Chapter 14: The Hornets' Nest

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The sun was setting on the Atlantic Ocean. A fleet of battleships and aircraft carriers flying American flags cruised across the foamy blue-green liquid, their grey bodies sticking out like sore thumbs. Within the command ship 3 men sat around a meeting table, the lack of light in the room cloaking their facial expressions. The air was stale with cigar smoke and beer, and the men laughed and played cards. Two were Caucasian and the other was Mexican; all were wearing admiral garbs. One was muscular with a thick beard and a flat top haircut and one had a scar running across his face and had a prosthetic arm. The last person, the Mexican, was relatively skinny and was youthful.

The bearded man spoke with a deep, mighty tone. "Gentlemen!" he spoke

"It will be no greater pleasure than to go into battle with you as my comrades!"

The skinny one simply laughed hard and took another long gulp of his alcoholic beverage.

"Johnson, you're drunk as a motherfucker. You've said that 13 times now, go to your quarters." Johnson returned the laughter.

"James my boy, you have only downed 5 beers, live a little, I'm sure when we reach Roanapur you will find that Chinese bitch who shot you."

The 3rd man groaned. "Both of you need to pipe the fuck down. That is no way to represent Uncle Sam nor yourselves."

Johnson and James sighed collectively. "Apologies, Miller." Jonathon said in a near whisper.

"It is quite alright, I understand your need to live it up a bit before we stir up the hornets' nest." Miller spoke in an undertone voice. "However, we will need all 3 admirals fully capable for the battle or we run the risk of the operation collapsing."

Johnson rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah, I get it." he grinned. "We get in. We kill everyone. We occupy. We leave."

The other two grinned widely and they all began giggling maniacally.

The voyage took 6 days. The US arrived right on time. The day for war was upon Roanapur.

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