Thomas Calabrese …The Joint Expeditionary Force had been in existence for over three years and had completed twenty four minor missions and seven major ones since its inception. A minor mission was designated as a rescue or assassination and a major mission was an attack on a large hostile force.
Ben the Mossad Agent was the conduit between the secretive group that came up with the idea for J.E.F. and General Doyle. He also operated as the General Manager of the “so called” ultra-private resort. Many countries were more than willing to secretly send hundreds of millions to help fund J.E.F. while denying its existence and receiving protection from terrorist activity at the same time. Each member of the force had to go through several interviews and a battery of intensive tests before they were even considered. A distinguished military record and combat experience were essential, but Doyle wanted more than that, he only wanted a special type of individual under his command. They had to be honorable and righteous and totally committed to the mission and lived by the special code where they would be willing to walk into the gates of hell to defeat evil and willingly lay down their lives to protect their fellow warriors or innocent victims. These were the intangible qualities that elevated and empowered J.E.F to overcome any adversary. This was a finely tuned machine of controlled chaos where every part was engineered to fit perfectly with the next one.
There were a few unique twists that Doyle implemented to maintain the highest morale and cohesiveness in his unit. Everyone received the same generous financial compensation for their efforts and for every year they were with the Force an individual received a ten per cent increase in pay. This increase included the cooks, gardeners, landscapers and housekeepers. Every member of the Force had a private suite and access to all facilities regardless of whether they were in the combat unit or the support groups. If a member of the fighting force became incapable, either mentally or physically of performing at the highest level in combat, he could request reassignment to non-combat role, no questions asked. That was the situation with Slider, who was injured on a mission and unable to remain in combat so he requested a transfer to the culinary staff and kept his same pay and seniority.
Those who wished to resign received a generous severance package while warriors who were seriously injured received lifetime care and the beneficiaries of fighters killed in action received a five million dollars payment.
Doyle once thought about how much all his policies costs so he approached Ben to avoid any misunderstandings.
“Ben, is there an operating budget that I need to adhere to?”
Ben smiled. “Let me put this as vaguely as I can, we have ample financial reserves and a generous budget so let me worry about the exact numbers, but on the other hand once J.E.F. stops getting the job done then those reserves and budget will quickly diminish so simply put; don’t fail and you’ll never have to worry about money.”
“Roger that,” Doyle answered.
The level of intensity at the final briefing was electrifying and each man was totally focused. Doyle looked at his men with pride and respect before he began to speak, “You are professional warriors and have been down this road before so I’ll get right to the point. This mission will take this unit to the next level which means full combat operations and a major impact on the war on terrorism. We depart at 1500 tomorrow, it is fourteen hundred miles to our target, the first thirteen by air transport then we’ll transfer to Ospreys for the final leg. Flight time including changing aircraft is eight hours then we have a three click hump to the village and our attack will commence five minutes before sunrise.”
Two Boeing C-17 Globemasters transports were already loaded with equipment when the fighters of J.E.F. began boarding. The planes touched down near the Saudi Arabia, Yemen border three hours later.
The equipment was quickly transferred to the waiting Ospreys and the men climbed aboard.
“We’re two hours ahead of schedule,” Sanger commented.
“We can get there early, just can’t get there late,” Doyle replied.
The ten Ospreys touched down in a secluded area that was two miles from Marib,Yemen. Fifteen robotics mules were loaded with ammunition, stinger missiles and various gear with a four hundred pounds payload on each one. Two fighters grabbed high tech bomb detection equipment and took the lead, their computerized equipment were designed to pick up any scent of vapors from over one hundred different explosives and equipped with infra-red cameras and frequency finders to pick up remote detonated IED’s. Camouflaged tarps were placed over the Ospreys to hide them from view before leaving the area.
“Night vision glasses,” Doyle called out. The force put on their glasses and moved out.
A quarter of a mile up the road, Doyle received a radio transmission, “Got something.”
Doyle and Sanger walked up to the man with the bomb detector who showed them the screen and readout, “C-4, gunpowder,” The infra-red image showed a large cylinder buried beneath the surface. “Fifty five gallon barrel filled with gasoline” Doyle radioed, “Freeze team up.”
Two men grabbed a piece of equipment off a robotic mule and walked up to the location of the IED that was marked by a red light. One fighter held a chrome tank while another sprayed the area using a special nozzle that emitted a combination of nitrogen, hydrogen and helium at minus 460 degrees Fahrenheit, the explosive compound was destroyed by the extreme cold in less than five seconds.
The man monitoring the bomb detector, “Neutralized.”
The columns moved out and disabled two more bombs before reaching their destination where J.E.F. fighters began taking equipment off the robotic mules, they were right on schedule.
At 0400, Doyle called out, “Sniper teams, go.”
Ten two man teams carrying Barrett fifty caliber rifles moved out.
“Stinger teams,” Doyle radioed, “deploy.”
Twenty fighters carrying two Stingers missiles each moved out.
Doyle then turned to Sanger, “Let me know when you are in position.”
“Roger that,” Sanger replied and seventy five fighters followed her as if they were attached to her hip.
Twenty minutes later, Sanger radioed in, “In position.”
“Affirmative,” Doyle replied.
The fighters continued to unload equipment as Doyle sat calmly and looked at the eastern horizon and when the first faint light of morning appeared, he pointed up with his index finger. Ten men with jet packs elevated off the ground and flew above the village and released a chemical that turned into a smoky fog-like substance that drifted down and engulfed the village to obscure visibility.
“Launch the drones,” Doyle ordered. Five drones took off.
“Night vision off, face masks on,” Doyle ordered.
In unison the Force removed their glasses and slipped on their bulletproof face masks. It was growing lighter with each passing second, “Activate sonar cannons,” Doyle ordered.
The sonar cannons mounted on the drones began emitting sound waves to the village below.
“Move out,” Doyle radioed.
“Affirmative,” Sanger radioed from her position.
The terrorists tried in vain to block the piercing and nauseating sound waves by putting their hands over their eyes and ears, but they were two hands short and in panic began running to get out of the affected area which was into the oncoming forces of Doyle or Sanger.
Snipers began taking out the enemy fighters from their elevated positions as the smoke began to clear while Doyle and Sanger’s teams killed every terrorist they encountered with precise efficiency. Hostages were cut out of their cages and metal restraints and earpieces were inserted into them so that they could move without pain. Sporadic gunfire could be heard throughout the village as J.E.F. members continued their search and destroy mission as Doyle’s team rendezvoused with Sanger’s at the bank’s location. Both groups entered, killing the enemies in methodical fashion as they searched the structure. They found one man quivering under a desk and pulled him out by the hair.
Sanger immediately recognized him, “This is the infamous Jihad Jim; American citizen, rapist, beheader of Christians, child molester and social media whore,” Sanger slammed the butt of her weapon into Jihad Jim’s face and knocked out several of his teeth.
Jihad Jim screamed in fear, “I am an enemy combatant! I have my rights! Take me to Guantanamo Bay; I have valuable information, I cannot be killed, I am on a mission!”
“You can file a complaint with the UN,” General Doyle replied, “remember the American journalist that you burned at the stake? No matter, we remember and his family will never forget.”
Jihad Jim was dragged outside and his wrists were tied together and the other end of the rope was thrown up to two J.E.F. fighters standing on the second floor balcony. They pulled Jihad Jim ten feet off the ground then tied the rope around the railing.
“Light him up,” Sanger ordered.
“Don’t worry, Jimbo, we’ll put your farewell appearance on the internet. Remember the cardinal rule of combat, you can’t ask for mercy if you’ve never given it,” General Doyle reminded him.
A J.E.F member with a flamethrower sprayed Jihad Jim with a stream of fire as the hostages cheered the death of their sworn enemy.
Sanger commented, “I love the smell of burning terrorists in the morning, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.”
“Who says you don’t have a soft feminine side,” Doyle teased.
After the area had been cleared of terrorists, the medical team entered to treat the wounded hostages while J.E.F. fighters dragged the dead bodies out on to the road and placed them face up and side by side until the two rows stretched from one end of the village to the other. The hostages were given the weapons and everything else of value including hundreds of thousands of dollars that their captors had in their possession then sent on their way.
General Doyle received a radio transmission, “We got a convoy of bogies coming your way.”
“Take em’ out,” Doyle responded.
The Stinger teams hit eight trucks and they exploded in a ball of flames as the sniper teams killed every survivor trying to escape.
“We’re out of here,” General Doyle smiled when he saw the words; Jihadists Exterminators: Work Guaranteed, spray painted by one of his fighters. The entire mission had taken less than six hours to complete. Afterward, all film footage from J.E.F. combat forces was collected and edited then compiled into one video and placed on social media websites, General Doyle’s altered voice spoke at the end of the presentation, “To all terrorists, we are coming after you and there is no place you can hide.”
After debriefings, J.E.F. fighters were rewarded with three weeks leave. Ben approached General Doyle as he was leaving the compound just before sunset, “We need to talk about expanding the force when you return.”
“Where are you going?” Sanger asked as she approached from the left.
“Southern California, down by Pendleton, I have a friend I haven’t seen in a while.”
“I’m going to Santa Barbara…want some company?”
“I would…on one condition,” Doyle answered.
“What’s that?” Sanger smiled.
“No shop talk.”
“I can do that.”
The orange colored sun was so low on the horizon that it seemed to rest on the shoulders of General Anthony Michael Doyle and Sanger Stevens as they walked to their shuttle. God was pleased that righteousness, honor and two of his favorite warriors were alive and well on this day.