A pair of UH-60 Blackhawk helicopters swept over the trees in a secluded area of Britain. Skilled pilots flew what they called "nap of the earth," their aircraft mere feet from the treetops as they made toward their objective.
These were no ordinary Blackhawks, and the personnel flying and riding no ordinary soldiers. Crewman of the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment operated the enhanced helicopters, augmented with advanced avionics, thermal optics, and a wide variety of other improvements over the original model. Their task was to get the Delta operators to and from the objective; a downed experimental UAV prototype.
The prototype was the apparently the culmination of four years of research and development between the U.S. and British Air Forces. It represented a true leap in unmanned technology and the prototype alone cost just shy of a hundred million U.S. dollars. At the edge of an unnamed, innocuous forest, that investment stopped responding to controls and crashed into the ground.
The nearest units to the crash site with the security clearance and experience to mount a recovery happened to be an American team from the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment - Delta, commonly referred to Delta Force or simply The Unit. Fresh from a tour in Afghanistan, they were honed to a razor's edge.
"We're about ten minutes out!" Captain Marshal Sumner heard over his radio. Lieutenant Washburn, the pilot of his Blackhawk was also the flight leader. On hearing the announcement, Sumner rechecked his weapons and gear for anything not in perfect shape. He had done so several times already but carelessness got you dead.
"Gentlemen," Capt. Sumner addressed his operators over the unit wide comm. "This might well be the milk run command expects, but until we are boots-at-base, I want heads on a swivel and rifles at the ready. I catch one of you slacking, and I swear to the Great Man in the sky that I will have you standing door duty outside the shit house faster than you can blink." His comments earned a few chuckles from the operators, but each one of them knew just how serious the Captain was. A bullet can kill you anytime, and one second of not being at a hundred percent could make the difference.
The Captain looked out just in time to see the other Blackhawk, Super 6-2, break right and out of formation. Simultaneously the co-pilot of his aircraft, Super 6-1, began flipping dials at his console and a general feeling of unease settled on the occupants of both helicopters.
"Super 6-2 is bingo fuel, aborting." Sumner heard over the radio. How could they be so low on fuel already, they should have been fully fueled at the start of the flight.
"Super 6-1, reading mechanical failure, suggest aborting," the co-pilot of Super 6-1 stated over the radio almost immediately after. The pilot looked over his dials and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
"What are you talking about?" the flight leader asked. "Console is green across the board. Super 6-2, confirming bingo fuel?"
"Affirmative, we have just enough to get back to base," the pilot replied. Lt. Washburn shook his head, they just lost half their element. Who overlooked fueling? He rechecked, and the all of the instrument panels were clear.
"Guardian, Super 6-1," Lt. Washburn called the operational commander. "Super 6-2 is bingo fuel and RTB. Super 6-1 is continuing."
"Guardian copies all," was the only reply. Captain Sumner and the seven operators with him could only listen as the other half of their unit turned away. Though none of them would admit it, the feeling of forgetting something was strong in each of them. Seasoned professionals as they were however, they simply rechecked their weapons and gear to ensure that what little they could control at this point was ready to go.
The flight continued for several minutes without a word, until the helicopter crested a small mountain. Below them in a clearing was a plume of smoke and what looked like a crash site. In the distance they could see what appeared to be a castle or some other structure. It was difficult to tell at a distance.
"Super 6-1 is eyes on target." Lt. Washburn said coolly, maneuvering the helicopter toward the crash site. The Delta operators began to prepare for landing when the helicopter went silent. There was no alert, no alarms or flashing lights. The droning sound in Captain Sumner's headset was gone. All of this registered in his mind in the first second, and then he felt his stomach leap up into his throat as the helicopter began a rapid descent.
"Super 6-1 is going down!" Lt Washburn called into his headset by reflex. "Brace, brace, brace!" No one on board could hear him, but they instinctively held tight as the helicopter plummeted toward the crash site. The Blackhawk barely crested the remaining trees before smashing into the ground, knocking its occupants about. Captain Sumner hit his helmet against the wall of the helicopter and everything went black.