|
Community Links |
Social Groups |
Pictures & Albums |
Members List |
Search Forums |
Advanced Search |
Go to Page... |
View Poll Results: From whose perspective would you like to see this story continue after post 8? | |||
GI Joe | 1 | 14.29% | |
CIA | 1 | 14.29% | |
Iron Grenadiers | 4 | 57.14% | |
Arashikage | 1 | 14.29% | |
Voters: 7. You may not vote on this poll |
|
Thread Tools |
02-19-2013, 12:37 PM | #1 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
6 Jan 2014, over Burma
The Osprey banked hard, making the occupants glad of their seat restraints. The two bulky BigDog robotic mules, burdened with crates of ammunition, tools, explosives, medical supplies and batteries, strained their straps. Pallets covered with sacks of rice filled the remainder of the compartment. Side Track glanced at the other ten soldiers in the back of the aircraft. They would be living together in difficult circumstances over the coming weeks. He was mildly concerned that they had not had sufficient time to review survival techniques. While the plan was to link up with a CIA liaison and then move in with a local village, they ought to be prepared to live off the wild. He shrugged his shoulders. Two weeks ago they had been assembled in a remote staging base in Australia where they had crammed language, medical skills and regional cultural issues in the past two weeks of lead up to this mission. Colonel Sharp had not been able to give a convincing reason why this couldn’t be handled by 1st Special Forces Group, or why they had to mount the mission so quickly, but Side Track imagined more detail would come from the CIA agent. He stroked his thick moustache and closed his eyes, trying to coax his body into sleep. Some time later the crew chief shouted that they were fifteen minutes from the LZ. There was a flurry of activity, checking and re-checking equipment and then Osprey slowed to a hover, and began its descent, the rear ramp opening as the aircraft dropped altitude. The pilot came over the intercom stating he had received the correct light signal from the LZ. Side Track ensured everyone was ready, and then they touched and they were running off the aircraft, fanning out into a defensive posture. Side Track scanned the trees through night vision goggles and made out a flashing infra-red light. He waved his arm, and several figures emerged from cover. A tall Caucasian led them. “Hey y’all. Andy Meyers. Glad to be seeing you. You got the rice?” Side Track waved over his shoulder towards the Osprey. “Yeah. A couple of tons. What gives?” Meyers waved the local work party forward. The crew chief had already started sliding the pallets down the ramp, and the work party quickly formed a line to ferry the sacks to a string of mules. “Recent flooding cut this region off from the south. The locals are desperate for rice, and so we have a window of opportunity to buy some good will. That gets your foot in the door. Between your medics and the vet, you then expand the goodwill to the point where you start providing security advice. The next step is running agents in and out of China through Yunnan Province. Simple.” He flashed a grin. Side Track stroked his moustache. “Yeah. Simple. Us and the Kachin Independence Army.” Meyers clapped him on the back. “I’ll give you a hand for a few days. Then I’m heading back south.” He frowned. “You’re good to go for coordinating aerial replen, aren’t you?” Side Track nodded. “Oh yeah. I’ve got a comms and computer wizard,” he pointed to a figure kneeling a dozen metres away, “and a combat controller.” He pointed to a female figure “Ok. I’ll sit down with them and run over the comms procedures I’ve used in the past. Let’s go to the village.” |
02-19-2013, 01:40 PM | #2 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
The next morning, the team sat in a circle outside the headman’s hut, surrounded by curious villagers. Children gawked at the BigDogs. The village was nestled on the side of a mountain, with fields in the valley, all surrounded by some of the harshest jungle Side Track had ever seen. Meyers was quietly talking with a young man at the hut’s entrance. Moments later, the headman emerged. His face was carved with deep wrinkles, and most of his teeth were worn to the gums and stained. He stared at the team with absolutely no expression on his face. He stared at the group for a minute or two before beginning a long speech in his native language. At the end, he stared each of them in the eye. The young man who had been speaking with Meyers spoke up.
“He welcomes you to the village and thanks you for the rice, but he does not welcome either your weapons or your mechanical buffalo.” He pointed to the mules, still bearing their heavy burdens. “You may stay the day, but tomorrow you must leave.” Meyers looked surprised , and Side Track stroked his moustache. “I see. Well, we appreciate his hospitality, and we will certainly follow his wishes. I have medical professionals and a vet. May we set up a clinic to offer help during our time here?” The young man translated for the headman, who frowned, and then went off on another rant. “He says you put him in a bad position. He cannot deny his people your help, but you will not see everyone today and they will want you to stay. He, on the other hand, thinks you are trouble and wants you gone.” Side Track nodded. “We will stay only one day. But I do wish a private discussion with him. How many people here speak English?” “Only two others.” “Good. Please have one with the medics,” he pointed to two men, “and one with the vet.” He pointed to a third. Side Track turned to the team. “Bombstrike,” he said, facing the female combat controller. “Go with Med Alert and Sideswipe. No doubt there will be a lot of female patients who will be more comfortable with your presence. Dr Talbot, the animals are all yours.” Fifteen minutes later the headman invited Side Track and Meyers to walk with him. Through the interpreter the headman pointed out various aspects of the village and the surrounding hills, and then stopped and faced Side Track. “I don’t want you to stay because you will bring trouble. The help you provide in the short term will be offset by problems in the long run. I have lived with conflict all my life. I know more about it than you do. You only know the effect on soldiers. You have never had to live with your family and friends at risk.” He stared over the valley. “I will arrange for you to meet with the KIA. They will benefit from your presence. I will tell them you brought food for us and treated us. But you will leave tomorrow.” Meyers looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. We’ve been discussing this for weeks, and this is what you wanted. Why the sudden change?” The headman looked pained. “I’m sorry. You must leave.” Side Track nodded. “I understand.” The headman turned and walked back to the village. Meyers shook his head. “I don’t get it. He specifically asked for our help.” “Maybe he was playing you.” “No,” Meyers snorted. “If you believe that then you aren’t going to get anywhere here. I mean sure, it happens, but not him. No, there’s something else going on. There’s an angle here that I’m not getting.” “Well, whatever it is, we’re packing up and moving on. What kind of KIA contacts do you have?” “Some.” Meyers was lost in thought. “I’ll put a brief together.” He turned to stare over the fields, shook his head, and walked away. |
02-19-2013, 01:40 PM | #3 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
The next day they set out with a guide and their interpreter. They faced a three day walk through the hills and jungle. The second night, in the early hours of the morning, Hard Drive awoke with a scream, clutching his arm. The team rolled out of hammocks and adopted an all around defence, while Med Alert examined Hard Drive.
“It’s a gunshot wound,” he hissed. Wreckage, who had been one of the sentries, cursed. “I never heard anything.” Side Track hesitated a moment. “Stay in your positions,” he whispered. “Don’t shoot unless you have a target.” The team scanned the black jungle through thermal sights. Side Track wondered whether he should have ordered a move to the emergency rendezvous, but the absence of follow-up attack told him to stay firm. They lay still for almost three hours before a few stray spears of daylight broke through the canopy. In the faint light, Med Alert re-examined Hard Drive’s arm. “Broken humerus,” he whispered, and then he probed with forceps. He extracted a misshapen lump of metal. Side Track waved Cross Hair over to examine it. “Looks like a .22. It must have been fired from a silenced weapon with a slide lock.” They turned at loud muttering coming from Wreckage and Depth Charge. Side Track took a few steps over and grabbed them, annoyed. “Watch the noise discipline.” Wreckage pointed to the ground. Their claymores had been turned around in the night. Side Track swore. “It gets worse. Someone not only disarmed our flares and grenades,” he whispered, referring to the defensive traps laid before establishing the camp, “but they took them away.” “I got more bad news,” whispered Double Blast, crouching over the robotic mules. “Someone put a couple 9mm rounds through each of their vital parts.” He examined the mangled leg actuators. “They’ve lost a lot of hydraulic fluid. I can cannibalize the motors from one to fix the other, but it’s going to take at least an hour.” He pulled out a set of tools, laid out a tarp, and started disassembling the robots, laying pieces on the tarp. Hard Drive examined the condemned mule and pulled the computer ‘brain.’ Side Track glanced over at the guide and interpreter, both of whom were pale and trembling. “We must go back,” the interpreter said. Side Track glanced at Hard Drive. “It hurts and I can’t shoot, but I can still work a radio.” Side Track nodded. “We link up with the KIA. We’re closer to them than the village, and the village doesn’t deserve us bringing . . .” he waved at the trees, “bringing whoever is out there after us.” The interpreter and guide spoke quickly. The guide stifled a sob of fear, and glanced first at Double Blast bent over the robots and then at the surrounding trees. Wreckage and Depth Charge pushed through the foliage to sweep the perimeter, searching for traces of their night time attackers. They returned and Wreckage shook his head. “Nothing.” Double Blast ran a test on the repaired mule, packed up his tools, and gave a thumbs up. Wreckage pushed a thermite grenade into the disabled mule’s guts, set it off, and they set forth. |
02-19-2013, 01:41 PM | #4 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
That night they linked up with a KIA contingent.
“We’ve been expecting you,” one of them said. “Come with me.” He led them through a well camouflaged network of trenches occupied by soldiers, including several women, manning anti-aircraft machine guns. They wore a mix of olive drab and camouflage uniforms, all with a red rectangular shoulder patch with white crossed swords and the letters K.I.A. Outside a centrally located bunker, two men in BDUs stood smoking, examining the team with curiosity. One stuck his head inside and spoke a few rapid-fire words. Moments later a short man in olive drab stepped out. Side Track indicated for the team to take a knee, and advanced with Meyers and the interpreter. “I am Thien. I heard you were coming.” His mouth was full of gold teeth. “Call me Side Track. We have much to discuss, but first, do you have a medical bunker? I have an injured soldier and my medics need a place to examine him. They can also examine any sick or injured you may have.” Thien nodded, and one of the smokers stubbed out his cigarette and waved for the medics and Hard Drive to follow him. “We were attacked last night seven kilometres south of here. There were multiple shots fired from silenced weapons, and all our defensive weapons were either turned around or removed.” Thien grimaced. “I have heard of such things. Shadows strike in the night. Once we thought they were government forces, but they are too competent for that, and my sources tell me they strike government forces too. I do not believe they are Chinese. They are a mystery.” He shook his head. “How is the situation with the government forces?” asked Meyers. “They strike from time to time, mostly with airplanes. But I have cultivated sources who watch the airfields and give us advance warning. They are not a major problem right now. But there is a different problem.” He bit his lip and appeared deep in thought. “Come,” he waved the three into the bunker. The entered and sat on folding metal chairs around a map table. A few duty personnel manned radios sitting on folding tables around the perimeter of the bunker. Thien started pointing to the map. “We have forces positioned in key locations in the highlands, protecting our villages and securing supply routes into China. We have a few jade mines that we also protect. Losing Hpakant was a blow, but we have other sources. So far the situation is a stalemate.” Thien leaned back in his chair and stared at the Americans. Then he leaned forward and pointed to an area of the map almost solid brown with tightly packed contour lines. “We have a series of villages in these highlands, as well as a jade mine that has yet to be appropriated by Chinese or Singapore companies. But they are facing starvation. Can you get your vet to them, and bring in rice?” Meyers and Side Track examined the map, and Side Track wrote down the grids. “What do we get in exchange?” asked Meyers. “I know you want to run agents into Yunnan Province. I’ll give you contacts.” Meyers turned to Side Track, who was measuring distances on the map. “I think I’ll stay with you a few days longer.” “It will be at least ten days of walking, and it will be tough on Hard Drive. Once in location we could call in an air drop. We’ll need a few days in situ for Talbot to see to the animals, and Med Alert and Sideswipe can run clinics. But I don’t want to run into any more of those shadows.” He turned to Thien. “Can you provide us an armed escort, and escort our guide back to his village?” Thien grinned. |
02-19-2013, 01:43 PM | #5 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
24 Jan 2014, in the northern Kachin State highlands
Double Blast crawled out from under a truck and wiped the grease from his hands. He flipped open a notebook and jotted down a list of parts needing replacing. He double checked measurements on his callipers, shook his head in amusement, and recorded the figures. “Local ingenuity,” he muttered to himself, and walked over to the next vehicle. Med Alert finished examining a small child, patted her on the head, and smiled at her mother. He recorded the details in a notebook and sighed. They were all suffering from vitamin A deficiency, and many were also suffering from anaemia. Wreckage and Bombstrike stood overlooking the side of the hill. Unlike the rest of the landscape, which was either covered in vegetation or terraced for farming, this one was stripped to the rock. Several dozen villagers chipped and clawed at the rock, pulling out jade pebbles. “It’s a hell of a way to make a living,” muttered Wreckage. “And they’re only going to see a fraction of the open market price.” She looked along the ridgeline. “Still, it makes a useful reference for guiding the aircraft.” A KIA soldier peered into the hut allocated to the team. Inside, Double Blast finished a set of bicep curls, laying down the makeshift weights that he and Sideswipe had jerry-rigged from rebar and cinder blocks. He picked up his Mk48 and followed the soldier to the trenches surrounding the village, climbing into each to examine arcs of fire, range cards, and noting the grids of key features. |
02-19-2013, 01:43 PM | #6 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
25 Jan 2014, 0200 hours
Explosions from incoming artillery and the rip of automatic fire burst over the night time drone of insects. KIA soldiers scrambled to man defensive positions, while Side Track accounted for his team. He pointed to Hard Drive and Sideswipe. “Get the civilians to dead ground and cover them.” He motioned the rest to move out, and they crawled through dead ground to a flank position. Side Track scanned the ground through thermal sights, seeing KIA machine gun teams firing PKMs into the trees, trying to back-track the streams of traced from an enemy firebase. Crossfire stared through his scope and then tapped Side Track on the arm. “It’s no good. That firebase is firing indirect.” As he spoke they saw one of the KIA gunners slump over his weapon, shot through the head. Crossfire raised his rifle, obtained a sight picture, and squeezed the trigger. He ratcheted the bolt back, feeding a new round in the chamber. “One less sniper to worry about.” He crawled a few metres to his left and adopted a new position. “Crossfire, Double Blast – set up a base of fire over here,” called Side Track. He then arrayed the rest of the riflemen to protect the machine guns. He turned to Bombstrike. “What can you get?” “Air support is a minimum of three hours out, and that’s only after they get authorisation to fly a strike mission in Burma, and this close to the Chinese border at that.” Side Track looked around for Meyers, and made his silhouette out about fifty metres away. He was speaking into an encrypted sat phone, which he quickly put away, and then he rounded up a group of KIA soldiers. “Right,” said Side Track. “This is our Alamo. Watch your arcs. I’m going to try to better position some of these KIA.” He scrambled forward as another KIA machine gun fell silent. He tapped a pair of KIA soldiers and motioned for them to stop firing. He had them change barrels and crawl back behind a fold in the ground and move to a new position. They had barely occupied their new position when the trench they had vacated was engulfed in explosions from mortar bombs. He pointed out new arcs of fire and then crawled forward to one of the dead PKM teams to recover the gun. “We have movement in the trees,” whispered Crosshair. “Wait,” he whispered, as the machine gunners tensed fingers on their triggers. At that moment, about twenty soldiers broke out of the woods in section movement, bayonets fixed on short bullpup rifles. A thunderous crack from the far end of the village, accompanied by a bright flare of a back blast and an explosion in the middle of a group of enemy diverted the attackers’ attention. Crosshair scanned over and saw Meyers directing a KIA team to reload a Carl Gustav recoilless rifle, which suddenly drew all the enemy fire. “Now,” whispered Crosshair, as he engaged a rifleman. Double Blast and Crossfire squeezed their triggers, catching attacking sections in enfilade fire. Side Track swore and pushed a dead body in front of him as cover. He threw a grenade to his front and checked that the PKM was loaded. Seeing enemy figures rapidly closing on his position he started firing. Six figures converged on his position and he swung the gun from side to side, trying to engage them. Several fell, and the rest began crawling and returning fire. The bolt locked to the rear and Side Track reached around desperately, searching for another belt of ammo. He threw another grenade, and then saw a box of ammo lying behind him. He turned, grabbed it, and watched a small round object arc through the sky and land just ahead of his position. He slapped the belt in as an explosion rocked him. He cocked the gun and was puzzled that it made no sound as the recoil slammed into his shoulder. He saw an open-mouthed soldier sprinting towards him, bayonet outstretched, and then crumpling as rounds ripped through him. “They’ve broken,” whispered Crosshair, scanning the trees. The incoming artillery had fallen silent, as had the machine gun firebase. Med Alert crawled the several hundred metres to Side Track’s location, examining him quickly and then dragging him back to better cover. They remained at stand to until dawn, the silence broken only by crying children and an hour after the enemy had broken, the muffled sounds of firing deep in the jungle. At dawn the KIA sent out a clearance patrol with Wreckage and Crossfire. Bombstrike, Meyers and Depth Charge examined the bodies of the fallen enemy. Bombstrike picked up a bullpup rifle. The body was reddish-brown plastic. She ejected the magazine and studied the rounds. “It’s 7.62x39, but I’ve never seen anything like it before.” She put it down and took several photos of it, including of the serial numbers and the stamps on the ammunition. Depth Charge opened the green and grey tiger stripe uniform of one of the fallen enemy. They were all short, sturdy Asians, but looked subtly different from the Kachin, and many carried kukris. This one had a tattoo on his bicep of a green shield with a sword and crossed arrows, and the letters CIJWS above it. He photographed it, and examined another body, with a different tattoo: of a gold downwards pointing sword through the image of a face. He waved Meyers over. “We have a problem.” Meyers swore. “Ok. I have to talk with Side Track.” Med Alert and Sideswipe tended to wounded soldiers, including Side Track. “He has ruptured eardrums and a minor concussion,” said Med Alert as Meyers walked up. Meyers nodded. “Well that just forced my hand. Can he be safely air evac’d?” “Oh yeah, that won’t be a problem – assuming we can get a bird in here after that firefight.” Meyers turned to Bombstrike. “Arrange an Osprey to drop off supplies and evacuate your team. You’re down two members, and the situation on the ground has changed to make a US military presence problematic.” Bombstrike nodded. “Good. I have a whole new line of investigation. I need to talk with Thien.” |
02-19-2013, 01:44 PM | #7 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
The KIA clearance patrol tracked blood trails. The snipers the Crosshair had killed had been removed by the withdrawing enemy. Piles of brass and link indicated the location of the three-gun machine gun firebase. Further into the jungle they came across mortar baseplate positions surrounded by empty shell casings, blood, and signs of dragged bodies. Searching the surrounding area, they identified an ambush point, and found more blood trails, a small pistol magazine, and a silenced Sterling submachine gun.
“I think it’s a .22 magazine,” said Crosshair. “Who initiates an ambush with a pistol?” said Wreckage. Crosshair studied the ground. “What if the ambush was conducted entirely with silenced weapons? They open up on our attackers from this flank, right when they’re consolidating with their mortar team. They gain additional moments of surprise because no one knows where the fire is coming from. But some fire comes back, and as the ambushers withdraw with their wounded, the covering force uses silenced pistols to deter pursuit. It keeps from giving away the direction of withdrawal.” Wreckage rubbed his head. “Ok. So who the hell are these factions?” Crosshair shrugged. 27 Jan 2014 The Osprey landed on the ridge, and the crew chief pushed off several pallets laden with sacs and boxes. Villagers ran to carry them away while Meyers listed the contents to one of the KIA officers. “Rice, micronutrient supplements, de-worming medicines, and parts for your trucks.” The officer nodded, and Meyers turned to Bombstrike. He shook her hand. “Maybe we’ll see each other again, but if it’s anywhere other than here I’ll act like I’ve never seen you before.” Bombstrike laughed. “Good luck. I hope we helped.” “We’ll see,” replied Meyers. The team climbed aboard the Osprey which lifted off for a terrain-following return trip to the ocean. Meyers turned back to the KIA officer. “Ok – it’s time to see Thien.” |
02-19-2013, 01:45 PM | #8 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
6 Feb 2014
Meyers and Thien sat in Thien’s command bunker. “Why are the Iron Grenadiers working in this area?” asked Meyers. Thien shrugged. “They talk of creating a new regional power, based on mountain dwellers. But they also want our resources, and to build weapons plants.” “You could use the weapons,” said Meyers. “True, but we are not fighting to join a new nation. We are fighting to BE a new nation.” Meyers nodded. “I think those shadows were out there again. And they fought the Grenadiers.” Thien flashed a golden smile. “I never know whose side they are on, but I will never turn away their help.” “Well I’m not sure I trust anyone who relies on silenced weapons.” Thien frowned. “Yeah,” continued Meyers, “well, now about contacts into Yunnan.” “Ah yes. I have an officer who will take you up there.” He pointed to a man sitting off to the side. “He speaks English. We appreciate your help in our villages. Now, if you will excuse me, it seems I have another visitor.” Meyers got up and followed his liaison out. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a tall, slender Asian woman approaching. “Who’s that?” he asked his liaison. The liaison officer glanced at the woman. “She’s from an aid agency. They have offices in Japan, Singapore and Cambodia.” The woman nodded to Meyers as she passed him, and Meyers watched her over his shoulder. She took Thien’s hand and bowed slightly, and an amulet on a thong around her neck slipped out of the top of her blouse. Meyers frowned, catching sight of the 63rd hexagram of the I Ching. “Come please, this way,” said the liaison, pulling Meyers away. The woman glanced at Meyers, smiled, and ducked into the bunker. |
02-19-2013, 02:28 PM | #9 |
W.O.R.M.S. Commander
Join Date: Nov 2007
Location: Back in the US of A! (NoVA)
Posts: 10,649
|
Nice. New storyline. Cant wait.
__________________
Improvise, Adapt, and Overcome. |
06-03-2013, 03:21 PM | #10 |
Crimson Guard
Join Date: Jun 2012
Location: Canada
Posts: 1,018
|
26 Jan 2014
A warm breeze caused the palm leaves to ripple over the ochre brick building. Two powerfully built men wearing black uniforms and a third slender man in a tan uniform approached the building in silence. One of the men in black, sporting close-cropped grey hair, paused to admire the brick dome framed against the clear sky. The other, also with grey hair, but with a lush Franz Joseph moustache, grunted in annoyance. “Come.” They stepped through the doorway into a room centuries removed from the building’s architecture. Computers, radios and smart boards filled the room, and a small staff in lightweight black uniforms efficiently tracked activities spanning an ocean and two continents. The duty officer glanced up at the arrival of the three men and flashed up the latest situation report on a board. “Sir, welcome to Viper Island. Here’s the latest regional report –" The moustached man cut off the officer. “Nyet. I’ve already seen it. Brief me on the Burma operation.” “Yes General. As part of the harassment campaign against the KIA, a company group of Grenadiers assaulted a KIA outpost. The assault was repulsed with moderate casualties. Battlefield reporting confirmed electronic warfare intercepts that American forces were in the area.” The officer manipulated the board and a map of the Kachin region zoomed into focus, covered in tactical icons. The officer pointed to several locations. “We picked up encrypted burst transmissions at these locations on the date-times indicated. Coupled with radar reports of a low flying aircraft, we believe a small team was inserted to link up with the Kachins, travelled overland to this village, and then extracted. Their purpose is unknown, but is of potential interest to our hosts.” The slender man in tan nodded and a tight smile revealed a flash of teeth. “An American presence on the Yunnan border will draw much Chinese attention. Ideally, it will draw resources away from our northern boundary.” The clean-shaven man in black chuckled. “I’ve told you many times before that we can provide other goods and services to take care of that problem.” “Forgive me, Sergeant-Major, but I remain to be convinced that you can actually deliver on that promise.” Sergeant-Major Duncan nodded and smiled wryly. General Mayhem waved to the duty officer to continue with the brief. “Sir. As the company extracted, they were ambushed by a separate force. All weapons were silenced contributing to the confusion, and the company sustained further casualties before breaking contact. The company is now in a secure location, but has lost fifty percent of its force, including its heavy mortars.” General Mayhem shook his head in frustration. “I assume the company failed to gather useful intelligence on the ambush force.” The duty officer looked grim. “Nothing Sir, except that the entire attack was silent.” Sergeant-Major Duncan glanced at the Indian liaison officer and turned to General Mayhem. “I suggest that’s a nettle we’ll have to grasp sooner rather than later.” Mayhem nodded. “The American presence is unanticipated, but is something we can turn in our favour. I want a video teleconference with the Burma task force commander to discuss a shift in structure and direction based on these new variables.” He turned to the liaison officer. “In the meantime, we should discuss how this affects our agreement.” |
|
|