“The op is simple, insert into the Foal Mountains, and establish an observation post to overwatch Horseshoe Bay and, depending on troop movements and concentrations, potentially running air assets.”

The briefing was into its second hour, I was taking notes as the JSOC officer outlined our plan. We were running with Task Force Orange on this one, a Special Mission Unit dedicated to gathering intel, which we sorely needed if we were going to fight to the Reds. We’d be inserted by 160th birds into the mountains; from there, it would be a two-day ruck to the OP. It’d been a minute since I’d been hiking.

One of the TFO boys raised his hand,” Sir? What’s our QRF?”

“Two Ranger Chalks will be on twenty-four-hour standby until you exfil. Ideally, no contact is expected, so we hope we won’t have to spin ‘em up, but you know how that shit works.”

A chuckle rippled through our little group, “Fuckin A’ sir.”

“Alright gents, anything else? No? Good, step off in forty mikes, grab your gear, and rally in the courtyard.”

We rose and filed out into the cold night air, heading for our separate tents. FOBs and Airstrips were being set up, but until they were ready, Celestia had insisted that JSOC use the grounds as their staging area. Seeing a bunch of Tier One guys hanging around the gardens was a surreal, but welcome sight, I knew the time would come when we’d kick these shitheads back into whatever hole they’d crawled out of. Scotty was all smiles as we pushed our way into the tent, “Man, I feel ten feet tall.”

I chuckled as I moved to my locker, opening it and tossing my duffel bag onto the cot. “I imagine you do brother, I’m really happy for you. Raven is an amazing mare, and you’re a lucky sonofabitch.”

“I know, right? How the fuck did that happen?”

“I bailed on you, and you managed to not fuck it up.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at me, “That’s right, what happened to you that night anyway?”

“Got busy, I went to see Celestia and Luna to let ‘em know that we’d finished up with Wagner, we ended up talking like old times. Decent cap to the whole shitshow, actually.”

Scott nodded as he kept pulling on his gear, “Raven and I were taking bets on whether you found something sweet to spend the night with.”

I didn’t stop loading magazines, “Nah, not that lucky.”

“Raven was convinced you were off getting laid, thanks fucker, just cost me ten bits.”

“Yeah, yeah, bill me.”

Twenty minutes later, we were standing on the flight line alongside our Army friends, bouncing a little to keep the chill out while the helos spun up. When an Equestrian runner came hustling down the line, “Looking for Andrews!”

I held up my hand, “Right here!”

The Pegasi private ran up, holding out a piece of paper, “A message for you, sir.”

“Thanks, bud, be safe.”

He snapped a salute, “You too, sir.”

I returned it, and he took off towards the castle. Who was passing notes on the line? I opened the letter to see Tia’s flowing script.

My Love-

As I sit in my study tonight, I’m forced to reflect on all that has transpired. First and foremost, I wish we had more time together. But war waits for no one, and we are not an exception. I see you from my window, preparing for something dangerous, no doubt, and my heart still skips a beat the same as it did all those months ago when I realized how important you are to me.

As you go tonight, know that I love you beyond words, please return to me safely.

Yours always.

-Tia

I smiled like an idiot; even in the middle of a war, she found a way to let me know what time it is. I wish that kid had stuck around so I could get something back to her. I settled for looking up to her balcony, and there she was, hair flowing in the magical breeze, her white dress billowing slightly in the rotor wash kicked up by our birds. Her eyes found mine, and even from fifty yards off, I could see her smile. I lifted two fingers from my rifle, giving her a small wave, trying to convey everything I felt for her in that one gesture. She raised her hand ever so slightly in kind.

Message received.

“Alright, boys! Let’s go!”

We ducked our heads and hustled onto the bird, I stuffed the letter in my jacket as I ran. Making my way up the ramp and grabbing an empty jump seat. Scott slid in next to me, staring at the side of my head, he reached over and touched my knee, when I looked over, he mouthed, “What the fuck was that?”

Fucking. Caught.

I pulled a notepad from my thigh pocket, “What?”

He snatched the pad from me, scribbling furiously. “ I saw that whole thing, buddy, You wanna be straight with me?”

I sighed and closed my eyes as he tossed the pad back into my lap, after a moment I wrote back, “Whatever you’re thinking right now, you’re right.”

Scott’s eyes widened comically, the pen slipped from his hand and bounced off the floor of the helo, when he turned his head toward me I could swear I heard screeching metal. For a moment, I thought he was gonna deck me, I’d kinda fucked it up, sleeping with a Head of State. He just stared for a beat before shaking his head, I could almost hear him laughing over the engines' roar.

A few hours later we were about to the insert, I’d had time to deal with Scotty knowing, I was relieved in a way, Scott was a brother to me and keeping it from him never felt quite right, plus I knew he’d take it to his grave if I asked. The interior lights went red; one by one, we dropped our NOD’s, a slight bouncing impact, and the ramp dropped. I was the third guy out, behind two of the Army dudes, with Scott trailing, moving through the deep snow. Once we were away, the bird peeled off into the night. After a few moments, Command came across the line.

“Overlord’s up, Radio check, all elements.”

“Disciple One.”

“Disciple Two, five by five.”

"Disciple Three, coming in clear.” I whispered

“Disciple Four, lima charlie.”

“Overlord copies all, start the clock, good luck.”

The ISA guys waved us forward, and we started off across the mountainside.

Two days of trudging through snow and freezing our asses off, we finally descended enough to see green again, thick forest greeted us as we picked our way to the OP Site. Through the trees, I could see snatches of Horseshoe Bay, we finally broke through the trees, and the bay stretched out before us, fifteen miles off. It stayed true to its namesake, a horseshoe-shaped port that led into the Sparkling Sea.

Hunter, one of the ISA guys, whistled, “Beautiful.”

“Right?” Scotty whispered, “Let’s get set up.”

Hunter’s partner Mark pulled out a SOFLAM, and a camera with a telephoto lens from his ruck, Scotty and I started building the hide, cutting down branches to get us some overhead cover. After thirty minutes or so, we settled in, I took the camera, Hunter took the SOFLAM. Even before I zoomed in, I could see ships off-loading troops. I took the magnification up to twenty power and snapped a few pictures for posterity, panning back and forth across the port, getting the full measure of the Griffons' efforts. There were at least a hundred ships between the ones that had docked and the ones still circling.

“Mark, can you get Overlord on the horn?”

“You got it. Overlord, Disciple Two.”

“Overlord copies, send traffic.”

Mark handed me the handset, “Overlord, Disciple Three, we have enemy vessels times one hundred plus or minus ten, troop concentrations unknown but substantial. Sir, if we hit them now, we can dramatically reduce reinforcements to other AO’s. Requesting fast air at this time.”

“Wait one Disciple Three.”

“Disciple copies, standing by.” I stared through the viewfinder, watching the absolutely massive force below.

“Disciple, Overlord. Send target size and disposition.”

“Overlord, enemy size is one-hundred ships, troop concentrations unknown but appear to be upwards of a thousand so far.”

“Overlord copies all, stand by,” a few beats passed, “Disciple, We are tasking a flight of six B-Twos to service your targets, ETA twenty-five minutes. Callsign: Cain.”

“Disciple copies all will advise, out.”

“They have no idea what’s coming,” Mark whispered, a hard edge to his voice. He seemed like a good guy, just all-business.

“It’s gonna be biblical,” Hunter, on the other hand, seemed like a goofball who’d somehow become an operator. I was glad to be working with both of them.

We waited and waited, I kept checking my watch, and the camera, more ships were offloading. If we lost this opportunity, we’d never get it back.

“Break break, All stations this net, prepare for aircraft check-in.”

Mark grabbed the handset, “Proceed with check-in.”

“Cain, flight of B-Twos times six. Full default load for all aircraft. Approaching from the West”

Jesus. Eighty-two five-hundred pounders for each aircraft.

“Ready for remarks.”

“No remarks, the sky is clear, call the shot.”

“Friendlies located approximately 20 klicks from the target area. Attack direction North to South, multiple enemy ships in the bay, troops concentrated on the immediate shoreline, cleared hot. We will be lazing.”

“Cain Copies all, TOT five mikes, send your beam.”

Hunter slipped his finger onto the button, “Lazing.”

“Cain sees your beam, beginning attack run, time now.”

I could barely hear the engines of the “Spirit” bombers as they looped to the north, but if I squinted, I could see them, black dots in a cloudless sky. The Griffs were about to get a lesson in American firepower.

“Weapons loose, egressing South.”

We waited, we didn’t have to wait long, A fresh, salty, sea breeze blew across my face. Down in Horseshoe Bay, the world ended. Some of the five-hundred-pound JDAM’s hit the clusters of ships at anchor, utterly annihilating them in thunderclaps of fire and smoke, the lions share hit the shoreline, blowing craters and scattering pieces of the Griffons that weren’t vaporized outright like grisly confetti, in a line of destruction that spanned the bay. The noise was deafening, the smell of smoke was already in the air, and a thousand or more Griffon warriors died in a flash. I looked over at Scott, he had a brutal smile on his face.

Mark keyed up the radio as the last bomb went off. “Cain, Disciple, Delta Hotel. Thanks for the service.”

“Our pleasure Disciple, Cain is RTB.”

“Overlord, Disciple.”

“Go for Overlord.”

“Disciple is mission complete, BDA one-hundred over one-hundred, nothing left standing.”

“Overlord copies, Good work Disciple, c’mon home.”

“Disciple copies, moving to primary exfil, time now. Out. Let’s break it down, boys.”

Our primary evac was over forty miles away, I broke down the hide with Scott’s help, while Mark and Hunter packed up the kit. Time to get walking.

Twelve hours and very little time to rest later, we crossed our final checkpoint I keyed up the radio, “Disciple passes Mustang, I say again, Disciple passes Mustang.”

“Overlord copies Mustang, evac bird is inbound, ETA ten mikes.”

“Disciple copies ten mikes, Out.”

We all took a knee, facing outward and scanning for threats, you never knew. A few minutes later and I heard the thrum of Blackhawk engines, another minute after that, and it crested the rise, heading for our little clearing, flaring for landing. I kept my eyes on the trees ahead of me, steps from freedom.

I never saw the Russian with the RPG.

Hunter did, “R.P.G!

The rocket jock let go and blew our evac helo in half. The blast was deafening, the wave from it shoved me into the dirt, I heard the rest of the element returning fire. Incoming rounds snapping over my head, I grabbed for my radio handset. “Overlord, Troops in Contact!”