Throughout the world people cry for help. Those that stand ready to defend their homes and protect their families are stuck under pressure that has not been seen since the last major war. But they are not the only ones looking towards the darkened skies wondering who will answer their calls for help.
Stepping into the unknown, a captain from the American Army wonders aimlessly. Wonders beyond common knowledge will soon become every-day sights. And the men behind him could never prepare themselves for what was to come in the great beyond.
----------------------------------------
2359 HOURS.
TUESDAY, 3 JUNE 2112.
ISLAMABAD, PAKISTAN.
Sergeant Mike Randall was a foreigner. Himself and the twelve other soldiers apart of the 75th Ranger Regiment were no longer the proclaimed soldiers they were labeled as on every report, they were labeled as foreigners. The nation hosting them, the Islamic Republic of Pakistan had called for a political meeting, more so a meeting regarding the current fracturing state of the nation. He and the others were scattered inside the primary venue held within the Presidential palace each dressed in their military ball uniforms as this event seemed more like an evening party. The security for such a high stakes venue was being handled by Diplomatic Security agents and a platoon’s worth of armed Marines. They worked in tandem with local Pakistani law enforcement and military personnel, thankfully, without incident. No one noticed them, except for those who bothered to look, but that was circumvented as they were distracted by other, more important issues.
The meeting between the United States Diplomat and the Pakistani President had already begun. Music blaring from a nearby band and alcoholic drinks practically thrown out kept the curious occupied and the daring controlled. Even some of the more daring news reporters and hidden watchers were kept busy with the appearance of high-value targets such as military generals, political adversaries, and outlandish performers. It was a haze; drinks, laughter, and romantic remarks was common in this place, just for this single evening unfortunately. The world would fall apart if this lasted longer than necessary. An event like this was used to mask the current political meltdown that was happening on the other side of the country. Everyone knew it if they thought long enough, though not everyone did bother to sit and see the bigger picture.
Breathing quietly, Mike moved towards a closed window that stretched towards the roof. He placed his left hand against the reinforced glass and placed his right against his forehead. He was both unlucky and lucky enough to have a sharp headache that had appeared from being simply overwhelmed from the non-stop blaring of voices and music. It was a given that he would be surrounded by loud gunfire and explosions when on his day job, but it was also a gift to have quiet moments where not even the sound of his own breaths could be heard. His head fell, dark brown eyes drew to the uniform elements he had acquired. They all were a heavy reminder of what he had willing thrown himself into in his young years that have still yet to end. His eyes drifted to the Ranger scroll, Ranger tab, and Airborne tab on his left shoulder. Those showed his tenacity and stubbornness. It came in handy when moving through those schools.
Soon enough his pale face eventually found color and the pain at the front of his head gently began to weaken at a slow pace. Removing his right hand from his head, his calloused fingers eventually found themselves adjusting the bowtie and collar that hid the small scar that ran on his neck. He gently rubbed his thumb on the top of the scar which just barely looked over the shirt he wore and smacking his lips trying to gain control of his body, Mike shifted his feet and stood up and eased his tense body as he tried to snap himself into focus. One of the many things he was taught during his tenure at Ranger School included the lesson of never letting his guard down until the area of operations was secure, and a relief team was in position to take over. Mike bit his lip, he had failed that simple lesson. The experienced Ranger had let his guard down in a place, in a location that was not safe. Here he was in a nation not of his own, and one that had held hostile views towards the United States and her allies within the last two-hundred years.
Eventually his deep breaths and the gently flow of cold air soon reinvigorate him. With a newfound confidence breezing through his mind, Mike sprung back and walked away from the window, a gentle rain pattered against the glass as he disappeared under the shining lights of the chandeliers and the congested crowds of attendees. He stanched a champagne glass on his way. On any normal mission this was heavily frowned upon and could possibly lead to disciplinary action, but tonight’s restrictions were lightly dampened to provide some wayward form of ‘peace’.
It wasn’t long before the sergeant stumbled upon his CO of the squadron, Captain Oliver Thompson. It was odd to see a captain leading a mere squadron within the regiment, though the situation the army was in had drastically changed due to the last war. Oliver was speaking to two men, 1st Lieutenant Andrew Devlin, and a Pakistani Major, Tanvir Omar. The three were locked in a conversation, their words spoke of previous deployments each had been involved with. Oliver spoke of his time as a lieutenant in Sierra Leone, and Major Tanvir spoke of his time in Kyrgyzstan.
Eventually Mike was noticed, “Sir, Major Omar.” The Ranger said sending a curt nod to the three men whos’ attention he had caught.
Oliver turned around; a gentle smile was placed on his lips. In his left hand was a half-full champagne glass and he extended his right offering Mike a handshake. “Major,” he began patting Mike on the back, “this is my trusted sergeant, Mike Randall. He is the one that I mentioned when we spoke of the mission to provide humanitarian aid in Puerto Rico.”
“Well, I’m sure you have many stories to tell.” Omar snorted amused at the current situation.
“Of course, major.” Mike unenthusiastically replied.
“Whatever it is, cannot compare to my time in Tash-Bashat. Five hundred soldiers were all I had to fight against an insurgency, and every day we fought until the sun set hoping to eliminate any terrorist stronghold we came across.” Mike and Oliver listened closely. The man spoke of his time bitterly, the history within the hot zones in Kyrgyzstan was something he did not like to retell, yet he did it anyways. From the constant ambushes to him displaying his frustration of the lack of support from the United Nations and NATO, he eventually moved to tell how the crumbling Chinese Communist Party kneecapped his ability to fight as they supplied more and more weapons to the insurgency costing him the lives of one hundred of his men.
Neither Mike nor Oliver knew how to respond. The United States had long withdrawn from NATO and the UN following events within the war in Africa. That didn’t stop the major from criticizing the decisions made in the White House. The then sitting President had refused to allocate Special Forces to the region to help the counter-insurgency movement. It was a decision which cost Pakistan greatly, thus this one event began to spiral into the current situation which enveloped the country today.
Moving away from the conversation, Mike was drawn to the side doors that had just opened. Eventually the noise that was equally spread throughout the venue had now focused on the two individuals walking out towards a stage at the front of the large hall. The US ambassador and the Pakistani President walked at a brisk pace, and soon the ambassador had found himself looking upon the large crowd of military personnel, VIPs, and news reporters. Letting out short cough and presenting a call to silence, the man stabled himself on the wooden podium.
“People of Pakistan. Citizens of the United States and representatives from the Army and Marine Corps, I come to you with news that will change the state of this republic. As of eight-thirty in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, the United States of America, the Russian Federation, the Republic of India, and the nation of Japan have all gathered here to unite against this terrorist and revolutionary insurgency that have targeted neighboring countries, and other nations throughout the world. The world is watching as this democracy is under attack, and we can no longer stand idly beside watching this fine nation fall. All those that have been lost to this movement let it be known; the nation of Pakistan will not let these attacks go quietly into the night. As of now, a counter-insurgency campaign not seen on this large of a scale since the Gulf War will begin.”
Cheers and thunderous applause filled the room. Booming shouts of unknown words spouted from Major Tanvir, and Mike couldn’t help but turn pale at the sudden announcement. He knew that a combat operation would happen, after all the Rangers had been deployed non-stop in theaters all over the world since the 21st Century, however the chill that sprung up his spine told the sergeant that this conflict would be drastically different than anything he has ever seen before.
The words spoken by the ambassador were not the final words of the night, yet the Rangers had heard more than enough, and as of now they were ordered to return to the embassy not three miles away by a ground vehicle convoy. Falling behind Captain Oliver, the men moved through the waves of people and reached the secondary exit towards the entrance where their vehicles would be waiting. Mike walked alongside Lieutenant Devlin. He shared few words with the thirty-year old lieutenant he had known for a long time, but their silence would be interrupted as the group of twelve soon reached their next destination.
“I’m telling you man; we are fucked if this campaign is launched.” In a crude tone, Corporal Anthony Richard spoke up sharing what was on his mind, “I swear, some of those guys were eyeing me. Wish I had a weapon on hand.”
“SECDEF basically ordered us not to conceal carry or open carry. We can’t risk a hostile confrontation with the Pakistani’s. Their country is already on the brink of a civil war, and I don’t think provoking them with one guy unauthorized to carry a weapon would go over well.” Mike explained as he moved to the vehicle he was assigned to and climbed in.
“Don’t remind me. Still makes me wonder why we are still supporting NATO in the first place. They left Pakistan out to dry and here we are cleaning up their mess even though we left the organization ages ago. This whole shit show is a domestic problem for Pakistan, and the UN just made it into an international one.”
“Remember Operation Night Wing, corporal? That mission in Zambia is no different than what is happening here, so I don’t want to hear any complaints. You have all gone through this song and dance before.” Oliver said in a sharp voice silencing the two men.
“Yessir.” Anthony meekly said.
It wasn’t long before the two Diplomatic Security agents entered the vehicle. They were a part of the armed response team, each with a tactical gear and weapons to respond to any threat with the intent of evacuating all-important personnel. “Element One, Five is on the move to the embassy. Prep for immediate transfer of twelve Rangers and their attaches.” The agent with greying hair in the front passenger seat spoke into his radio as he withdrew a small tablet from his chest and activated it, his pale skin shining in the soft white light from the device.
“Acknowledged, prepping for transfer of twelve Rangers and their attaches, out.”
The car crawled forward towards the gate surrounding the Presidential palace. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter, and one team was currently inspecting a truck that had been pulled to the side. Mike watched the men move about the complex with shallow eyes, he fought he urge to yawn as the night had finally taken its toll on him. Distracting him from his drowsiness, the front passenger window cracked open as the grey-haired man reached out his hand; within seconds a gray-black, miniscule surveillance drone landed into his palm. He gently took the drone and shift in his seat allowing him access to a small compartment on his belt.
“Hard to believe those drones have been in service since 2015. Wonder why they still use Hornet when Britain is using the owl.” Andrew let out a sharp whistle. He wasn’t wrong, the United States had refused to upgrade to the Grey Owl Nano Drone that was introduced to the military no less than seven years ago. Out of all the technological improvements the US implemented, this was one area where they fell short with any normal unit.
“Unlike most of our allies we’ve been putting most of our development towards squadron and platoon element drones. Only special operations use it, MARSOC and the likes, you know?” In the back the tech wiz of the squadron, Private First Class Jacob Green hummed along as stared at the roof with a blank expression. “For all we know the Pakistanis’ could’ve been using them to watch over us the entire time. What do you think, Mike?”
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Mike looked towards Jacob. He had unknowingly settled into a position of inspiration to the young nineteen-year-old, and often times he caught himself mentoring the younger man as he strived to hold a leadership position amongst his fellow Rangers despite his seclusive and quiet nature. The statement the boy had made everyone arch an eyebrow and turn their attention towards him. Even the two DS agents had stopped their constant line of communication to listen to the response Jacob had requested of Mike.
“I don’t think they would do that. It wouldn’t make sense.”
Andrew spoke up providing his piece, “The sergeant’s right. Pakistan would be making a mistake to launch a surveillance operation against us. Our people would’ve been on top of the President had he bothered to, and need I remind you that they’re asking us for help after all. It wouldn’t make sense for them to antagonize us, and besides, any agents we had on the ground would’ve noticed it instantly.”
“You’re giving our intelligence agencies to much faith. I doubt they could catch something like the owl.” Anthony snorted. The men around let out light laughs or chuckles.
“Alright.” Oliver began with a toothy grin, “Pipe down. Try not to get to riled up in here before we get back to the embassy. I don’t want to have to write a report on why you’ll be dragged inside the perimeter unconscious, understood?”
“Yessir!”
Fatigue had finally set in for the men. Their bodies began to drift off to the sides of the vehicle they were in, and Mike was looking forward to crashing into the nearest bed he could find when he and the others would finally return to the base, they were barracked in. Mumbai was quite the location to be stationed, but he wouldn’t have much time to enjoy it to much as soon enough he and the others would be transferred back to the United States for their new orders. His head gentle rested against the seatbelt that held him in place and he glanced outside of the window next him with silent eyes.
The gentle rain that had fallen from the darkened skies pattered against the car window. It provided a comforting white noise as the car traversed the semi-busy streets of Islamabad. On the way to the embassy the main road was blocked by a car accident and the DS agents coordinated an alternate route on the fly. Their professionalism and expertise ensured that they would return to their objective and original route with minimal downtime. It wasn’t long before the two-vehicle convoy pulled into the main gate to the embassy. Two Marines and a group of private security guards at the gate checked the identity of everyone within each vehicle. The process was annoying to all present, but soon enough the vehicles pulled into the premises and into the small underground garage below the building. Exiting the vehicle first, the two DS agents checked with their superiors before returning to the cars and opening the doors alongside their counterparts in the second vehicle. Mike and Oliver were the first to step out of the car, Andrew, Jacob, and lastly Corporal Conner Ramirez would exit the car shortly after. The Rangers alongside the others from the second vehicle would stretch themselves out; the last thing any of them wanted to do was drain their minds by attending another meeting.
A frown crossed Oliver’s lips, “On the move, Bravo!” he ordered making his men groan, annoyed, as the moved towards the nearest staircase.
Flattening and adjusting the uniform he wore, Mike fixed himself as he trailed behind his squamates. Gently wiping a small amount of sweat from his forehead, his eyes batted to the semi-empty embassy he stalked through; the sounds of his polished shoes stepping on the tile floor echoed in his mind, the empty offices and common rooms painted over his vision in a harrowing light. The light of the moon just barely broke through the line of clouds that hid the starry sky, but then again, the lights of the city would fully conceal what the universe had to offer for this small insignificant world, a fact he was aware of.
As they climbed words were exchanged between the captain and Devlin. Whatever they spoke of fell on deaf ears, but their faces did not paint a pretty picture as both men shared looks of concern. Their words were cut short as the lead DS agent led them into a second-floor conference room. Each of the twelve Rangers took a seat at each of the seats around. Mike fidgeted in his seat until he heard heavy footsteps walking down the same hall, he had just walked down moments ago. Lieutenant Colonel Nicholas Hoover walked into the room, the men stood up instantly and provided a crips salute. Returning the gesture, the seasoned officer said, “Take you seats,” his voice was firm and collected as he watched each man sit down except for the four DS agents which had to stand on the side of each table.
“Gentlemen,” He began removing a small folder from under his arm, “As we begin tonight’s debrief, I would first like to offer my condolences to the loses your company has seen over the last five years, let alone your regiment. We can’t forgive what happened in Africa, but dare I say you all prevented the end of the world with the work you did. All of those that were lost, I can personally assure you that their families are being taken care of and all their needs are being met.”
“Thank you, sir.” The words Oliver said were forced. A light sweat formed on his face and his darting eyes shot to the many clenched fists that his men formed. The memories of the previous war occupied all their minds, and it seemed out of place to mention anything to deal with the last war. Hoover noticed that his words had put the men on edge, he changed topics quickly not wanting to drag out the night even longer.
“Your participation in the critical meeting between the Pakistani and coalition nations have laid the foundation for not only increased trade, but also a possible future between the nation of Pakistan and its immediate neighboring countries. This first meeting won’t only be monumental, our adversaries have been watching us closely and now they will have a significant struggle to put any form of pressure or influence on the Asian continent. What mission objectives you had tonight have changed. Your company, more specifically you, Bravo Platoon have been redesignated under the command of JSOC. The declaration the ambassador made within the Presidential palace was not a coincidence, you will all be participating in a joint SOF operation within Pakistan, more details will follow in the coming months. All I can say is that we have the chance to fix the problems we caused several years ago, I want to assure it happens, understood?”
“Yessir, we’ll get it done.” Oliver spoke for everyone. He was the only one that could consider his paygrade as a O-3.
“Good, dismissed.”
Just as quickly as he had entered the room, Hoover walked out at a brisk pace, his hand instantly flying to the phone that had been buzzing in his pocket for the last thirty seconds. The semi-impromptu and oddly short brief had been completed. As the Rangers began to rise from their seats, the captain amongst the men felt his cell phone vibrate. “Malkovich, with me.” He said after scanning his eyes over the text he had received. Sergeant Zachary Malkovich patted Mike on the shoulder as he followed his squadron leader out the door. There was a brief glance amongst the soldiers trying to determine the problem that was obviously unfolding before them, but the majority left the room only leaving Andrew and Mike alone in the lit room.
“So, what now?” The lieutenant quietly asked. He wasn’t sure what to do with this sudden free time that had just appeared.
Flicking his left wrist and looking at his watch, Mike licked his dry lips. He contemplated his options as he tried to avoid the ever-persistent gaze of the lieutenant standing on the other side of the table. Mulling over several options, the sergeant eventually settled on one thing; to stave off the hunger that had grown in his body. His stomach had provided some discomfort due to the lack of food, so it would be best of him to eat something then try to grab some form of rest before he and the other Rangers were moved once more. “Hungry?” He asked Devlin only to gain a light nod. A small smile grew on his lips as he motioned his hand to the rear door, and soon enough he was departing towards the kitchen area with the lieutenant hot on his tail.
Stepping in unison, the two men were all that could be seen navigating the darkened interiors of the embassy. They climbed a small set of stairs and soon reached an internal balcony that overlook the entire office floor. Walking to the side, Andrew brushed his hand against a light switch, then the humming noise of the LED lights above began creating a white noise to work alongside the rain that pattered against the windows peering into the building. A small amount of moonlight managed to distort the outside image from a distance causing a hazy distortion. Mike kept glancing out the glass window as he stepped towards a coffee pot which had luckily been made within the last half hour. He poured himself and Andrew a cup of the burgundy-colored liquid, then he swiped a blueberry muffin off the counter while the lieutenant suddenly found himself in the procession of a pack of chocolate-chip cookies. The two took their seats at a small table next to the windows.
Mike reclined in his seat as he sipped on the lukewarm coffee. The young sergeant stared at his reflection in the window next to him; his dark-brown hair and worn expression made him feel odd, though he could explain it easily with the countless, sleepless nights he had over the last five years. The peace he had at this moment did not span the globe. It rarely did in this new age where technology was beginning to reach for new heights. It had once stagnated during the early and mid-twentieth century, now it was on the edge for exploding into something more. Human augmentations, gene-editing, drone technologies, space faring civilizations. Humanity was on its next step for evolution.
“Mike.” Turning to the rough voice that called out to him, the sergeant turned his attention to Andrew, “You still talk to your family?”
Shifting in his seat, Mike provided an answer to the unusual question, “Occasionally. Ever since the war, I haven’t had much time to talk to them, but I do try to have a video call with my immediate family every now and then. Naturally we’ve grown apart.”
“Lucky bastard.”
“Where’s this coming from?” Mike asked concerned of his close friend’s disposition.
“I don’t have the opportunity to contact my family too often. I sometimes just send a brief text every now and then to remind them that I’m still alive somewhere.” Andrew let out a short sigh. He clearly had something clouding his mind.
Mike paused. “Right. Let’s just ignore that you are socially inept and introverted. I suppose you can hold a decent conversation though.”
“Fuck off.” The sarcasm provided worked enough to gain a light chuckle from the lieutenant as his spirits were slightly raised. Most of the words they spoke of returned to the mundane talk of their lives outside of the military. They did not stay on one single topic, they switched: house life, girlfriends, or Mike’s lack of a girl, schooling, family, interests. It was something both men appreciated and tried to do whenever they had a quiet moment away from the battlefield. Returning to silence only the humming of the lights and the pattering of the rain against the windows provided any direct link to reality. The two men were seemingly lost with the sudden absence of time from their consciousnesses.
Removing his gaze from the window and looking at his friend who had closed his eyes for just a moment, Mike recalled everything they had been through. Andrew Devlin was his close friend ever since he went through boot camp and Ranger School. With him only being five years younger, Andrew being thirty and Mike being twenty-five, there was an obvious age gap that separated their minds. Mike commonly found himself being mentored by the lieutenant in a casual manner, though he often helped the officer with simple tasks whenever he could. His eyes caught note of the scar that rested on Andrew’s palm and stretched up his right arm. A piece of shrapnel had torn his arm to shreds when he and his unit were assisting EOD operators in a mine-clearing mission several years ago during the conflict in Africa. Along with his injury that had healed, his eyes were sunken in, and he had put on a fair-few years with his service in the army.
At times, Mike wondered what his friend had turned into. Was he still the same person he met at bootcamp all those years ago, he wouldn’t know.
“Should we go back? We have another twenty minutes before we have to leave, and I have no idea what the lieutenant colonel has planned for us. It’s somehow a miracle he gained command of us, the army didn’t want to release us just yet to any normal unit considering the losses we’ve taken.” Andrew said in a strained voice as he checked his wristwatch.
“Perhaps.” Mike said unsure of his answer.
“We’ll be back in India. That’s where the staging grounds for this campaign will be. I don’t want to be caught eating muffins when the captain comes looking for us, but to be fair, I don’t think our enemies in Afghanistan or Iraq appreciate us very much.”
With a light chuckle, the two men rose from their seats with Andrew letting out a light groan as he clasped his hands together and leaned backwards to stretch his back, while Mike simply dragged his hand through his coarse hair to straighten it out. With the caffeine in Mike’s bloodstream, the man felt oddly drowsy, a side effect of his undiagnosed ADHD.
“This thing will be something else, I can say that much.” Andrew said as he walked towards the staircase first, “Last time something of this scale happened was in the early 2000’s. I don’t suppose that it will go well, but if history repeats itself, I wouldn’t mind smashing an army to pieces.”
“Yeah, but this whole situation feels off. I can’t put it into words.” Mike countered.
“Well, we’re Rangers, it’s our jobs to find solutions to these types of problems.” Andrew murmured as the two reached the second floor, “That’s why we became soldiers in the first place. We’ll take care of the problems in this campaign, though we’ll probably have to wait a few months before anything can be done.”
“Right.”
As their footsteps echoed throughout the empty building, a low humming noise emerged from Andrew’s pocket. Stopping at the side of the hall and seeing Mike standing next to him, the lieutenant withdrew his phone and showed the sergeant the caller ID. “It’s the captain.” He murmured as he swiped his thumb on the answer button and turned the phone to speaker mode.
“Lieutenant, do you have Sergeant Randall with you?” Oliver’s voice played in a crisp and clear buzz.
“Yes, sir. Something the matter?” Andrew responded with an arched eyebrow.
“I need you to get back up here, something in the plan has drastically changed.”
“Sir, what do you mean by that—”
“Just get up here! The call came in, the colonel has his orders and is sending us back to India to prep for an immediate deployment back to Iran.”
“The call came in!?” Andrew parroted shocked by the news, “Sir, we’re nowhere near ready for an immediate deployment.” His voice held a sense of urgency as he frantically tapped his foot against the ground trying to make sense of the sudden orders that would contradict the current route the United States was moving in the middle east.
“I agree, but I don’t make the shots here. Get up here.”
“Yes, captain.”
Hanging up his cell phone and turning towards Mike, Andrew didn’t know how to explain what was just said.
“Lieutenant?”
“We need to go. Something is going to hold us back from securing Pakistan.”
----------------------------------------
Publicly Available Information: Intelligence Brief 1 — 75th Ranger Regiment, a diminished Special Operations Force:
Called “Rangers”, these soldiers apart of the United States Army created in the year 1974 act as the premier special operation forces and light infantry fighting force that the army has to offer the world. These soldiers specialize in direct action mission and joint forcible entry operations both in front and behind enemy lines amongst other specialized missions.
As of late the 75th Ranger Regiment’s status as the “most premier” has come into question after the events of 2098 in North Africa. During the campaign over 400 casualties were confirmed and years prior the regiment has sustained 993 casualties. Most casualties were tied to combat related MOS jobs.