Golf India Juliet: The Cobra Insurgency

Stalker

Eighteen Months Ago

     Lonzo sat just outside the makeshift Tactical Operations Center under the shade of an old Russian quonset hut.  The heat was stifling and he watched as the ice cold water bottle began to sweat.  His African heritage did not seem to help with the weather.  The AC had once again resigned to leave the Task Force to the unforgiving sun.  Sergeant First Class Lonzo Wilkerson positioned himself just outside the open windows in order to hear the radio transmissions from the other half of his Recce team.  His kit was laid out within reach to be able to quickly don. He heard Tom's voice break onto the radio, "Standby."  The code word started movement on the airfield.  He could see the crew moving toward the ancient MI-17 Russian helo and began pre-flight procedures.

     Tanner walked out moments later from the primitive barracks area followed by a half dozen local soldiers that were paid by the CIA to chase bad guys in this tribal area between the two countries.  The young Staff Sergeant pointed at the aircraft and the mercenaries moved toward the hulking beast chatting in their local tongue.  Tanner was already wearing his headset and asked "What do you think?"

     Lonzo began shouldering his gear and turning on his radios.  He was doing the math in his head of flight times to primary, secondary and alternate landing zones.  Before he could answer the radio came to life "TOC, TOC, Zulu Juliet Two, in contact.  Moving to LZ Dagger."  Tom's voice was calm even as Lonzo could hear the muffled cracks of rifle fire in the background.

     The rotors were already spinning full as the two Special Missions soldiers ran toward the bird.  Lonzo had left his usual suppressed short rifle behind in favor of a highly customized MK48 machine gun.  They had barely ran up the ramp into the cavernous aircraft when they were both pushed into the floor as the Hip accelerated away from the ground in a stomach pulling climb.  Fifteen minutes flight time to Dagger was almost an eternity when in contact with the enemy.  He moved past the mercenaries and noticed that some were flexing and stretching while others were pretending to doze.  He knew that all had been in combat before and that he had no choice but to trust these men with the lives of his team and his own.  He flipped down a LCD screen that was attached to the chest of his body armor and watched the spinning wheel that informed him that his million dollar Predator feed was buffering.  He moved to the door gunner window and leaned out with the hopes of grabbing a radio signal.  He keyed his mic and asked Tom for a SITREP, dead air was the only answer.  He looked back at Tanner and shook his head no answering the nonverbal question.  Lonzo stayed in the window feeling the air against his dark skin, allowing himself a moment to not think.  He could only wait, it was not in his nature to stand idle and let others maneuver.  He would much prefer to be the one setting the tempo.