CHAPTER 3: NIGHTTIME SILENCE

April 1, 2008

One mile south of Tripoli

Libya

Daron "Tarok" James of Hammer squad of the Delta support team barked on his radio as the MH-53 Pave Low Special Ops helicopter swooped down the dark desert hills a few kilometers southeast of Tripoli. The team was almost there. When they land a mile south of Tripoli, they would prepare the MH-53, a shit load of land rovers, and lots of minesweeper helicopters that were already scrambling to get there faster than James' team. Libyan Special Forces, and Egyptian Unit 777 operators would execute the rescue, and Tarok's team, Rangers, Green Berets, and British SAS would provide close support.

The helicopter's nose swooped low, about fifty feet above the dark hills, and the M-60 gunner, Leon "Sasha" Ploce yelled a shout of excitement he was feeling. James felt excitement, and fear at the same time. As a long time Delta operator, all the missions he had conducted...Somalia, Sierra Leone...Nigeria, all were in the same scary demographic...Africa. The dark continent was scarred with hunger, plagues, and civil war, and Daron James had to feel, smell, and see all of it.

"Tarok, ETA, three minutes!" yelled the co-pilot, who was an experienced Nightstalker pilot, or the Special Operations Aviation Regiment. "Roger that" Tarok said. His squadmate's faces looked eerie in the internal blue illumination of the helicopter. All dressed in fatigues, wearing no helmets, just desert-colored bandanas, and M4 carbines, were pumped up. Even though they wouldn't see any combat, just staging an operation, they were ready to see some sort of action.

But the staging area, which was really nothing more than two dark hills interconnected from a makeshift bridge, had to be absolutely safe from any type of friendly fire incidents. The Libyan operators told JSOC (Joint Special Ops Command) that blue flares would mark the staging area, but it may attract the most deadliest enemy...the media. Hopefully, if cameras and reporters were on the scene, he wouldn't get his face caught in the flash of the cameras.

"ETA...we are already here." The pilot barked over the loud sound of the engine. Tarok could see in his peripheral vision the blue flares the Libyans talked about. They lined the desert hills in symmetrical precision, but there were no signs of life. Just rows and rows of unorganized dark objects, which were the land rovers, helicopters, and fast-assault vehicles. The flares spanned at least one kilometer, through the thick and thin of the hills. The MH-53 carefully landed in a small man-made clear area free of any thick desert sands. Ploce, Wilkes, Tim, and Tarok, along with the pilots, stepped out of the chopper. The area was dark, and the flares didn't provide much illumination.

The team moved slowly towards the staging area, and saw the plethora of land rovers, vehicles, and three choppers. A voice greeted the pilot and co-pilot, who moved quickly ahead of the Delta operatives.

"Hello, my name is Major Akurdet, Fifth Action Assault Team, Libyan Special Operations Command." It was a masculine voice. The man was about six feet high, but his face was unnoticeable due to the faint illumination. "I believe you are here to assist us in the staging of Operation Death Bowl. We have already prepared most of the stage area, just a few more craft to get cleaned and ready." The last two words the man spoke were drowned out by the sound of two MH-53 helicopters screamed overhead, and two HMH-465 Marine Corps helicopters moved in above the area, and disappeared in the night sky.

"What are Marine helicopters doing here?" Tarok asked.

"There is another staging area two kilometers east of here. They are also preparing for air support for the rescue." The major said. He looked at Tarok peculiarly and then the rest of his squad behind him.

"You must be Hammer squad. The JSOC told me to expect you here. You can pretty much safeguard the area, and if you see any press, fire warning shots, because we don't want them here." The Major said. Tarok nodded, and looked in the distance. He could see Libyan commandos in the prone position, with their assault rifles pointed toward the west. They blended in pretty well, using the desert ground as cover.

"We didn't tell you sir, but there is also an airstrip further down west. It will be utilized by the MH-53s for the entrance into Tripoli airspace. We move in, we move out. The operation will go smoothly." the Major said. Tarok hoped so too.