February 25, 2013
By Marcust97 BRONZE, Easley, South Carolina
Marcust97 BRONZE, Easley, South Carolina
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The tarmac was nothing more than a strip cut out of the wilderness, just big enough to land a plan or possibly two when necessary. Tonight was the darkest of the month, with new moon and cloud cover, so that not even a star was visible. In fact it was so dark that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Almost no one knew that the plane was flying in tonight, and with the added cover of the complete darkness this would be a good landing, quick and clean, or so they thought.

It was 0200 hours, local time, as the crowded plane neared the coast. Hopefully in less than an hour the men and supplies would have reached their destination. Most of the men were relaxed, some slept, and still even with the reassurance that the landing would go over smoothly. Some of the men seemed ready for a fight at any moment. Little did they know that before the night was over, they were going to encounter the most difficult fight they had yet had.

The Major had just finished briefing his troops when the clock struck 0200 hours, time to move. They were less than a mile outside the hidden runway. The rest of the 0.7 mile trek the men would have to make on foot. Not too difficult, except for the fact that they had to be completely silent. This night has to go over with not a single issue. They were to sneak onto the base and take it, taking at least one of the men inside alive. Then they were to take the plane as it landed, taking as many of the men, that were priority targets, alive as possible, along with recovering the supplies on the plane.

By the time the men were outside the small bunker with the communications in it, it was 0230 hours. The door flung open, scaring a few of the men for a split second, who thought that they had been detected. It turned out that the man had only stepped outside for some fresh air, and to light his big cigar. In a flash he went down. The infiltrator nearest the mad had moved quickly and quietly in the dark night. He caught his unsuspecting victim off guard and finished him quick and clean. It only took an instant with the razor sharp knife piercing the back of his neck, severing his spinal cord. Before the men left inside the bunker even heard and recognized the sound of their friends body crumbling to the ground, the intruders were upon them.

It was 0245 hours when the plane approached the airfield and started to circle. “This is the pilot,” he said over the radio “is everything clear?”
“Yea, everything’s clear down here,” the radio crackled in response. The answer would have been good enough normally, but something about the tone of his voice didn’t seem right to the pilot. “What’s wrong?” the pilot wondered.
“Everything’s fine. I’m just tired. It’s been a long night.” he replied.

“Alright, I’m coming in.” The pilot’s final transmission cracked over the bunker’s communications system right as the man he had just been speaking to took a bullet to the back of his skull. He had served his purpose, so the Major decided to “let him go” just as he had promised. He could now hear the plane coming closer as it made its final decent. He ordered his men to get into position and reminded them that this night must be perfect. For tonight was his night. Tonight would be the night to end it all, tonight would be history. This would be his legacy.

The men were all anxious as the plane came in. They had all been trapped in here for hours and on top of that they never know what to expect after they’ve landed. Many of them were now on guard after the abnormal transmission form the ground control. As the cargo bay came down, the men stood armed, they examined what they could, and stayed as they were for about half a minute. It seemed odd that the men that were stationed on the ground hadn't come to meet them as usual, but then again they had probably been drinking all night. Then just as one of the men out front turned around to say something to those behind him, his back exploded and he crashed to the ground.
“Sniper!” the man almost 500 yards away had read the lips of a man he assumed shouted the statement right before he took his head off. The men in the plane were now scrambling. Just as planed he had gotten their attention. He knew he was safe for he used a suppressed weapon, but they knew that the shot had come from the direction of the back of the plane. Meaning that all their attention was there and the front of the plane became almost invisible to them, perfect for the trap he had laid. “Move in, now!” he whispered over the radio.
The men farthest from the plane moved first. They had been carrying the satchels full of explosives. They were demolition experts; they knew the exact amount and where to put it to get the desired effect. They worked quickly finishing setting up in less than half a minute.
It was surprisingly quiet in the cargo bay of the plane, for no one knew the position of the sniper and they were advised not to waste all of their ammo blind firing into the jungle. Only about a minute after the first shot, they had lost 4 men and had 1 injured. Almost a minute after now, the men heard something almost like a man shouting “clear”. Then it got loud. The cockpit of the plane exploded off the fuselage. Then enemy forces stormed through the front of the plane, taking the men by surprise. Some of them were now realizing that they had no chance of survival if they fought and were surrendering, and some were making this their final stand, fighting to the death.
The battle was over relatively quickly with most of the higher priority men being smart, and surrendering with hopes to live to fight another day. Most of the grunts were eliminated, and that was fine with the Major. They served no use to him anyway. In his eyes and the eyes of most tonight was a very successful night, he had captured most of the men he was after with minimal casualties. He had accomplished his goal; his name would go down in history

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