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Pop Smoke
Laughing at the stupid jokes being passed back and forth. The dimly lit section of the Cheesecake Factory was the latest theatre for their mission. Mission accomplished meant getting these Pasadena, CA socialites out of their clothes and back to the new bachelor pad as I had recently divorced the previous small-town socialite, I now found myself replicating this calamity at this table. My longterm friend and Marine battle buddy Juice was currently flashing that goofy smile he used every time he wanted to get laid. At over six feet, a muscular frame, and the knack for rubbing words together, his blue eyes and California surfer disposition melted many an undergarment off many a lady. I looked at the biracial beauty I was to make swoon. She was quite the looker, not my usual type, but when in Rome as they say. Since leaving the Marine Corps, Juice and I had taken to taking our training and experience in several combat theatres to the private sector. That's a fancy way of saying we were mercenaries. The outfit we worked for had several lucrative government contracts and mainly sent us out on close protection duties or the occasional capture mission. It was a pretty good loose for us and the pay was good. In our off time, we spent it bird-dogging the local females, shooting, hiking, and any other legal or illegal mischief we could find. Were now on our third glass of the cheapest red on the menu, after steaks and vegetables, the usual crappy before sex food. The juice was now telling his over dramatized Iraqi goat herder story. It's a real hit with the ladies, but after the millionth time, it's just dumb as fuck to me. Our waitress pads over, "did you guys save room for dessert?" in which I reply, "no thank you, " thinking of my waist. Juice quickly contradicts that sentiment, "he is just being a pussy, of course, we're having dessert!" I just look at him with the face. He knows I am pissed as hell. These women are ripe. All we have to do is get them out of here. Juice sends the waiter off with excitement after ordering two lava cake monstrosities for this foursome of trouble to regret later. I pick up the lull in the conversation, just as a subtle vibration in my pocket distracts me. Juice gets the same vibration. I know he did, because, through his buzzed stupor, he jumped a little and gave me that stupid face. Juice and I are a team since my wife left me, we didn't have much contact with anyone other than our employer and each other. We were both at the table, so we had a clear indication that this was likely to be our employer. Sure enough, the encrypted text was orders to report to Twentynine Palms, CA not later but immediately. It had been several months since we had even been contacted. For door kickers and warriors like us, pussy was a thrill, however, doing what we were good at was the ultimate thrill. We knew we had at least a two-hour drive plus a gathering of our gear. We made up a fantastic excuse, paid the bill, left a large tip, and were on our way.
The air-conditioned briefing room was colder than usual. Juice and I sat like petulant teenagers playing Fortnite on our tablets. It was a usual thing for us as we awaited the grown-ups to come into a room and tell us what exactly we had going on. Something felt different about this time. The wait just seemed longer. Finally, the door opens and our boss Slyder comes in with two very official-looking types. "Listen up you idiots, " he addresses us in only the way Slyder can. We have something different planned for you. He proceeds to turn on a projector and a map of a small compound in what looked like Montana comes up. This is way off the books. Juice and I look up at the map in sheer amazement. Slyder begins, what you are looking st is the headquarters of an outfit going by the name of the soldiers of the light. We have reason to believe they are some bad operators with some ties to some really bad people. This is a sneak and peek mission. Engagement with this group is highly discouraged. We have reason to believe they are heavily armed and beyond armed, heavily trained. We need you guys to drop in, hump in and observe. Do you think you rejects can handle that he says sheepishly grinning? Juice and I look at each other and smile. Sounds like a piece of cake boss. Great, you guys are wheels up in 30 minutes. Classic package, I trust you all have the gear you will need. What questions do you have? Juice begins to rattle off our usual mission questions. Rules of engagement, blah blah blah. The only part that interested me was our emergency plan. This time it was really different. We were to best foot back to a forest road and pop smoke and evac by vehicle. In my years, I had never had the pleasure. This was going to prove interesting.
The flight was not long. We spent most of it going over plans and talking about the women we were just with a few hours back. Everyone has a pre-jump ritual. As long as I've been jumping out of airplanes, I have never broken mine. It's dark, a quiet buzz, a low body vibration. Riley, our jumpmaster, gives the signal. I look at Juice That stupid smile. "Time to fall, brother." Danger awaits. Our drop went off without a hitch. We landed about three miles from the compound and prepared our gear for the trek in. We were in heavy woodland forest, damp, the kind of place you expect to see bears and any other imaginable forest beast. Juice and i have performed many a recon. This was nothing new for us. We slowly crept through the trees, around the streams, and arrived at our location. The compound stood with high walls, watchtowers, and what looked like tight roaming security all over the place. We took out our cameras, set up our hide, and began to do what we were paid to do. Being on this sort of mission can be rather boring. The most exciting part was essentially over. The mid-day became night and the hours ticked by pretty uneventfully. Rotating rest time, Juice had to get up to relieve himself. We had a protocol for this. We had a protocol for everything in this line of work. He didn't wander far. I heard him as I kept eye on the compound. What I didn't expect to hear was his loud "oh shit" and the distinctive bark of his M4. Something had gone really fucking wrong. I quickly gathered mission-critical shit. Only to see him sprinting back with again, that dumb fucking look. I couldn't help but laugh. We both did.
As these things often go, we were running, running from what, I don't think either of us knew. We knew the fear; It didn't take much for us to discern that standing to fight was out of the question. There were just too many of them. Trees splintered, and the zip of missed rounds filled the night. We had to get back to the forest road and make evac. Some people jump out of airplanes to feel alive, let me tell you, running from people trying to kill you, is a better way to feel alive. Jumping fallen trees, returning fire, and breathing like dragons for two miles through a forest will make that happen. We reach the road we're supposed to be on. Supposedly there is someone watching this spot. We seemed to slow down our pursuers, but we ain't wasting time. I hastily reach in Juices attack bag and promptly pop smoke.
© Rising Darkstar
The air-conditioned briefing room was colder than usual. Juice and I sat like petulant teenagers playing Fortnite on our tablets. It was a usual thing for us as we awaited the grown-ups to come into a room and tell us what exactly we had going on. Something felt different about this time. The wait just seemed longer. Finally, the door opens and our boss Slyder comes in with two very official-looking types. "Listen up you idiots, " he addresses us in only the way Slyder can. We have something different planned for you. He proceeds to turn on a projector and a map of a small compound in what looked like Montana comes up. This is way off the books. Juice and I look up at the map in sheer amazement. Slyder begins, what you are looking st is the headquarters of an outfit going by the name of the soldiers of the light. We have reason to believe they are some bad operators with some ties to some really bad people. This is a sneak and peek mission. Engagement with this group is highly discouraged. We have reason to believe they are heavily armed and beyond armed, heavily trained. We need you guys to drop in, hump in and observe. Do you think you rejects can handle that he says sheepishly grinning? Juice and I look at each other and smile. Sounds like a piece of cake boss. Great, you guys are wheels up in 30 minutes. Classic package, I trust you all have the gear you will need. What questions do you have? Juice begins to rattle off our usual mission questions. Rules of engagement, blah blah blah. The only part that interested me was our emergency plan. This time it was really different. We were to best foot back to a forest road and pop smoke and evac by vehicle. In my years, I had never had the pleasure. This was going to prove interesting.
The flight was not long. We spent most of it going over plans and talking about the women we were just with a few hours back. Everyone has a pre-jump ritual. As long as I've been jumping out of airplanes, I have never broken mine. It's dark, a quiet buzz, a low body vibration. Riley, our jumpmaster, gives the signal. I look at Juice That stupid smile. "Time to fall, brother." Danger awaits. Our drop went off without a hitch. We landed about three miles from the compound and prepared our gear for the trek in. We were in heavy woodland forest, damp, the kind of place you expect to see bears and any other imaginable forest beast. Juice and i have performed many a recon. This was nothing new for us. We slowly crept through the trees, around the streams, and arrived at our location. The compound stood with high walls, watchtowers, and what looked like tight roaming security all over the place. We took out our cameras, set up our hide, and began to do what we were paid to do. Being on this sort of mission can be rather boring. The most exciting part was essentially over. The mid-day became night and the hours ticked by pretty uneventfully. Rotating rest time, Juice had to get up to relieve himself. We had a protocol for this. We had a protocol for everything in this line of work. He didn't wander far. I heard him as I kept eye on the compound. What I didn't expect to hear was his loud "oh shit" and the distinctive bark of his M4. Something had gone really fucking wrong. I quickly gathered mission-critical shit. Only to see him sprinting back with again, that dumb fucking look. I couldn't help but laugh. We both did.
As these things often go, we were running, running from what, I don't think either of us knew. We knew the fear; It didn't take much for us to discern that standing to fight was out of the question. There were just too many of them. Trees splintered, and the zip of missed rounds filled the night. We had to get back to the forest road and make evac. Some people jump out of airplanes to feel alive, let me tell you, running from people trying to kill you, is a better way to feel alive. Jumping fallen trees, returning fire, and breathing like dragons for two miles through a forest will make that happen. We reach the road we're supposed to be on. Supposedly there is someone watching this spot. We seemed to slow down our pursuers, but we ain't wasting time. I hastily reach in Juices attack bag and promptly pop smoke.
© Rising Darkstar
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