11:02, Hammerhead Provisional Airbase, Undisclosed Location.
Before liftoff, Gunderson passed his hands through his course hair. He was curled into a seat between the helicopter's left and right door gunners. Before him, ram packed in the claustrophobic helicopter was his squad, eight young men in tactical vests over woodland camouflage fatigues. The older guys or "hounds" as they were known, was a sergeant and a corporal, brothers who had trained together, eat together and even shit together for years. They had travelled across the world, Keymon, Hutori, Luthori, Kalopia. From birth to Airborne school they've been watching each other's back, a pure example of a military brotherhood. Gunderson's squad was apart of a strike force who were about to drop in on a gathering of Medinese soldiers and their Trigunian advisers. These souls had picked a fight with the Northern Council and it was certain that they were going to be "curbstomped." This was no insert and arrest mission. Their orders were straight forward, insert, kill, peel off.
Gunderson's Squad, "Package 1", was to be inserted in the heart of the shit storm, with the intention of killing the soldiers and advisers at the heart of the village and giving chase to anyone who tries to escape into the tunnels. Whilst Gunderson's package was working, other Packages would enter to reinforce them, prevent escapes and clear the threat zone. The insert was synchronised, reconnaissance from a special ops teams inserted in the area about a week prior painted a clear image of the target zone. Anti-aircraft guns hidden on the flanks, munitions storage underneath wooden shakes, enemy infantry crawling all over and of course tunnels stretching from corner to corner of the village. The perfect shit storm. At least he could be revealed that the burden of responsibility over his squad did not weigh heavy, he had the competence of Corporal and Sergeant Wolden to back him up.
They had been baking on the tarmac for almost an hour, breathing the pungent diesel fumes from the attack helicopters that would accompany them. Everyone was hoping the deployment would be a scratch, hoping that some coalition bomber would release its payload on the compound. However, the Force Commander Major General Gard Mostad's presence meant that this one was a go. A short, grey haired man in woodland fatigues with a half empty beer in his hand, Mostad walked from helicopter to helicopter. "Don't get yourself killed, Be careful out there" he said tipping the beer to them. The revving engines of the helicopters made the earth rumble, a heavenly demonstration of the might of the Kazulian military. Gunderson watched the ground crew load rocket pods and Hellfire missiles onto the attack helicopters. Usually, the rocket pods were replaced with fuel tanks, this meant that trouble had to be expected.
It was about half an hour later when the strike team leader, Major Kjetil Sether, echoed the launch code word through the intercom. "Strike, Strike, Strike. Strike Force Alpha - Two is a go." The Armada launched, lifting off airfield and into the blue vista of sky. In a close formation they banked and flew towards the mountains. Unrolling towards a misty jungle horizon, Asabiro in mid afternoon sun was so bright it was as if the aperture on the world‘s lens was stuck one click wide. From a distance the village had an auburn hue, with its rooftops of straw and galvanise. By the time the transport helicopters had been within minutes from their landing zones, the attack helicopters were already engaging targets. The distinct pop of the 30mm auto cannon as they pounded heat signatures "jack-in-the-boxing" them. One of the crew men turned to Gunderson after spraying down some poor soul with the door mounted Gatling gun, "One minute!" he informed Gunderson.
The Gunderson's helicopter hovered near the building where the advisers were presumed to be located. Gunderson and his squad kicked their fast rope and jumped for it. Being the leader of the squad, he the was always the last in and out. Alerts from the cockpit ringed hard. "Fuck!" the co-pilot screamed over the intercom. "There a fucking bastard anti-air." The pilot yelled back so hard Gunderson lifted his earpiece from his ear. "Pop Flares and Bank right you fuck!" The helicopter let of its flares and banked dramatically to the right. "I don't fucking see him!" the co-pilot panicked. Trying to take command of the situation, the pilot shouted. "Get the fuck out!" Gunderson knew his queue. And with that he went down the rope. As he did he could hear the pilot shouting to the door gunners. "3-4-Fucking-5. Shoot the fuck!" Maybe by mistake or out of pure impatience, the fast rope crew man, detached the room when Gunderson was about one foot from the ground. "He'd be alright?" he thought to himself. "Son of a bitch!" Gunderson screamed as left the sudden change in gravity.
"Dust Off, Dust Off. Maintaining holding pattern." Sether said through the intercom, signalling for the transport helicopters to dust off from their LZ and maintain a holding pattern circling the area, providing suppression from their side mounted guns and preparing to medevac the wounded. Gunderson, having picked himself up, regrouped with his squad whom had advanced some feet ahead of him. "Let's move!" he shouted over the squad-net, pumping his fist. The success of these raids hung on the elements of surprise and speed. When an area had been filled with explosions and flashes, those in the immediate area would usually drop down or move away. All the mattered was that they entered the building with enough speed and authority to sway resistance. On point was Cpl. Wolden with his 12 gauge semiautomatic shotgun in tow. A quick pull on the trigger and the door immediately surrendered. Whilst the rest of the squad moved to clear the building where the Trigunians and Medinese commanders had been presumed to be hiding, Gunderson reached for the intercom, kneeling down as he dodged stray bullets from other package teams and Medinese soldiers. "This is Package 1, we have reached our objective. Stand by for further." Sgt. Wolden came out of the building to meet Gunderson awaiting a response. "Nothing. It's clear." "Fuck!" Gunderson murmured. "This is Package 1, the Consignees [the Trigunian and Medinese Commanders] are not hom..." Gunderson had been interrupted by the shouting of Cpl. Wolden. "I found a tunnel!" "This is Package 1, we've found a tunnel!" With that the gunfight had subsided, thus it had been presumed that the Medinese Soldiers garrisoning the village had been killed. Those who had escaped would be hunted down by another Package.
The leaders of the other Packages huddled around the tunnel entrance which had been covered by a galvanise sheet. "Do we go in?" Package 2 leader quarried. "It would be rude not to." Gunderson responded, signalling for the helicopters to return to base for ammunition and refuelling.