September 6, 2017

2:47 am, Cancun, Mexico

Supervisory Special Agent Erika Diaz-Iglesias recalls the fireball that lit up the night sky just a second ago. Now, a plume of neverending smoke bellows into the night air as she watches from her window seat.

Sitting with her in the vibrating low green light cabin of the UH-60 Blackhawk is over half of an FBI Hostage Rescue Team, consisting of 8 fully geared operators. Not an operator yet leading the mission is Supervisory Special Agent Erika Diaz-Iglesias. A rising star and 20 year veteran of the FBI, she is the lead investigator into the abduction of the President’s granddaughters.

“Confirmed. That is our LZ.” The pilot shouts, stirring Erika from her thoughts.

“What in God’s name happened?” Diaz asks back through her headset.

“We’ll find out when we arrive.” Team Leader Pancho “Speedy” Iglesias answers as he admires Erika’s dark hair that keeps peeking out of her tactical helmet. After all, It wasn’t every day he got to see let alone partner up with his wife during work.

“Shit.” Diaz could only say as she looks out her window, actively avoiding her man’s gaze lest she loses her professionalism.

“We trained for the unexpected.” Speedy comforts.

“ETA 3 mikes.” The pilot says over the radio, “Incoming from Command for Team Leader.”

“Roger that!” Speedy replies as he puts his gloved hand over his headphones.

“Can’t believe we are rescuing Team Six.” Operator Jon says over the intercom radio.

“Don’t be surprised if the party is over by the time we get there.” Operator Sam responds, “This is THE Team Six.”

“I heard one time, Fire was attacked by a battalion of terrorists.” Operator Carter says, “Within a day, the entire battalion was dismantled and destroyed.”

“Wrong rookie.” Operator Kyle says, “It was 3 battalions and it was within 3 hours.”

The other Operators laugh. The irony of that story was it got retold with fewer numbers each time to make it believable. The actual story is far older and far more epic. Even Kyle was underportraying its fantastical tale. For it wasn’t 3 but 10 battalions. It wasn’t terrorists but an arm of a nation’s military gone rogue. Fire prevented a civil war and needless bloodshed of millions in under an hour. Reality remains stranger than fiction. If Team Six was the invisible tip of the spear for America’s special forces, then Fire was the crown of the invisible tip.

There are 8 Operators of the HRT in the Blackhawk. Each Operator is in full dark color SWAT gear, complete with a helmet that obscures their facial features and a bulky vest with white HRT printed on it. For weapons, half the members have an M4 carbine assault rifle. Two members have Remington Model 870 shotguns. One member has a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun. While Speedy has a Glock 17 handgun. Attached to everyone are many standard special forces tools including at least two types of grenades, sidearms, and extra ammunition.

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“Update. Valkyrie-1 and 2, on intercom now.” Speedy says, “Command said our Reaper was hacked. It caused that fireball. Drone is now under control.”

“Still no word from Team Six.” Speedy continues, “But good chance they’re out of the complex.”

“Finally, expect people crowding the LZ so that alters the plan.” Speedy adds, “Carter, Kyle, Jon, and Sam will fast-rope down and secure LZ for Valkryie-1. Valkryie-2 will maintain air support. Wilson, you’re on turret duty.”

“Are we expecting engagement, sir?” Operator Wilson asks.

“Command rates that low probability.” Speedy answers, “But always expect the unexpected.”

“ETA 1 Mike!” The co-pilot announces.

“Positions.” Speedy says causing the operators to go over their equipment, adapting to updates.

“Special Agent Diaz, we’ll deploy after the LZ is secured.” Speedy says in a serious tone.

Playtime is over. Erika nods then gets up to switch places with Kyle. Her face is the only one visible. She has a black vest with the words FBI printed on in white. On her right hip, a SIG Sauer P226 handgun.

“We are here!” The co-pilot announces a moment later.

“Begin Operation Valkyrie Rescue.” Speedy says with his left fist closed in the air.

Both helicopter doors slide open, bringing the fresh night air and the Blackhawks engine noise in. Ropes drop. With the all-clear, Carter, Kyle, Jon, and Sam clip on-to the rope and kick-off from the helicopter. Their speeds are immense as they repel along the rope. Within 7 seconds, their tactical boots touch ground. They form a box perimeter, pointing outwards.

Above their heads, Valkyrie-2 circles around with its searchlight illuminating the floor. A mob surrounds the four HRT operators. Some members have guns but they only point.

“FBI! Guns down!” Kyle and Carter shout.

“Stand down, all of you.” Aviator says as he makes his way to the front.

The mob lows their guns while Kyle and Carter look on in confusion.

“Oly Oly Oxen Free.” Aviator says, pointing into the crowd, “We need MedEvac now.”

Kyle and Carter follow the pointing finger to a badly burned corpse surrounded by 2 armed women and armed men in black as well as 2 young women, the President’s granddaughters.

Nodding, Kyle performs a quick scan of the landing zone for any dangerous objects. The rest of the team widen the landing zone.

“LZ is green. Prep for MedEvac.” Kyle says as he runs to a safe position.

The Blackhawk descends, its rear landing gear kissing the ground first before its 2 fore wheels.

Speedy, Glock 17 pointing outwards, comes out of the chopper with Special Agent Diaz, also wielding her own handgun, in tow. Operators Romeo and Fred fan out to provide further backup.

“Where’s the casualty?” Speedy asks.

“Over there, sir!” Carter answers, pointing at the corpse in the crowd.

“He declared Oly Oly Oxen Free.” Kyle says, pointing at Aviator.

Speedy follows, evaluates the group ahead, then nods. Oly Oly Oxen Free was a code phrase limited to the exclusive community of Tier 1 US Operators and their allies. It was a safe phrase, fashioned from an old children’s game, to reduce the chance of friendly fire in the field. Operators would trust but verify each other’s identities after the battle. Sometimes even restraining, instead of killing the other, until verification. However, no one knew the identities of Team Six outside the Directors of the FBI and CIA, and on occasion, the President of the United States. So, verifying identities could only wait.

“Serena! Mariah! I am Special Agent Diaz with the FBI.” Diaz shouts with her gun pointing at the armed people around the young women, “I am here to take you home.”

Mariah and Serena look at Wave.

“Go.” Wave says. “We’ll be right behind you.”

The young women nod and make their way to Diaz. Diaz holsters her handgun as she receives the girls. Quake carries Fire in his arms then moves forward with Wave, Shade, and Spectrum following.

“I’ve to ask you to discard your weapons.” Speedy shouts, “And you’ll have no restraints.”

The team drops their guns as they keep moving. Speedy nods.

“I trust you are who I think you are.” Speedy says. “We’ve orders to deliver you to the Airport.”

“Good.” Spectrum says, “Switch EMF frequency to 11.7 MHz to find our gear.”

“We’ll take care of it.” Speedy says, “Romeo and Fred, escort everyone back.”

“Sir!” Romeo and Fred say.

“The rest of us will get picked up by Valkyrie-2.” Speedy says.

As Team Six enters the Blackhawk, Isabela starts clapping then people join in. Soon, the entire crowd is applauding. “Thank you” and “God bless you” are amongst the many phrases shouted both in English and Spanish.

“Who are they?” Speedy finally asks.

“Refugees.” Quake says, having secured Fire to a stretcher on the helicopter.

Speedy simply nods then says “Go” as he slides the door shut. He hurriedly backs away. The Blackhawk lifts off, tilting forward before stabilizing as it rises into the moonlight. It performs a U-turn as it course corrects, flying East. The sounds of applause and far off blaring sirens below quickly drown in the rising altitude.