Home on the Range

Home on the Range

By Damon Tweek

My name is Damon, and I'm a reporter for the MSP Star-Tribune-Press. Before I worked here I was a FN Field Photo-journalist. I traveled out in the field with the troops and recorded their day to day lives. Since leaving the Corp, I've covered military stories of intrest around the globe. Particularly the exploits of Solos. The tough, mean, independent twenty-first century mercenaries. In my profession I come across certain rumors, some turn into stories, others don't. It was one such rumor that a Mr. Sharkman was here in the Twin Cities. Stories differ but most agree he was a Commander in the Ares 45th Black Dragoons, arguably the worlds most effective special operations unit. I was able to make contact with Mr. Sharkman through a mutual friend, named Takahara, who arranged a meeting at a bar up in Coon Rapids. At first Shark, which was what he said he preferred to Mr. Sharkman, was distant and unwilling to talk about much. But after Takahara explained my background and credentials, he toned down and told me a fantastic story. Names and exact places have been changed for the safety of those involved. Consider this a work of historic fiction. What I have found while interviewing Solos from around the world is that most times they are fantastic story-tellers. Each cannonizes their own accolades into stories which are traded around in a almost oral history. Shark started out his story with a shot of Jack and an easy smile, "I met Tak as usual at Lacucracha, where he talked me into another mission for the Old Man. What he needed was a tactical plug in a situation that had come up in Laos. About three months before my job started, the International Courts at The Hague had passed a cease fire between Loas and the Shogunate. It included disarmerment. Naturally Ares recognized the cease fire and disarmed the local troops in the area, including the Montagnards that it had been training in guerrilla operations. Ares and the Shogunate also pulled forces out of the area to allow a UN peacekeeping force to take over. "Well everyone with half a brain knew for damn sure that the Shogunate wasn't going to just give up their own guerrilla operations against Thailand and Loas. Both nations were in the sights of the Shogun and a vital part of his plans for expansion. "So, The Fox with his usual amount of forsight went to the Montagnard tribes and offered Ares services at a reduced price and said that ex-employees that are deniable would be providing the service, one per village. Well the Chiefs were extatic, they were in no rush to be ground under the Imperial Japanese War Machine, and all signed on the dotted line. "This brings me to my part in the whole ordeal. One of my contacts, Takahara, set me up with this job at a village that I had worked with in the past. It was years ago, but I still remembered the village well. A team of Dragoons and I had used it in a similar operation but there had been twelve of us then, now there would just be me. I was excited at the prospect of leaving the city for a while and living with these gentle mountain tribesmen." 2100 hours. Airstrip, Royal Thai Airforce. August 12, 2046. Shark flew civilian from MSP out to California, Hawaii, and finally Manile in the Philippines. The flight was long, boring and cramped. The seat designers were ex-sardine packing industry from Shark's retelling, and obviously disgruntled when you heard him tell it. During the flight he said he was mindful of his manners to the stewardesses, which elicited a small chuckle from him. In earlier days it would have been different, but he remained respectful. Flying without a sidearm made him nervous, but as usual he made the entire trip with out any trouble. Takahara met him at the air field as usual; a girl on one arm, and a briefcase in the other. "Hey Tak, how's it going?" Shark asked as he extended his hand. "Not bad, I'm just the diplomatic attache to the UN Forces here for Ares International, but I'll be your contact on the side. Let's get in teh jeep and head back to the embassy, the post is having a bar-be-que tonight." Both attended the shin-dig and had a great time, but about four hours into the drinking and danching Tak and Shark snuck off through the kitchen for a short briefing. Seated in a small room, about the size of a broom closet, Tak handed the briefcase that his body guard had been carrying all day. "Nancy was to make sure your orders remained un-compromised. You know the villiage, Ping is still in charge, and has everything ready for you. I don't need to tell you all this but I'm in love with the sound of my own voice, so listen up soldier." Shark chuckled at Takahara's honesty, and sat up straight to listen. "Shogunate forces are believed to be building up forces along the river valley for a winter drive into the heart of Laos and Thailand. The French national forces, their Foreign Legion and what's left of the Thai Royal Army are in pretty poor shape. The Laotion forces are a little better, but the super-trooper and Mechanized forces, mostly aerodyne, will be next to impossible to stop. There are twelve to thirty Montagnard villiages along the west of the river. The Shogunate forces are on the east of it. It is your job to slow them down, and cripple their offensive if possible. I will be your contact, as well as your resupply pilot, and extract pilot if it comes to that. Your code chip, and radio phone are in the case, jack both in. They will self destruct after they are removed. Any questions?" Shark just looked at him with the chrome visor, "I didn't think so. Let's get back to the party." Both did, and were never missed. Around oh-four-hundred the next day, both were flying in an old OV-10 Bronco left over from the USMC north towards the Laotian highlands in complete secrecy. "So Shark, what are you thinking?" "I wish the sun was out so I could look at the country, I really do love this land. That and Zona." "Well get ready to be a part of it for a while, I'll be flying in supplies every five days and apart from that you'll be on your own. As for Zona, you signed all that blank stationary right?" Shark nodded. "Then I'll keep writing letters for the four months or so you should be here to keep her happy." Shark thought about the security that would be required and how he would really miss not hearing from anyone for that long of a time. "No problem I guess, this is the first place I served that I love. Africa was the first overseas assignment for me. That place sucks ass, I hope I never go back." "I'll drink to that, too." Both flew on in silence until nearly dawn. The terrain had risen, and Tak was now navigating between the mountainsides as he flew up the valley to the plateau home of Ping and his tribe. Not too many minutes later, he had the Bronco in an orbit around the villiage's landing strip. It was really just a big grassy field that Ping had hung a wind sock out on, but it served its purpose. Tak lined up the plane and brought it in for a landing. Once on the ground Shark got out. The early morning mist was still hanging low in the valleys and from the sides of the cliffs. Wearing just olive drab fatigues, a floppy brush hat, and carrying a napsac, Shark stepped away from the plane, which Tak kept running. Several Montagnard emerged from the bushes from the direction of the village. Beyond the trees was a single cable suspension bridge, that crossed the chasm to the villiage. One of the Yards walked foward, he was the only one wearing a shirt and hat, and extended his hand to Shark. "Greetings, Commander. For what reason do you come to the village," the man asked. He knew, Shark knew, it was a formality. "I am here to offer all of the men in your village over the age of seventeen the chance of service with Ares International. They will be paid 900 credits a month, and Ares will supply weapons and hardware." "Excellent. You will be our commander." Ping said in french. Shark carried on in French, "You will be commissioned to the rank of Colonel. I am here only to advise, Ares wants to help its frends win. Other officers will include three of your men will be commissioned to Captain. One to lead each Company, as well as individuals to lead the platoons and sergeants to lead the squads. Each increase in rank will correspond to a 100 credit per month increase in pay." "You are the commander here and everyone knows it. You will live with us and we will kill the Shogunate. But what of the village and our crops," Ping asked. Shark went through the maneuvers; this was an oral contract as most Montagnard did not read, nor trust written contracts. A bond was only as good as the man making it. "Half of the men will train every other day, that way there will always be some to tend the crops and the hunting. I will do all the training, and the men must know to do exactly as I say. We must fortify, build machine gun emplacements, build an ammo bunker, fix the firing line, and repair the bridge." A beaming broad spread across Ping's face as he extended his hand to shake, "It is good to have you back Commander Sharkman, we look forward to being part of your batallion again." His english had improved markedly since Shark was last here. "It's good to see you too Ping, but remember it is beg secret me being here," Shark said as they shook hands left hand grabbing right wrist in the Meo two handed shake. "Now get some of you men to unload the plane, there are guns, and ammo in there as well as a crate for me." -- "Excellent, Sharkman. Yes, yes, Big Secret," Ping said sollemly. "Let me show you the village." -- "Lead on," Shark said, but before leaving he turned and waved to Tak. "See you again soon," he shouted. Takahara just waved and stood by the plane was unloaded by the stroung and industrious Montagnards. It was empty in five minutes and he was back in the air. Ping led him into the village, and Shark saw just how bad things had gone backwards. The well was broken, pigs were walking every and shitting, the bridge was looking pretty bad, and no-one was boiling the drinking water. The houses looked ramshackle and had fallen into disrepair. They were the kind built on four foot heavy wood stilts. Ping ended the tour infront of one which was apparently unattended. "This will be your home while you are here!" Ping said proudly. Shark was surprised, he'd assumed he would sleep in the barracks with the men. "That is too kind of you, Ping. This will make a fine office and command center. Thank you." Ping climbed up the notched wood log that served as a ladder ahead of Shark. Inside it was clean and nearly twenty feet long, palacial by the standards of these mountain tribesmen. "I have nother surprise," he said and clapped his hands twice. From behind the stilts of the house below and around a stockpile of rice-baskets came three young Montagnards. Not a one of them could have been over sixteen. Other villagers had gathered around to watch, and prepare for the celebration that would surely follow. Montagnards were well known for their long and vigerous festivals. "I am honored," Shark spit out as he was reeling to catch his balance. He had an input back home and immeadietly thought of her. Would he tell her or not? He had thought he would just come here, train the men, do the mission and go home. The tribal leader grinned a wry smile as he imagined Shark eying the third. She was lighter skinned, and with more delicate features. "Her father was french, when his people were here for the same reason you are." "I don't remember her when I was here last." "She was in another village then, and besides she was too young then. Now she is sixteen and has never had a husband," he said with a proud smile. "You remember when I was here last, Ares soldiers do not take girls." "This is different, you are alone now. And you are chief, Commander." Ping insisted, "My people will not understand if you do not take a wife." "Ping, I cannot take a wife, I have one back home." He lied. "Good, I have many. Three right now." Ping bent closer, "You must, all men who have a house have a wife. If you do not, they will not follow you." Shark looked at the young girls, each were tightly wrapped around the midsection in the brightly colored clothes that made up a Montagnard woman's dress. They were strappless and displayed the swelling breasts of the future brides above their blue pleated dresses that hung to their knees. Shark hesitated -- "All right, I will be honored if the daughter of a man that also came a long way to help your people will live in my house." Ping shouted and slapped Shark on the back. Ha Ben, or Nanette as her father called her, would be the wife of the new leader of the Meo. Nanette looked at the ground shyly as the other two girls turned away, barely concealing their disapointment. Ping bounded down the precarious notched wood ladder and led the girl back up to the house. The girl's silver neklace shone above her almost bare bosom; a tooth brush also hung from her neck. "Na Ben is you wife," Ping shouted happily to the crowd. "Tonight we will have two sacrafices, and tomorrow you will help us kill the Shogunate." Shark bowed to the invevitable, "Ping, as long as I am the commander here no men will stand guard after drinking the Meo liquor." "Very well then, I will beat four buffalo to death, and half the men will stand guard tonight, and the other half will tomorrow night." Shark knew that it was nearly impossible to beat, intimidate, talk or trick the Montagnards out of a party or two. Ping then left to beat the buffalo's for the upcoming party. Shark turned to Nanette and said in french, "So, we are expected to live in this house togther?" "Oh, yes," the girl said happily. "Good. You shall cook, and clean but do not worry, we will not --" Shark searched his vocabulary for the correct word besides 'fuck' and that he did not intend to consumate their Meo nuptuials. Nanette seemed let down as a shadow crossed her face, as Shark tried to avert his eyes from the bosom that was precariously held within the bodice. "You must understand, that ..." he trailed off lamely. Her sentiments were obviously more Meo than European. To her mind it would probably an insult if they did not enjoy the connubial pleasures she planned. "We will talk about this later, Nanette. We have much work to do." Shark then started scouting the village and laying out the machine gun emplacements, trenches, bunkers, ammo sheds, and other necessary constructions. Shark's desire to keep the relationship platonic proved no match for Nanette's desire to have him treat her like the loving wife she knew herself to be. He had lasted through the four wedding sacrafices, and into the following days. But besides that, the village knew the source of Nanette's ill humor. After a few days of not getting anything done on the fortifications or getting changes made in the village, Ping pulled Shark aside and all but said 'Is a Meo woman not good enough for you?' This made Shark realize there was more to his job than training the mountain tribesmen. In fact, Shark was very much taken with the girl that he lived with. The way she took care of his clothes, her thoughtfulness, her willingness to help all told him she was a fine woman by any standard. It was also difficult to turn away from her constant charms and pretend to sleep at night. On the seventh night after the wedding sacrafices, the tribe held another sacrafice party for a group of tribesmen that returned to the villiage after a few years away. Downing three gourds of Meo liquor, Shark was able to overcome his moral inhibitions and consumate his 'wedding' with Nanette. The next day it was evident to the whole tribe by Nanette's beaming smile and 'glow'. Tasks were completed more quickly, the ammo bunker was completed, the machine gun emplacements finished, and the village was gotten back into the habit of purifying all water. Two weeks after the breakthrough, Shark received word that Control would be flying out with two OV-10 Broncos to bring more ammunition and rockets. This was good since ammo for the practice range was running low. Anticipation built in the villiage because they knew that with more ammo, soon they would get to fight the Shogunate. Shark smiled to himself on the morning the planes were to arive. The villiage was shaping up into a fine paramilitary operation. He chuckled to himself at that thought of his appearance. His hair was longer than ever, and his beard was growing shaggy and unkempt because razors were in short supply. If only the Old Man could see him now, he was a far sight from his crisply starched Ares uniform. Another chuckle rumbled from his gut at what the Old Man would say about Nanette and her nearly exposed bosom as she followed a respectful two paces behind him as they walked to the landing strip. The chuckle turned to a sign as he thought of Zona and if she would ever understand his life in this far off alien land? Finally reaching the grass field that passed for a landing strip, he waited in the brush with the Meo tribesmen. By now the village sported nearly 350-tribesmen in the Strike Batallion. Shark divided them into three 120-man Strike Companies, each with designated Captains, Platoon Leaders, and Squad Leaders. This morning Shark was going to the pickup with Ping and two platoons from the First Strike Company. Shark admired the Strike Platoons as they moved through the bush. The Platoon leaders had set squads to walk on either side of the main body to avert ambushes, and when they stopped each man alternately faced right and left. Along with his two platoons were twenty men from the Work Batallion. These were men that did not display adequate marksmanship or were hard to discipline. Shark made it clear though that it was easy to advance out of the Work batallion into the strike batallion through hard work and good marksmanship. Soon the sound of the OV-10's twin prop engines could be heard through the pre-dawn air. Just as it was growing loud, the pair of planes burst out of the cloud cover and descended on the field. Both made a perfect landing right behind one another. Damn, these flyboys are good. Shark ran with one group of tribesmen toward one plane, while another group headed for the second. "Unload in five minutes!" Shark shouted to both groups in Meo, "Then they take off!" As his group reached the first plane they began unloading with the props still turning. Tak waved through the glass and stepped out to greet Shark. Tak stepped out of the plane and shook Shark's hand, "You're looking good Shark. For a second there I thought you were a tall Montagnard." "Sometimes I think I am," Shark said forgetting the fact that he was between fourteen and twenty inches taller than your average Montagnard. "Did you bring any mail?" "Yeah, I've been writing but you forgot to tell me you didn't play tennis?" Tak said as he handed Shark an orange package. "Tennis! WTF!" Shark snorted. "I told Zona you were batting the ball around while out in Bangkock with a bunch of VIPs." "What did she say?" "She wanted to know when you found time?" "Great, well you want to come out here and 'batt the ball' around with me? What's happening in the outside world?" "Pretty quiet, everyone thinks the truce is holding only though it has been hardly a month. What have your patrols found? Any contact?" "Nope, none. Though we're built up and ready for trouble when it comes. For damn sure I'm gonna need more weapons." Shark thought about the old German HK G3 rifles and HK21E's his Montagnards were using. Sure it had advanced ammo with tremendous stopping power, it was still inadequate to fight against modern combat infantry. "I've got over three hundred men now and only enough weapons for two." "Yeah, you'll have more equipment and ammo, as well as more rockets and a mortar if I'm lucky before the end of the month. Have you gotten yourself a nice Meo wife?" Shark shot he head up and glared at Tak for a minute. "What? You're not the only guy out here. They say you can't get anything done without one." "There's a lot of truth in that," Shark said then motioned to the pilot. "Your flyboy is ready to go, it's been five minutes." "Later," Tak said as they shook hands and seperated. "Wish Zona a happy Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years for me." Shark moved away from the plane and made sure all his Meo were acounted for, it would do no good to have one clipped by the propeller. Once he had counted both groups, he saluted each pilot and they turned their planes on the ground to face down the runway. Their engines revved up, and they lifted into the air after a short run, then were back in the clouds and gone. The platoons arrived back by mid day and Shark saw that ammo was stored and weapons distributed. He then went up to his house to open the orange mail bag. Inside it he found a package for himself, a package for his 'wife', and letters from Zona. He handed the package to Nanette once she came in and said it was from Uncle Ares. She opened it and stared at a bright Pink Angora Sweater. "That should keep you warm on these cold mornings," Shark said with a smile. "But I have you," Nanette protested. "Just try it on," Shark said as the thought of the wise ass motherfucker with a twisted sense of humor he would beat for this. Nanetter pulled it on over her head. "Wow! what a sweater girl!" Shark said, "if they could see you back in the Burbs all the girls would quit." "Is that good?" Nanette asked anxiously. Shark nodded and looked in the box. He pulled out a long handled mirror and brush which he handed to Nanetter. She smiled delightedly and brushed her hair. As Shark opened his box, he found the razors and scissors he'd asked for as well as a full set of male and female contraceptives. "Awe shit," he grumbled. "If that ain't locking the door to the barn after the horse is out." He looked at Nanette and started doing some mental calculations, "Maybe not thought." It was time to give Nanette some private lessons on birth control. When Shark started reading the letters from Zona, Nanette came over and snuggled against his arm in her new fuzzy pink sweater. "Who are those for?" "Me, they are from my wife in America." Shark used the little white lie despite himself. "You keep checking the box, I've got work to do." Shark then moved over to the door where light was streaming in, sorted the letters by date, and began to read. Then all of a sudden Shark noticed his nightvision had switched on. He looked over at Nanette, who had a strange expression on her face. "Would you read the letters if I write when you leave?" Shark's answer was a little long in coming as he contemplated. "Your other wife would hate me!" Nanette burst out. "Perhaps not," Shark said thoughtfully. "Not if she could understand the other way the world is here." "What would she think about me," Nanette pleaded. "Let's not think about it. What matters is I'm here now, and we're living and working togther." "But you will leave me for your American wife!" Nanette sobbed. Shark went to her side and cradled her in his arms. Her sweater came between, impatiently she tore it off, her breasts exposed and pushing to her man now. She leaned back on the blankets, pulling Shark down to her kissing him. She undid the belt on his fatigue pants and slipped on hand inside. Inwardly Shark groaned, he adored his Nanette, but so soon after reading the letter from Zona-- "Please Nanette, it has been a long two days and I'm tired," Shark said pulling away from her gently. "You don't love me, you want your American wife," Nanetter cried. "You will leave and forget all about me once the Meo do what you want." She stood up, her face an immobile mask of sullen anger. "You just use us, all of us, to get what you want. Then you will leave like last time once you are finished using us." She held her head high and walked out into the darkness down the notched log. What she said was basically true. Hell, it was 100% true, Shark thought miserably. After sitting in the dark and having a few sips of the bourbon whisky Tak had slipped him in the crate he remembered Tak's final warning. He walked to the door of the house, took the pile of letters from Zona, and then descended the ladder. Crouching over the nearest fire, he burned each letter one at a time. How he would have loved to be able to reread them, but there could be no way for anyone to trace who he was. For Ares' security and Zona's. It was his duty. With the last letter crumbling into ash, Shark stood and turned back towards the house. Suddenly Nanette came running out of the darkness and threw herself on him. Kissing him she thrust one of his hands far up between her strong thighs. "You do love me, you burned her letters." Nanette half dragged Shark back up into the house, happily crying, "You burned her letters, you love me." But before they layed down togther, there was one thing he needed badly. He went to the box quickly and rummaged around until he found the bottle of bourbon whisky. August came quietly for the rest of the world. But not so for Shark. Ping and the rest of the Montagnards were getting increasingly restless to test out their new weapons their the skills that Shark had brought them. They wanted to kill their hated enemies the Vietnamese and their masters, The Shogunate. It required more and more sacrafices and drinking parties to sate their bloodlust. Takahara also continued to bring in news, ammo, and gossip. In Viet-Nam, the Shogunate were slowly building up their forces, something Ping and Shark's partols validated. Corporate games were being played back in the Hague, and rumors even persisted that the Sales Division would take over the operation. This infuriated Shark, but Tak assured him that Intel was still running the game. As the month started to pass, Ping and his men were telling Shark that the Shogunate's guriella's were as close as twenty miles away, moving in convoy strength up and down the roads By September Shark's village had grown to over 400 men, all fully outfitted, with enough ammo in the bunker for several operations. Late one afternoon while sitting on the porch of the house with Nanetter, Ping arrived with a young boy in a loin cloth. "Hello commander, I have information for you." "Outstanding, what is it," Shark asked. "This boy is from a villiage thirty miles east of here. It is full of mostly old women and young children. Some of the men from that villiage even fight with us here. The rest have left because the Shogunate are recruiting and they do not wish to be forced to fight for them. This boy also says he saw Brown shirts moving with the local forces." "Ask him how many, not not just 'many, many shogunate.'" Shark was often surprised by how few of these people could count higher than ten. "He says many many hundred." Ping replied after some conversation between him and the boy. "Ok, take care of the boy, and then get me the scouts." Once they arrived, the Meo Shark had trained in counting, compass reading, and patroling, he drew up their patrol orders. They were to head east to the villiage and observe the Shogunate forces and get an acurate count of their number and forces. Several days passed, when Shark heard from control. Tak told him that the Shogunate backed guerilla's had attacked a Government protected villiage, and that he should be extra cautious now. "Can I stick it to them first?" Shark asked. He was never one to like sitting back and waiting for the action. "If they really show their hand. Give us a call before you do, and don't get yourself caught." "I have no such intention," Shark said confidently. The next day, Shark's patrol returned and he gathered Ping and the two scouts. Both were just boys, but were very receptive to the instruction and technicalities of warfare. "The Shogunate forces are fifty kilometers east of this villiage, on a bearing of seventy degrees. There are two hundred guriella's and fifty of the brown shirts." The brown shirts are the name of the Shogunate heavy combat dress infantry. They are named that not because it is soft armor, but because they try to conceal their hard ceramic armor benearth canvas, tarps, or other poncho-esque material. "We watched them for a day outside of the boy's villiage, then they moved off at dawn. We followed them, and then passed them during their first night's camp." "Good," the boys had learned alot. It took a lot of skill for an adolescent to not freak when seeing the six foot tall power armor of the browshirts, or even the unhuman guise of the brownshirts in just heavy combat armor. Much less sneak past their thermal and nightvision sights. "We will attack immeadietly, and kill many Shogunates," Shark said. "At night?" Ping asked. Despite Shark's training in night patroling, the Meo were still superstitious. "We kill them now, or they will be ready and we will not get to kill as many." Ping let out an excited cry, "Then we will go now. I will give the order," he shouted smiling his big toothy grin. "Good, bring me the company commanders and the platoon leaders." "It shall be so Commander. We will leave as soon as the moon is up." Nanette could feel the exitement in the villiage and in the men, as Shark returned to the house porch. "You go to war now?" "Yes." The march down from the villiage had been an easy one. It was almost all down hill, and the three strike company's made good time. After Shark had contacted control with his mission plan and they accepted it, he had marched out with all three hundred and sixty men in good order. They made it to the Trae Be road just before sundown on the day they left. Shark sat in the darkness with a red-flashlight going over the mission and what he expected of everyone, from the company commanders down to the squad leaders. The men were strung out along a two-hundred yard front with one platoon in reserve fifty yards back, and another platoon on each flank in L-shapes to deal with any Shogunate flankers. Ping was in the center, and one of the scouts were up in a tree above Shark. On the far end was another one of the scouts, he would tell when the point of the Shogunate column was out of the kill zone. Then Shark would have to make a decision as to when the spring the ambush so that he would catch the most of the Shogunate and guerilla forces in the kill zone. The waiting was the worst, with everyone now in place, he had a chane to think of all the things that could go wrong. What if they had missed the Shogun's forces? They would have a straight shot back to the villiage which was almost totally undefended. Shark was alone with his thought for nearly five hours until the double click of the scout in the tree told him he had sighted the first Shogunate troops. It took them only ten minutes to get into the kill zone, then another fifteen for them to cross it when the scout at the end of the ambush told him the point was out of the kill zone. During this time, Shark hoped that the discipline he had instilled in the men held. No one could fire early or it would ruin the ambush. He saw several brown shirts, and knew that they terrified the Meo, though they would never admit it. Their armor was almost impervious to the normal bullets that rifles fired. But now with the new Ares manufactured ammunition, the Meo had a way to strike back. Just in case things got too hot, Shark's troops had EMGLs with HEAT warheads that would punch through the armor like it was tin foil. Shark looked up at the scout in the tree. The boy was franticlly waving that the tail was still out of the ambush, and was very long. Shark then waited another minute, then looked at Ping. "It is time to kill Shogunate." Ping didn't hesitate for a second. He just set his eye down behind the sight to his G3, and squeezed the trigger. The automatic fire split the night like a knife, and three Shogunate troops went down in the blast. Then the whole line opened up and more Shogun troops fell. Fusillades were exchanged, but the Shogun troops stood there dazed and confused. They thought they were in friendly and relitively safe terrain until seconds ago. Shogun forces fell back to the ditch on the far side of the road to return cover. The Meo men, began to lb grenades and more fire opened up on the ends and the platoons in the L-shapes fought off the troops that were outside the kill zone. Shark saw that things were nearly finished and he wanted to halt the ambush before a decent counter-attack could be mounted. He turned to Ping, "We go now. Pull out." "No we stay and kill Shogun." Shark grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around, "No, we go now. I have a surprise." He lifted the detonater from his pocket. Clicking the switch, sent a blast through the night, as screams echoed through the trees. Heads, arms, legs, and big red chunks of meat were thrown into the night as the Meo cheered with an eerie glee as their hated enemy were blasted to smithereens. "Yes, we go now commander." Ping then began to shout to his troops and they began an orderly fall back. Shark fired three red flares up into the night sky to get the signal to the ends of the line. Everyone then began the fallback to the rally point half a mile to the rear of the ambush. All the troops were dragging the dead and carrying the wounded. At the rally point, Shark administered Morphine and other drugs to the men, which were carried if wounded or tied to poles and carried if dead. Shark estimated that they killed or wounded over two thirds of the Shogunate troops. He especially liked the use of the blasting caps he had placed in the other ditch. The hundreds of feet of high explosive blasting cable had been hidden just above ground, and would not have been seen in the confusion of the night ambush. When it blasted them to shreds, he was proud he had helped his mountain troops. The hike back was longer because it was uphill, and because Shark refused to allow the men to take the same path back that they did out. It was a basic tennant of infantry and patroling warfare. Halfway through the night with just three hours until morning, at a rest stop, Shark was unable to find any of the wounded. Worried, he sought out Ping. "Where are the wounded." Ping just stared at him blankly and smoked his pipe. "I can't find the wounded, where did they go?" Still Ping stared. "Did they take the easy way back?" "I did not want to have you worry about it. We killed many Shogun tonight." "I don't care, if they get captured, they will be tortured. They WILL tell where the villiage is, and that it is defenseless." "There are no Shogunate in these jungles," Ping said confidently as he smoked his pipe. "That is exactly what they were saying about Meo, five hours ago." Slowly understanding began to dawn on Ping's face. But Shark could see it wasn't sinking in, he needed someting to make it more human to the Meo Chief. "Ping, we need to get back there tonight so that I can give Ha Ben the biggest loving of her life," Shark then flexed his right forearm and slapped his bicep with his left hand, making a universally understood rigid hand gesture. A huge smile spread over Ping's face and he spit out his pipe as he doubled over coughing and laughing. "Very well commander, we will bring you home to your Ha Ben." He then took off through the jungle and roused the men. Shark was walking to the scouts on point and in under ten minutes they were back on their way. The two hour hike uphill to the villiage was long and arduous. The men were tired, exhausted and bitched every step of the way. Only Shark's occasional call of, "I need Ha Ben tonight," kept them going. Their laughter and leud retorts drown out their aching feet and sore backs long enough for them to make it a bit further. Cresting a small rise to the sound of gunfire, set all the men on edge. It had come from the direction of the villiage. Every Meo soldier knew they were close to home, as if by instinct, they could almost tell the number of paces to the village and it was under two hundred. Shark had to threaten violence to keep them in order and he sent out the scouts. With them away he gathered the men, to keep them in close otherwise they would surely blast as many of their own kind as they would Shougunate troops. When the scouts returned ten minutes later, they reported the villiage was under fire from perhaps a company of Shogunate troops. Shark led the men off at a double time, through the jungle. They were spread out on a front perhaps one hundred yards abreast, and fifty to one hundred yards deep as they headed west back to the village. Once they were in sight, Shark could see the action with his visors, and opened fire immeadietly. The Meo machinegunners followed his lead and shot at where he directed his tracers. Switching to his underbarrel EMGL, he fired on the five brownshirts. Mortar rounds started to land in the villiage and one house caught flame. Shark was horrified as he saw a villager, most likely a woman, run through the street on fire. Angered beyond words, he charged with the tribesmen and alternately ran and hosed in a leap frogging action with his men as they attacked the Shogunate troops from behind. When a bright flash popped about a hundred yards ahead, Shark recognized it as a mortar and it's crew. The white explosion a few seconds later in the villiage clearly showed that it was White Phosphorous. "Willy Peat! Let's get that mortar!" Shark shouted to the squads around him. He crashed through the brush as fire sprayed around him. When he dove behind a tree and it was burst like a straw, he knew a brownshirt was close. He rolled about ten paces away from the tree, and came up in a crouch. He saw the brownshirt clearly infront of him, and leveled his rifle at it and held down the trigger. Ten, twenty, thirty rounds exploded from his rifle, and reduced the brownshirt to tenderloin. Shark walked the line of high-explosive, armor-piercing, incendiary-tracer rounds across the ground and through the tress into the mortar crew. Perforating the barrel and the crew of the weapon boosted the morale of his Meo and they poured fire into the already dead crew. Seconds later, Shark and his Meo squads were headed closer to the village, wiping out all the Shogunate they could draw a bead on. Some of the Shogunate troops tried to run, but the Meo tribesmen were whipped into a fury, and in the firefight that lasted another twenty minutes, Shark estimated that fewer than ten percent escaped. The following days were spent with Nanette and the other women tending to the wounded. Shark had taught them first aid along with how to do many other things to sanatize the village. Nanette repeatedly cried herself to sleep after bandaging and treating the burn victims from the Shogunate's mortar attack. Shark spent a full fourty-eight hours on his feet making sure the village was secure. Elements of his strike batallion that hadn't gone with for the main ambush were detailed to inner and outer security, while the rest of the company's reorganized. The Meo had suffered fewer than twenty casualties. Work details were rebuilding the houses that burned, and the bodies of the fallen were prepared for burial. The Shogunate troops bodies that had falled were impaled and mutilated as is the Montagnard tradition. Shark knew the weeks ahead would hold much fighting, but now he could see the end in sight. They just needed to hold off the Shogunate troops from crossing the central plain of Laos for ten days. In that time Ares lawyers would convene at the Houge, and accuse the Shogunate of breaching the peace accord. When the negotiations broke down into diplomatic yelling and screaming, Ares would send in the airmobile and mechanized elements of the Dragoons. Replacements would trickle in as the Dragoons backed up the Laotion Government troops and the French troops. Later still, Shark and Ping led a raid against Shogunate Mechanized forces that captured five Japanese advisors (who weren't supposed to be there) and returned them to Tak's waiting OV-10 Bronco. It was there that Shark learned his mission was over. "Shark, we've got the Shogunate forces on the run and if things go right for General Jericho Holmes, he'll have them routed in a final battle. Then the Meo can keep the weapons and go back to their lives for a while. What do you think about that?" "Sounds good to me," Shark said as he looked down at his matted hair, dark skin, dirty feet, and loincloth. "As soon as this sacrafice party gets done with and the half partying sobers up, I'll notify the whole villiage." "What about you and that little lady?" "That is going to be one of the little tragedies of this war. We'll just have to say good bye," Shark said sullenly. "Well you've got about five days. That is how long command calculates it will take for Jericho to do his job. Then I'll come pick you up. See ya then." Tak turned and boarded his plane. Shark waved to Tak as his plane took off. Now he just had to go see Nanette and say goodbye. Then Shark could go home to Zona.

Copywight 1998. Elmer Fud Industwies. All wights weserved.

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