“Lil Scout Alpha reporting modest but growing street activity NW of Taskforce Rattlesnake. “

The small nimble helo rose above the highest buildings to further recon the exfil route of TF Rattlesnake.

“Muzzleflash, shit, those skinnies are shooting at us again Dave!”

“Yep, all of a sudden its busier than 4^th of July on the St Louis lake system. “ The pilot replied in a laconic SOCAL drawl.  He spat dip on the floor of the helo, into his custom spot welded spittoon. “Fuck ‘em, HQ request weapons free?”

Centcom – “Stay on station, repeat stay on station and do not engage street mob. Rattlesnake is in motion.’ On the Carrier near the strait of Hormuz, the sat feeds gave a disconnected clinical response and Dave could almost feel the cold air  of the comm center through he sweaty headset.  On another chancel Centcom relayed to Base Victory “I suggest you spin up your QRF..you never know today might be that day.”

Base Victory replied ‘Roger that, spooling QRF for 5 mike departure.

Lil Scout to Centcom “we are now taking heavy fire, and request airship support ASAP…This ..”In the background the acronym RPG  was heard …”is getting hairy as fuck.”

“Break Break…We are hit, we have lost our tail rotor, angular momentum is uncontrollable, it’s probably too friggen late to allow us to shoot now you dipshits” said Dave the pilot.  The Co pilot Jason called out co-ordinates as fast and accurately as he could, as the rotation sped up, black smoke obscured their vision, the impact threw him against his seat harness restraints snapping his back on the rebound. He slumped helplessly forward. Shards of screen punctured Dave’s faceplate, his legs were pinned underneath the weight of the choppers collapsing cabin. He felt little in the adrenaline rushed post crash moments, until he tried to wiggle out of his seat. Bolts of pain forced him to stop. As he picked glass from his hands and face a shot skimmed his helmet. Looking up he saw a wall of skinnies headed his way.  He ducked ignoring the pain, and pulled his sidearm. This was not going to end well he thought.

 

“Chopper down, Hit the QRF for recovery mission. ASAP.”

“What about Rattlesnake?” Said the controller at Victory Base.

“This is Rattlesnake Actual – we have our package and are on exfil, route Alpha”. Said Captain Jones, ‘We are making big time, and on track to exit the shit hole early. Do you need us to divert to assist Little Bird?”

“That is a negative, secure the package” Came the ice cold clear voice over the battlenet.

“This is QRF Ldr   we are on Alpha, sector 2, All units check your fire, check your fire, friendlies conducting exfil with a package.”

Meanwhile two UH-60’s launched rapidly with snipers in tow.  Centcom, issued orders “proceed to standoff, identify casualties, and keep the crowds away from that crash site until we can execute inbound recovery.”

As the gunships flew closer they saw the swarming hordes of civilians, many armed , firing randomly at the smoking hulk of the AH-6. “This is bigbird Bravo, request permission to drop off recovery/ support personnel?”

“Negative” said CENTCOM, await the QRF it is inbound. Suppressing fire only”

“But sir they will overrun Lil Scout any minute.”

Meanwhile in the back the Delta Force Operator prep’d his kit, clipped the hoist and then free belayed dropping  to the ground in mere seconds…only then did he radio back ‘ Lil Scout-ground support in position, checking for survivors’.

Centcom blew a predictable gasket, the Chopper pilot shrugged and lit up the ground in front of the mob with short controlled bursts from his main gun, in an effort to disperse the skinnies as everyone called them. They slowed, but still came on, the pilot could see soldiers armed with rpg’s and AK’s peeling off into alley ways and buildings to surround the stricken craft. “engaging hostiles, returning fire!” “Stand Down, Stand Down…Damn it, I’ll have you on charges…” The Comms operator lost his cool.

RPG’s flared, fire switched from the downed chopper to the UH-60. “ Taking fire, I’m for sure going hot”

“You need my permission damn it… before you go hot.”

“Fuck your ROE, I’m covering these soldiers’ desk jockey. I’m lighting these fuckers up.” Over the argument Centcom’s political/diplomat could hear the minigun spitting mayhem. “This wont help our cause” he muttered. He quickly lit off a message to DC. “We have a situation….”

Stay tuned for part II