Karl and Sophia seemed to be at their limits because of them being so used to European cold climates. Mao was even having trouble despite the fact of him being from Laos where it's always this hot. But weather or no weather we had a delivery to make, and this one was a little different from our usual rounds. As Koko would be giving the final brief before we moved out.

"Ok guys I'll make this short and sweet so we can get into the trucks and turn the air conditioning on all the way to below zero."

Ugh. We might get that anyway the moment the sun goes down.

She then took a chug from her own quart of water and wiped the sweat off her forehead before starting.

"As you all know at least every once and a while we gotta uphold HCLI's public image by doing a bit of humanitarian work. And this time unlike our little trip to Serbia this one has been properly planned out. We'll be travelling by ourselves until we hit the border at Safwan where we'll hook up with our escort. From there on in until we leave Iraq we'll be armed 24/7. We'll then resupply and refuel at Basrah and from there it's a straight shot all the way to Nasiriyah. It's no secret that the US has had it rough these last few years on trying to make that cesspit into a country and they're still failing gloriously. But they'll have our routes cleared out by the time we get there, that doesn't mean that we won't be under threat. Our job has nothing to do with politics, it's just to get the materials needed for a school where it needs to go. If you have any questions make it quick, we've been on the clock the moment we put into port."

Ugo raised his hand and spoke quickly. "What do you mean 'escort' boss? You got us."

"I'm afraid I don't have a choice this time. There's too many vehicles and not enough personnel to cover all of them. We're gonna need some help this time. It was a little short notice so I placed a call into a British PMC two days before we made port. Their company name is called Excalibur. If anything else we'll talk about it on the radio once were on the road. Let's move out!"

"Kaaaay." We all said.

I had always known that one way or another that I would eventually wind up in Iraq one day, I was kinda hoping that I'd do it while still in uniform though. But considering how it had turned out, I'm awfully glad I hadn't. I felt funny though that I would be going to same place my dad was twice, his first time when he was a Sergeant nineteen years ago and his second when he was a Lieutenant Colonel seven years ago. When he called me that he had to go for another tour, not too long after he got his first star, as an advisory role when I was still in West Point I could tell by the tone in his voice that he wasn't too pleased. Not because of him getting back into the field, but because they needed men to fix the problem of why peace and rebuilding had instead become IED's and chaos. I couldn't blame him, you didn't need be a soldier to tell how tactically, strategically, and even politically stupid it was to go into the same country twice in the span of little more than a decade. And considering the direction of which we were going, it was gonna be on a piece of history as well. One where it was a rather bloody and indiscriminate turkey shoot.

1116 Hours

Highway 80, Seven Miles till the Iraqi Border

There comes a time for every career military man or woman where they have to explain to their child, if they have any, what it is they really do and what is war. There are a hundred different answers for that but they stem from the two things that is the sole purpose of any nations military, kill people and break things. However before dad could do this, I sort of caught my first glimpse of it on CNN when I was only five. It was covering the story of the initial start of Operation: Desert Storm with the green night vision cameras of the anti-aircraft fire over Baghdad. At the time we had lived at Ft. Bragg and dad had now become Airborne Infantry and was part of the 82nd. I was watching it with my mother and I never forgot the look she had, fear. Fear that dad wouldn't come back and that he was heading into a fight that would seem like Vietnam all over again or maybe even Korea. Granted any normal military spouse would do this and it was my dad's first combat deployment as when he arrived with the 82nd he didn't go with them to Panama because we had just gotten to Bragg.

Fast forward a few years later and even though my mom managed to figure it out a little later than my dad did she was kinda embarrassed that she might have over reacted considering the Coalition, or rather the US in general, had turned what was the fourth largest army in the world at the time into a pile of scrap and charred skeletons. The overwhelming technological superiority of the US and its allies utterly annihilated Saddam's army. So much to the point where the regular infantryman didn't do much of the fighting. From what dad told me he essentially just guarded 3rd Armored's flank and took prisoner a lot of very willingly surrendering Iraqi's. He didn't even parachute into Iraq, they got there by truck. The tanks and the Air Force were the real hammer and fist of the fight from 17 January to February 28 of 1991. Knowing they had no chance the Iraqi's hauled ass out of Kuwait faster than they went in, but not without leaving a mess in their wake. They leaked massive amounts of oil into the Persian Gulf, set the wells on fire, and looted out whatever they could from Kuwait City. But in their rush to get out of Kuwait they didn't take into account that the fighting was still going on and didn't even cover their retreat. The US spotted a big undefended enemy convoy along Highway 80, next thing you know every Air Force, Navy, and Marine fighter pilot wanted a chance to chew it up. The aftermath was devastating as a whole highway was strung with destroyed vehicles along with thousands dead. This was what I saw by myself on the latest out of Iraq while my mom was making dinner, it was known as the Highway of Death. Children have different reactions to things they've never seen, experienced, or felt before and mine was, a trait that is part of who I am to this day, curiosity. Why were there so many burned cars, trucks, and tanks on this road? What caused it? Why were there so many people out there? Where did they all go? How much longer will dad be gone? I got my answer to one of those questions a few days later because after this and the tank battle at Medina Ridge the ceasefire occurred. I was too young to understand at the time but knowing what was going on in Iraq today I understood dad's, and many other returning soldiers, apparent frustration on when they came home. The US and the UN to some extent didn't want the main area that supplied the world's oil be under the thumb of an unstable megalomaniac. They killed all those people and left Iraq in even greater shambles with the sanctions that followed just to save a fucking nickel on a gallon of gas.

Now I was heading into a much more polar and twisted version of it, and this one was much more archaic. I was on a bit more of an edge than the rest of the crew but at least they knew why and didn't ask. We were going there to do a delivery and then leave with the least amount of stress possible. None of us wanted to be involved the mess that Iraq had dissolved into. Even with the US government saying that they have an appropriate plan for proper troop withdrawals it's just fancy wording for cutting their losses. At least until the worlds precious black gold is threatened again. We had passed by the last of the fields on our way up and I was still looking back from the passenger side of the truck I was riding in with Wiley. We were on point for the convoy until we crossed the border.

"You see something?" He asked.

I still kept my eyes on the last flame burst from one of the wells, a little reminder from the devil that what man was taking was from the underworld. I then drifted back to reality as he got my attention.

"Hey! You ok Damien?"

"I'm fine. It's just hard to realize that twenty years ago this very highway was coated in burning flesh and metal. All because of that shit they're pumping out of the sand. Now it's just that to an extent and tribal blood feuds."

Most of the crew just had a bit of a passive annoyance whenever I sometimes bitched about past problems in world events that no one has a solution for. Lehm and Wiley kept their focus straight and paid attention but that was common for special forces like them and myself. Lehm only listened sometimes, it was in his nature to be a bit lazy. Wiley however had a calmer, cooler, collectiveness than all of us, even Koko. He and I had a lot of good intellectual and introspective discussions on many things and it wasn't my fascination with history. It also included literature, sports, culinary arts and everyone's favorite subject alcohol. He knew I didn't talk about stupid shit and our conversations normally had meaning until we got bored.

"You know when most of us were coming home from the Gulf War we knew that this wouldn't be the end of it. It was gonna get worse."

"History proved you guys right." I scoffed. "Common sense really isn't the strong point of ANY government."

"It's why those in this line of work never involve themselves with politics. It turns good friends into horrible enemies and it even works the other way around. And I never want to do that with John. He and I have a lot of great memories together, both good and bad. He's also the reason why I decided to why I joined up with Delta Force and with Koko."

"Wish I could say the same." I then looked in the distance. "Oop, heads up."

The border was coming up and was well secured from the looks of it. On both sides were an HQ building with guards quarters with both sides separated with barbed wire. With a combination of Kuwaiti's with armored Humvees on one side and a mix of Iraqi's and American's on the other with MRAP's. The haze wasn't too bad today so I could see the outskirts of the city of Safwan where our temporary partners were gonna meet us. I then got on my radio.

"Koko we got the border coming up."

"Copy that Damien. Everyone get your passes out and don't load your guns until we cross. I'll make a call to Excalibur's chief."

The convoy then stopped as Wiley and I stopped at the marker and shut off the engine. Then after a brief exchange of Arabic between me and the Sergeant at the post, they then went to inspect the convoy. While we were sitting there I strapped on my vest, put on my balaclava, and strapped on my helmet. Like with our convoy back in the Caucasus' I was once again the only one that was naturally prepared for anything. Everyone else just had their weapons and carrying vests for their ammo. I've seen my fair share of mercs that think they're bad asses but reality, along with bullets and shrapnel, tend to prove them wrong. But then again, a mercenary doesn't always follow rules and I'm not one to prove that I'm any better. I've had my fair share of fire fights where the only thing stopping the rounds was either solid cover or sheer dumb luck.

"I get the mask, but you know all that stuff you carry weighs you down. We're not intentionally going into a fight." Wiley said as he loaded a mag into his ACR and not chambering a round.

This was one of those conversations I hated.

"Listen. I know you guys have been in this game longer than I have. I also know that we're not in our militaries anymore. But I'm VERY opposed to people putting holes in me." I said as I tapped on the spot on my chest where I was hit recently.

"It's also about HCLI's image. We're suppose to just protect Koko and looking like that makes people think you're there to start something. And Iraq has enough of that."

"Well I've never tried to impress anyone." I then put on my ballistic shades. "I just want to keep myself and you guys alive."

He smirked at the now faceless me and then looked ahead. "Hey there's a few guys waving us down on the other side. Must be Excalibur."

I looked ahead and I saw three men each in plate carriers but only two were armed with customized AK-47's. The one with the naked vest must have been their interpreter but the other two had looks of contempt. One had a type of tribal marked sleeve on his right arm with a goatee and the other one was a little hard realize first so I took of my shades to take a clearer look. His, definitely not natural, blonde hair along with gold chains, bright white shirt, and purple Oakley's made him look like he was off of a movie set instead of being in warzone. I also noticed some of the American troops looking at them with disgust, even the NCO that was apparently going to check us again once we crossed. It was no secret that there was a lot of hate for the private contractors in Iraq. They were pretty much free to do whatever the fuck they wanted.

"Oh God." I then put my shades back on and opened the door. "I'll see if it's them."

I jumped out of the truck and let my ACR simply hang in front of me. I then walked with authority towards the borderline, not crossing it, to let them know we were here. I heard a cockney British accent from the one in the center.

"Oi! You guys from HCLI? We've been waiting here for fucking three hours!"

Well fuck you too asshole.

I let it roll off my shoulder and answered if he had asked normally.

"We are. Nine personnel, eight trucks full of construction material, final destination is Nasiriyah."

As I finished giving him the quick brief I noticed that the movie star was looking at me with an eager grin. He then leaned closer to the one in the center but I could still hear him.

"Hey boss. You see this big bloke? It looks like he's outfitted for a war. Think this might be our lucky break?"

I answered with my arms crossed before his boss could say anything.

"Sorry to break it to you but were delivering materials to build a school so unless someone starts shooting at us well…leave it to the grown-ups and you girls will be back to get your mani-pedi's before you know it."

Any American or those that understood English bursted out laughing and there were also some restrained snicker's from their interpreter and the senior American NCO on the Iraqi side. The Brits though were burning a hole through my head.

"Listen big man you're lucky you're paying us a decent amount or else we'd leave ya to cross the fucking desert by yourselves." He said pointing at me.

"Which is why I'm expecting you second rate PMC's to behave a little more than your very poor first impression."

I smirked under my balaclava as I heard the carefree professional voice of the heiress to a multibillion dollar arms trading empire behind me. That also surprisingly managed to sneak up on me. I stepped to the side so that they could see her, the bewilderment that appears on peoples faces to see that a twenty something girl was in charge of a crew like us never got old.

"So Mr. Turner whenever you're done being the butt of one of my subordinates jokes," She then put her hand on my left arm. "Go and get your vehicles and wait for us so we can move out in proper convoy formation."

I then looked back towards the two, very defeated, Brits.

"I suggest you do what the little lady says. Now."

As the newly named Turner and his partner stormed off I saw that their interpreter was still pleasantly smiling. He must have not liked who he worked for very much either and was glad someone showed them what's what. The Kuwaiti sergeant then spoke to Koko that they were clear to let the trucks and us pass. All that was left was to speak to the American sergeant on the other side to let him know our business and we'd be on our way. Koko motioned her hand signal to Wiley to move out and as the convoy moved ahead we walked across the border and shook hand with the NCO in charge. The tag on his vest said "Stewart" as he shook Koko's hand.

"Glad you guys came when you did. Those Excalibur assholes were pissing off everybody." He said in a rather deep southern tone. Then again a lot of southern boys make up the Army.

"We'll were not like them sergeant, I'm just a merchant making a delivery and those that are with me are my personal bodyguards." She said as he handed him the forms.

"We don't wanna be in this sandbox anymore than we need to. We'll zonk the moment we done. Hooah?"

He understood the jargon as he raised is eyebrow looking at my hair coming out from under my balaclava.

"Hooah." He said smiling as he thumbed in the direction to go. Koko then got on her radio.

"Alright everyone synch your radios so that we're all on the same channel. Valmet and Lutz, stick with me when we roll out."

"Got it Koko." Sophia.

"Roger." Lutz.

"Damien, you're with Lehm. You'll be with him in the third truck in front of the first escort vehicle."

"Got it."

As we then walked to the convoy, she quietly whispered to me.

"Are you holding up alright?" She asked me knowing what she meant.

"I'm ok. They're not the same guys and no bad memories are coming up." I said while looking around at the US troops going about their various duties.

"Then take off that mask. There's nobody out here to hide from and if there is I won't let them take you."

It's the small, simple moments like this that let me know that she does truly care for the people that are close to her. But sometimes she forgets it's my job to keep her safe.

"I'll do it when I'm in the truck. But not when I'm out and moving around. Sound good?"

It's always hard to tell what she was thinking every time she smiled at me.

"Go take your position captain."

"Yes ma'am." I said as I racked the bolt back and loaded my first round.

1541 Hours

Outskirts of Basrah, Moving Towards Highway One, Iraq

Even though route was written as cleared, that didn't mean that the insurgency wasn't watching us. This had to be the most nervous I had been in a combat zone. Cause this was the way they inflicted most of the casualties to the Coalition in the last several years. Being in a thin skinned semi-truck, along with frequent complains of boredom from Excalibur, wasn't making me feel any better either. A majority of the transportation either flew by helicopter or went across country to reach their destination. But if the cargo was too volatile or too heavy, you had to take the roads. Knowing that the insurgents, which a lot of them weren't even Iraqi, had no chance against us in a fight or even a small arms ambush they resorted to a well-known household name that was plastered on the news every time it happened, improvised explosive devices. The way that they put the things together along with the materials they used was, in no exaggeration, genius. From washing machine dials for timers to saw blades with a dozen spent batteries for pressure detonation, they hooked them up to any type of combustible material with some weighing up to 500 pounds and this crude method worked with devastating efficiency. So much to a point where the US had to invent from scratch new vehicles to travel on the roads and detect them. Sometimes it takes a while but eventually the US military adapts to the tactics their enemy uses. It's why those MRAP's and MATV's I saw were so successful, they were built to withstand those massive explosions. Couple that with finally using our down looking satellites and the Air Force using unmanned drones constantly watching the roads to see if anyone was digging them up, things were calming down a bit.

But I knew that they were just licking their wounds and biding their time. They weren't stupid and they knew of the widening gap of opinion about the war from the American people and their government. History really has a very twisted way of repeating itself cause the same thing happened in Vietnam. We left Southeast Asia as a mess and since there was no one around for them to be afraid of, they just did whatever the fuck they pleased. Including a madman who decided to wipe out over a quarter of his own country to establish his peasant utopia. Now it's evolved into a form that doesn't even revolve around ideologies, nations, or even people. It revolves around business, keeping a fire going just so that a faceless monster can get a proper return on its investment. The big problem though was that there really wasn't anyone to blame for this. It was more like a disease that was infecting nations and people at an alarming rate. They couldn't see that they were becoming increasingly numb to war and it was becoming routine.

"Christ Damien your finger's on the trigger, you don't need to be so tense. You're starting to make me nervous."

As Lehm spoke up to get my attention I realized where my hand was.

"Sorry. I feel safer actually walking to where we need to go. Besides you know those guys out there don't care about what we're hauling. They just want casualties."

He then lit up his next cigarette, I was already used to it but the amount of smoke so far this afternoon was gonna make me stink. He hid it well but I could tell he was a little on edge himself. Even though he was a chain smoker he was already halfway through his second pack.

"I know how you feel. God, twenty years ago when I was out here things were simple and direct. How war's were supposed to be fought normally. Now a days it changes over night with these PMC's like Excalibur and businessmen mixed with regular soldiers. The line between soldier and civilian is getting very blurry."

"You get to smash any of Saddam's SCUD's while you were here last time?"

"Not entirely. But you know what, I got a little treat for you." He then got on his radio and tuned into our personal channel. "Hey Wiley."

"What's up?"

"Damien hasn't heard the story about the first mission we went on. Why don't you tell him?"

"Yeah man. Anything is better than listen to those morons." Ugo cut in.

"Same here, it never gets old." Mao came next.

"Carried unanimously. Tell him Wiley." Koko said finalizing.

"Heh, heh, heh. Alright fine. I had just come out of Sapper School and after the Engineers went in with 18th Airborne Corps I came across a then Captain John Lehmbrick."

Nineteen Years Earlier:

January 18th 1991 1030 Hours

XVIII Airborne Corps Command Camp, Saudi Arabia

"Yo! Wiley! Looking for a Wiley Coyote!"

The man doing the shouting was not dressed as the rest of the US troops. Except for the Beretta on his right leg he was dressed in civilian clothes or rather they wrapped around his well-built and hardened form. He was also unshaven and had unkept dirty blonde hair which matched his grey blue eyes and was walking around with a lit cigarette in his mouth. But nobody dared say anything because they all knew where he came from and what men like him could do.

"Come on! Where the fuck is Lieutenant William Nelson!?"

A young African-American man with glasses was paying attention for a little bit but when he finally heard his name, he didn't want to keep the man shouting waiting. He fit the persona of a young man ready to join the army ranks as a fresh officer. A thin but still athletic build, short buzz cut hair, clean shaven and outfitted with the same tan desert uniform like everyone else. He stood up and introduced himself.

"I'm William Nelson sir. Can I help you?"

"Ahh…so you do exist. Captain Lehmbrick, 1st Special Forces, Detachment Delta."

He then extended his well-toned and hairy arm. The shocked Lieutenant Nelson shook his hand and felt the crushing grip of a Tier 1 Special Forces Operative.

"Good to meet ya." He said patting his shoulder as well. A sign to let him know he wasn't in any kind of trouble.

"Honored to meet you sir."

"I spoke to your CO and we could use your help. Come with me, we'll walk and talk."

The perplexed Nelson froze for a few seconds. But the roar of two passing, low flying, and fully outfitted A-10 Thunderbolts brought him out of his bafflement brought him back to Earth. He then jogged to catch up with him.

Delta Force? What could they need me for?

Lehmbrick then pulled out a map from his breast pocket and unfolded it. Nelson then saw on the top of the topographical map was marked as "Top Secret". He was still trying to compensate that he had now crossed into the world of black ops. But he still wondered how and why.

"So if you guys are with Delta Force. Does that mean were going on a SCUD hunt? Or are we crippling the Iraqi chain of command?"

"Someone's got a hard on for some action. But no, this one is a little different, it'll be four of us plus you. Intelligence confirmed that there's a chemical weapons plant at the base of a mountain in northern Iraq. Since were now fully engaged, they're gonna throw everything they have to stop us. We can't bomb the place with an airstrike because if we do, that gas will leak and will spread to wherever the wind takes it and that would be disastrous. So we need to take it out from the inside, we stop their production and bury the gas under the rubble so it doesn't spread at the same time."

"How do we do that?" He asked.

"That's where you come in. We're hoping with your expertise in demolitions and architecture, we can flatten this place with using only the minimum amount of C4. And we have to do it within the next 36 hours so forgive me for saying this but were gonna have to give you a crash course in HALO jumping."

If it wasn't for the heat, the young Lieutenant would have been sweating nervously. He had now been tasked with shouldering the weight of possibly shifting the outcome of Operation Desert Storm completely in the Coalitions favor.

"Sir, I've only written a thesis paper on structural demolition. This seems a little much for me."

"All you have to do is just figure out how to level the place. We'll handle everything else. Trust me you'll be fine."

He must have had a lot of confidence in him because Nelson noticed he was speaking to him in a very relaxed drawl. It still didn't change the fact he was nervous as all hell. He was about to entire hostile territory behind enemy lines. He didn't even notice a shout of greetings from a man calling out his nickname, sitting on the hood of a Humvee. He along with the other two were dressed in the same simple civilian clothes like their captain. From first glance, the looked rather plain, who the were though was anything but.

"You must be the famous Wiley. Let me introduce you to the team."

The man in question then shook their hands one at a time.

"This is SFC Bernie Arkin. This is Sergeant Dan Howe. And I'm Lieutenant Sean Eckhart, but please call me Echo."

"Nice to meet you all, I'm Nelson."

"Be gentle on him boys. He hasn't popped his cherry yet."

Lehmbrick's squad then let out a hearty laugh. Some references from the old war twenty-five years ago still had their touch. And with that, four Delta's and one Engineer drove off to make history that the world would never know about.

1800 Hours

King Abdul Aziz Air Base, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

During the lengthy ride in one of the Army's brand new UH-60 helicopters. Lehmbrick gave their new demo expert Wiley the only solid intel they had on the structure of the facility, an aerial photograph. What he didn't expect however was the green kid turn into a bit of an analytical machine almost instantly. Even hours after they had touched down to prepare for their raid the following morning, he didn't leave the hangar they were waiting to go from and was still in his notebook writing anything and everything he could about the supposed layout of the interior of the chemical weapons plant. Destroying it wasn't going to be the issue but there was one big problem he couldn't figure out. As he wrote down his final note, he took off his glasses and walked outside to get some cool air now that the sun was going down. Gripping his hands together while looking off in the distance he leaned back on the hangar door and slid down to the ground.

Alright, that nail's out it's layout. But the real problem is the gas, none of us know where it is. I mean it's not like they're saying "This is top secret so blow it up."

As Wiley was sitting outside the aircraft hanger in his thinking pose, Echo was walking to him with two styrofoam containers from the chow hall.

"You almost missed chow man. You still writing in that damn book?" He asked handing him one of the containers.

"Well we got a problem." He said as he opened the container. "Uhh…take that back, two. What the hell is this?"

It was only in the last few years that military food during deployment had gotten somewhat better. That was not however a complement.

"They said flank steak but I think it's an old tire piece painted brown. Anyway what's up?"

"The gas. If we don't know where it is then we run the risk of leveling just the building and they can just ship the tanks it's in somewhere else." Wiley said in a thinking tone while trying to cut his steak.

"Like Captain Lehm said, you just worry about the building, nothing else." He said as he sat next to his new friend.

As they continued to eat, Wiley took out his notebook and the photo again. His eyes were dotting back and forth between his notes and the photo. Eckhart was starting to find Nelson's analysis a bit obsessive. Even with his extensive knowledge in engineering.

"I understand that you majored in architecture at the University of Virginia. Why'd you major in that if you wanted to be a combat engineer?"

Wiley then turned to him with a grin.

"How about I tell you all at once were in the sky?"

January 19th 2010 0339 Hours

30000 Feet Above the Zargos Mountains, Iraq

A ride in a C-130 wasn't what your average serviceman would call quiet and sometimes comfortable. It was designed to haul cargo, only thing that mattered was the level of secrecy. But there wasn't anything secret or subtle when the Delta's found out about why Wiley joined up in the first place.

"Jesus Christ! Do you believe the shit this guy's saying?!"

As Akrin was holding on to his gut guffawing. The rest of the Delta's were doing their best not to lose it as well. They realized why William Nelson had earned the nickname of one of the wackiest characters of Looney Toons.

"You come from a family of architects and you join the army to blow buildings up by learning how to build them? Shit dude you got a bigger screw loose than all of us put together!"

Eckhart was having trouble trying to suppress his laughter as well. He had come across a lot of silly examples of irony in his life, Army life not included. But this had to be the silliest. However, the fun and games died down when Lehmbrick checked his watch and his smile turned neutral.

"Alright guys, load up and check each other's gear. We're twenty minutes from the drop zone."

Each man then prepared for his role. Magazines secured, C4 prepped, straps tightened, radio's functional, faces painted, assholes puckered. Each one knew that they had to be in and out as fast as possible because if the Iraqi's caught them, death was going to be merciful. But Wiley had a system for keeping himself focused and calm. Thinking about the building and how to destroy it along with burying the chemical weapons, nothing else. Nothing when Echo was giving him a last minute brief on when to pull his cord. Nothing when the light to prepare for the jump turned red. Nothing when it turned green and they fell into the mountains.

0530 Hours

After landing three miles from their target, the sun was already starting to rise. They fast walked towards the cliff that was overseeing the chemical weapons facility so that they would have more than ample energy to take out the guards inside. It wasn't a very descriptive looking place, as a matter of fact it looked pretty average. Almost as if it looked like a simple power station without the power lines. That of course was the reason why it looked like that, to not raise suspicion of what it really was. After the adrenaline rush of the freefall and the hustle to make it to the plant, it had dawned on Nelson that he was about to enter his first firefight. Along with the fact he was in the heart of enemy territory with an Iraqi brigade stationed not too far from the plant. Captain Lehmbrick then got his attention.

"Ok boy's there it is. We gotta move fast but we can't let them call for reinforcements so we'll hit their comm tower before we storm the main facility. Let's get down this cliff."

Each man dropped their backpacks and got out their ropes and repelling harnesses. Echo then looked at a rather nervous Wiley. They may have been the same rank, but he was far greener. He wouldn't hold that against him though, everyone needs a hand during their first trial by fire. He placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Just stick with us. And the first round is on me."

Wiley then got his confidence back. "Right. Let's do this."

0552 Hours

They managed to get down the cliff and approach the plant in a quick and quiet manner but slowed down once they breached the perimeter. Third world facilities didn't have the many state of the art security systems as any normal military would but that didn't mean it wasn't poorly defended. There were quite a number of guards they had to silently dispatch before they destroyed the comm tower. Then the main raid had begun.

Breaching, clearing and maintaining a mobile 360-degree field of security they moved towards the center building. The one where Nelson had most likely deduced that the chemicals would be at. With cold and focused efficiency, they eliminated any threat in their path. Suffice it to say, the young William Nelson couldn't hide his feelings of both awe and fear.

God in Heaven they're like machines. One minute we were just shooting the shit on the plane and the next they're shooting anything that moves like it's nothing.

"Lehm! I think I found where the gas is at!" Howe said after he killed another guard.

"Where!?" He asked as Howe pointed at the writing on the wall in Arabic.

"This says "Main Storage and Production" that's gotta be it."

"We'll find out soon enough. Wiley! Lets move!"

"On your six!" He said as he followed them from his cover.

Sure enough it led them to their prize. After dispatching the guards and taking their access keys they opened the large steel door that contained the same poison that Saddam had used on the innocent Kurds several years prior during the Iran-Iraq War. Now US Army Delta Force would make sure it never be used here again. The manufacturing room was very open but had quite a few large support pillars. The tanks that contained the deadly gas were appropriately marked with hazard symbols. A separate room was marked where the missiles for delivering the agent were kept. Finally were a few researchers and a dozen guards whose orders were to defend the gas or die trying.

They died, without getting the chance to shoot. The scientists that associated with murder got the same treatment. Lehmbrick then got the squads attention.

"That should be the last of them. But they had to have sent runners for reinforcements. We don't have much time. Wiley! Work fast!"

"Yes sir! Just give me all the C4!" He said as he got towards the center of the room and began formulating a plan in his head.

He immediately realized that they had a big problem. While they found where the poison gas was easily, all five of them didn't have enough C4 to level the part of the plant they needed to destroy. There were too many pillars and the structural layout wouldn't collapse in on itself all at once. After doing some quick calculations in his head, the answer couldn't be more obvious. He needed more explosives but it didn't have to be just C4 considering where they were at. He then formed a successful grin on his face as he kneeled down to unpack the explosives from the first bag. Little however did he know, he was in the sights of a guard that refused to die without taking a member of the Great Satan with him.

"FUCK! WILEY!" Eckhart screamed as both men shot at the same time.

The rounds barely missed Lieutenant Nelson's head by millimeters, but he wasn't moving much. As Echo sprinted to see if the Engineer was alright, he was bewildered on what he saw. Prepping the demo charges and simply adjusting his glasses looking like nothing had happened.

"That is some intense focus. You are one crazy coyote."

The crazed combat engineer then looked to the Delta operator with a small right portion of his scalp bleeding.

"Echo, we don't have enough charges to bring this place down. We need an accelerant."

"Where we gonna get that?" He asked somewhat panicked that the mission might be in jeopardy.

"The missiles. Get the fuel for them and I'll do the rest." Wiley said calmly.

0618 Hours

Knowing the blast was going to cause a lot of flying debris and a brutal shockwave the team strung out their det-cord as far as it could so that they had proper cover. All that was left was to hit the switch and pray that it worked. Lehmbrick saw that Nelson was ready, it was time to see if Wiley Coyote was crazy good or crazy bad.

"Alright Nelson, hit it!"

"Yes sir. Fire in the hole!"

The detonator sent the current through the cord to the charges it was attached to and the ground began to shake with the explosion inside the plant. But what happened was clean and precise minus the dust being kicked up from the collapsing buildings. With the use of proper demolition techniques the building that contained the gas collapsed in on itself, burying the poison, just as the crazed coyote had been told.

"Holy shit would you look at that!" Arkin said while looking through his binoculars.

"Yeah I thought it was gonna be some massive blast but it just flattened out all nice and clean!" Howe said making the gestures with his hands.

"Like I said, you're one crazy coyote. Great job Will." Echo said with a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks guys."

"Alright, alright. We can celebrate later, we're still behind the lines and we got a chopper to get to. Haul ass!"

As Lehmbrick then led the squad to run to the rendezvous, he turned his head to make sure Wiley heard him.

"I don't think I need you guys' opinion on whether he's good enough or not, so the decision is unanimous. Nelson!"

"Sir?"

"How'd you like to be one of us?" He asked.

"Wha…sir are you serious?" Wiley answered unsure of what he said was real or not.

"I'll pull a few favors to try and get you past the new guy bullshit and you're definitely tough enough to handle the pressure. But we do need to chip off the rough edges."

"Sir I…"

"Don't think about it too hard. Delta Force will be glad to add you to the ranks Lieutenant Nelson."