Team Sergeant of a Special Forces Team, Master Sergeant Mike Mason, was technically second in command. But, sometimes, doctrine and reality didn't always match up. In all aspects of running the Team, Mike took the lead. Part of that was his personality. More to the point, the Captain, though a Special Forces officer, was more interested in the allure of representing as a Green Beret officer more than acting as a Green Beret officer. Captain Wheat should have led the mission. In fact, he tried to stay back on the firebase, nursing an injured toe that he hurt, kicking a hesco bastion full of rocks. However, the medic had his doubts about the toe’s condition and the circumstances behind the injury, so Mike pressed him. The Team would need every able body when they drove into the Tal Bez.

It wasn't the first time the Captain tried to beg out due to some excuse. It would have suited Mike just fine if they could have left him and saved himself the hassle, and if the Team were at full strength at twelve men, he would have. But, Mike sent two of his men home on two weeks' leave to be with family. The wives of his two troops were pregnant and ready to deliver. With ten men, the Captain was one-tenth of his combat power. The Team needed him.

Without any other option, Mike put the Captain in the lead vehicle for the Team’s movement to the Tal Bez. No one on the Team was pleased about it, but they all understood. And since the Captain was with them, they had to respect his rank though maybe not so much the man. The only thing that Mike wouldn’t put up with was if the Captain didn’t pull his weight. As the night wore on and they navigated the hard-packed dirt roads, fording rivers, and through narrow ravines he had. But that was the easy part. The real test was yet to come s they waited at a bend in the road out of sight of the valley entrance.

Standing next to the last truck in line, Mike checked the time. The night would soon turn to day, and his brother hadn’t checked in yet. One reason to plan a raid at night was surprise, it would be a lot harder to do if the sun was blazing overhead and harder still if the Marine company his brother was bringing didn’t hurry up and get in their overwatch positions.

Three GMV's waited, lined up and ready. The GMV was a gunned-up version of the Humvee. They should have been driving the fully armored replacement of the soft-skinned GMV, but that didn't happen. So, like every soldier in history since the beginning of warfare, they complained among themselves and made do with what they got. On the roof of each GMV, a heavy machine gun acted as the primary weapon system for the vehicle. A 240 Medium MG mounted on a pedestal arm beside the passenger seat backed up the big gun. In the back of Mike's truck, his best friend on the Team Tom manned a pedestal-mounted SAW to cover their rear. As part of each man's kit, they all carried an M9 pistol and an M4 rifle. Finally, also in the back of the last GMV, a 60mm mortar, and ammo was accessible to send indirect fire at the enemy. This was how they traveled every time they left the firebase, they were always ready for bear.

Outfitted in desert camouflage uniform, body armor, a vest with full magazines, and helmet, he resembled everyone else on the Team. The differentiator was the salt and pepper beard. Above him, Tom fiddled with the night vision device attached to his helmet. It was almost that time of morning when the sun hadn't come up, but there was enough light to see unaided.

One way or another, this mission would happen, late Marines or not. He and his Team put too much time and effort into the planning and resourcing to not go because of a few things out of his control. When this was over back in the world, there would be years of good-natured ribbing at Paul's expense. Paul’s Marine Company was new to Afghanistan, and Mike tried to tell him the mountains of the Hindu Kush were unforgiving, especially at night. But no, Paul insisted his Marine Company was the best there was. They would move through the mountains with their full kit, like shit through a goose, Mike’s words. No worries. Never mind, they would be lucky to find anything better than goat paths to travel on. Then, they would have to find their assigned positions around the valley. And all before morning. After the helicopters infil'd them, Paul expected his Marines to be ready in four hours. Good luck, Mike had told him. Paul sorely underestimated the challenges of the terrain, Mike knew he would and planned a little extra leeway in the timing.

Mike nervously walked to the front of the truck, feeling uneasy about the approaching sunrise. The delay stretched his timeline nearly beyond breaking, soon, his Team would have to go it alone. The enemy wouldn’t wait for the Marines to get their shit together.

A voice squawked from the hand-mic on the green canvas seat, jolting him with a shot of adrenaline.

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Reaching down from the driver’s seat, Steve grabbed it and held it to his ear.

"Iron 6 5, this is Stallion 2 6, over."

"Roger, 2 6, this is 6 5."

"Roger, inform 6 5 Xray that Stallion 2 6 is in position and all guns are laid in and in position. 1st Platoon is set up to the East. 2nd Platoon is on the West side of the valley. 3rd Platoon is in its blocking position to the north. All as planned, no issues. Over."

"2 6, standby." Steve, the junior communications sergeant, tossed the radio's hand-mic onto the passenger seat of the gun truck. "Mike," he whispered.

"I heard," Mike whispered back and picked up the radio's hand-mic. "Stallion 2 6, this is 6 5 Xray, so you finally made it?" Subdued laughter passed through the hand-mic with his voice. "And only six hours late."

"It took my Marines longer to move into position than I thought it would." The voice on the other end didn't acknowledge Mike poking fun at him. "This is some heavy-duty terrain."

Mike winked at Steve. They heard the chagrin in the voice on the other end of the radio transmission. "If I remember correctly, as stated in the mission brief, I made that very fact known to you. I told you to double your movement time estimate and then add some. But, you and your superior Marine Corps attitude chose not to believe me." Mike smiled, enjoying himself. "You suggested your Marines could handle it. You told me that your troops were hard-charging Marines, not the namby-pamby soldiers I'm used to." Mike released the transmission button. Steve made himself busy checking on a piece of equipment, but he smiled ear to ear. While waiting for a reply, Mike leaned against the truck and thought about how much enjoyment he would get from this moment.

After a few long seconds, a, "Roger that," came from the other end, Paul accepted defeat with grace. There'd be another time.

"You're not getting away with it that easy." Mike glanced at Steve. "Say it."

"Roger that, 6 5 Xray, you were right," the voice broke for a moment, "and I was wrong, over."

The laughter in 2 6's voice made Mike smile.

"I want you to remember, never forget," Mike said into the hand-mic. "You should know by now after our long years together. I'm never wrong. Your big brother does know some shit."

"Roger that, big bro."

"Stand by." Mike lowered the hand-mic all business now. "Steve, call the FOB, and tell them the Marines are set up, and we will be moving in about fifteen."

"Will do." Steve grabbed the hand-mic for the SATCOM radio and made the call.

Mike lifted his head and looked at the man in the gun turret. "Get everyone up. Tell Rick and the Captain to meet me back here."

"On my way."

"Stallion 2 6, this is 6 5 Xray."

"Go ahead, Xray."

"We will be on the road in approximately fifteen minutes." Mike looked east, then at his watch. "It looks like we're going to hit the objective at about sunrise."

"Roger. Sorry about messing up your plans with our tardiness."

"No worries, bro, we'll make it work."

Paul passed on his Marines' grid locations, possible enemy locations, their disposition, and other relevant information.

"I'll give you a heads up when we're ready to enter the valley."

"Good copy and good hunting."

"Thanks, 6 5 out."

Mike tossed the hand-mic onto the seat. The men behind him were busy preparing their trucks and themselves for battle. Facing forward, the dark road meandered into the barren hills and mountains until, out of sight, it disappeared between two steep hills overlooking the entrance. So far, everything prior to this moment had been easy. The hard part was about to happen, kill the enemy and capture the High-Value Targets.

The intel was solid. The HVT's would be in the valley. Every available asset confirmed the HVTs in the Team's area would be in the Tal Bez. It had almost seemed unbelievable they would all get together in the same place. Paul's Marines confirmed it. The enemy's tents occupied the valley's center, and guards were seen around the camp. They were there.

It hadn't taken much in the way of effort for Mike to convince Paul and his Company Commander to get on board. Mike's Team needed the support. It got the Marines off of the base they pulled guard at and out to do what they were supposed to do, combat. And Mike and Paul spent the weeks before during the planning phase being brothers again.

They were like kids all over again, inseparable. It was rare to see a soldier and a marine paling around as they did, and they got a few looks. They went from office to office, always together all over Bagram. The mission needed filled-in requests for support, air, ammo, fuel, and everything they would need to make the mission a go. And they got it done together.

Born a year apart, their age made running around and playing together easy. They were close, so much the same people mistook them for twins. Inseparable was how relatives described them after their parents died in an automobile accident. If one brother was getting in trouble or involved in sports, or girls, or anything else, the other was right there with him. These days with deployments, family, and the rest of being adults, they rarely saw each other. Mike wasn't emotional, but it felt good to be with his brother after going through so much as kids. It had been a merry-go-round. Live with one set of relatives, then live with another, and so on. Mike and Paul would be the first to admit they were not the easiest boys to handle as they grew up. Each of them was enthusiastically taken to the recruiting office as soon as they were of age. That enthusiasm was matched by their own.

After this mission, this deployment, Mike didn't know what life would have in store for him. Being closer to his brother would be a big part of it.