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Chapter 2: 1-2 Rumble in the Jungle

Date: May 19th, 2022

Location: Former Democratic Republic of the Congo

The temperature was slowly rising as the African sun continued to gain traction in its upwards slog in the sky. Not that it made much of a difference, only increasing the discomfort of the already damp air. Callum fussed with the straps of his pack. Shifting the weight and readjusting his rifle slung across his chest. His eyes scanning the underbrush off the edge of the road. Also, over the locals, he was tasked with "advising." Feeling as though he had to have eyes in the back of his head around them.

They were a mixed bunch, really. Callum had only been in country for several weeks, and so far, the local troops he and his team had been attached to had been severely lacking. Some were veterans, at least in the sense that they had seen some fighting. The turmoil much of the region had been in as of late had seen to that. Though their experience was mostly with overwhelming odds, against unorganized militias. Merely men that had at least seen death. There were a large number of green recruits that were drummed up to fill the ranks. Eager the lot of them, but ulterior motives all around. The provisional government in the area was on shaky legs after the dissolution of the former government. The abundant amount of factions in the government, as well as rebel groups, did not bode well for the new government.

Hence where they came in. Training local troops and fighting in unconventional warfare was the bread and butter of the Green Berets. Though Callum mused, their motives were not really out of the kindness of their own hearts. A new super material had been found in the region. The US and its allies were trying to get into the good graces of the provisional government. As to gain access and rights to the material.

Supposedly it was revolutionary, being able to replace many components in the aerospace field and apparently could be used for so much more. Though that was all hearsay at this point and way above his station.

They were in a bit of a bind, though, even with the local's training or lack thereof at the moment. Their current orders and the reason they were out humping it through the jungle. AFRICOM had sent down that they needed to mobilize and act as part of a guard force for a diplomatic and scientific mission centered around securing access to the small Sub Saharan country's new mines.

Orders were to sweep in front of the convoy of diplomats and scientists accompanying them. Then join up with the convoy for the last leg of the journey to their destination. So far, they had cleared a large swath of land and had not encountered anything. Not a soul so far, as the UAV operator had confirmed. Which was not surprising as they were well away from any population centers.

Though they could have at least supplied us with some transportation,

His introspection was drawn short as his team lead conveyed that the convoy was only a couple miles back and ready to mount up. Leisurely, Callum moved across the dirt road. Taking care to avoid the deep ruts, filled with a small amount of water in the road. Most likely from some heavy equipment moving to the mine, he mused. He could hear the convoy long before he could see the convoy slowly making their way towards them. Only about 100 yards away when he finally made it to the other side of the road with his team after picking his way through to avoid the ruts and getting his ass soaked.

The diplomatic team was in an M-ATV at the center of the convoy. Several M-ATVs both leading and tailing with a smattering of deuce and halves in the rear. The convoy slowed and eventually came to a halt in front of his team. Allowing his team to mount up spreading themselves throughout the convoy. He was moving towards the rear of the convoy when he noticed a very familiar face behind the glass of the diplomats M-ATV — his brother.

His nose buried in a large number of documents oblivious to the world around him.

Why in the hell is he here?

The last time he had talked to Will was several weeks before as he had called to congratulate him on graduating from university and starting his new job. He was definitely the brains of the family. Having gone the academic route and following his passions in robotics and artificial intelligence.

He heard he got a job and a well paying one at that, but not for who he was working for. It seemed very likely that he had found a job for the government or a contractor under the government. If he had to wager money, it was the contractor route—much better pay. Though he would have figured he'd be in some lab stateside safe. Not in this shithole.

Though here he was.

Callum shook his head, making it up in his head to talk to his brother once the opportunity presented itself. While pulling himself up into the M-ATV directly behind his brother's. Not wasting any time, the convoy began to move with only several miles to go until they arrived at their destination.

Their mood was pretty relaxed at this point as their UAVs had not spotted anything in the last leg of the trip with thermal imaging. It should be a pretty calm, albeit rough ride the last few miles.

That was not to be, though. Once there were only about a mile from the mine, several patches of ground along the edge of the road were thrown up at the front of the convoy. Rebels armed with RPGs stood from their hides, took aim, and fired at the lead M-ATV. Three rockets flew towards the M-ATV, one screaming high but the other two impacting the driver's side and engine block. Rendering it a smoking husk with ammunition starting to cook-off. The same actions also occurring at the rear of the convoy by other fighters. The tail vehicle fared slightly better, only taking one RPG but still becoming a mobility kill its engine taking the impact.

This all occurred within seconds, his radio flaring up with activity. Orders being relayed and contacts being called out as they appeared. Callum's own M-ATV started to take small arms fire from more fighters coming out from hides along the road, and from the jungle. He could feel the reverberations in his chest as the M2 on the roof began returning fire—the finger length .50 caliber casing and links raining down between the gunner's feet. Several rebels to his side of the M-ATV on the receiving end of its cartridges slumping to the ground. Either missing chunks of their torsos or limbs being sheared off by the destructive power of the heavy machine gun. Futile in their attempt to charge the small distance from the hole they sprouted from and overwhelm them.

His radio barking in his ear transmitting that both the front and rear of the convoy had been hit. Essentially boxing them in as the jungle had grown much denser, the closer they had moved to the mine, leaving no room to maneuver the vehicles and escape the ambush. Leaving only one real option. To fight their way out of the trap.

Callum readied his rifle and made ready to exit the M-ATV. The gunner above still laying down hate along with the rest of the convoy. M2s and MK19s chewing up any fighters to unlucky to be in their sights.

Using one hand, he swung open the armored door pushing it fully open with his foot. Allowing him to bring his rifle to bear on a fighter standing up from cover in the underbrush. Loosing several rounds into the fighter's chest. Not losing the momentum, he sprung from the vehicle crossing the several feet to a small dip next to the road. Dispatching another fighter taken by surprise taking cover in the dip, and taking over his position.

In a practiced motion, he grabbed a spare magazine from his plate carrier and swapped mags. Reindexing the partially depleted magazine into the carrier. Bringing the rifle again to his shoulder. Callum began laying down some suppressive fire on some of the other enemy positions. Allowing more of his men and the security detail to dismount. He also couldn't help but steal peaks at his brother's M-ATV to make sure he was still ok. It was still all in one piece, for the most part, thankfully.

Releasing a bit of the tension he had felt in the shoulders, he continued working his rifle. Line up, squeeze, repeat, letting off a few underslung grenades as well when the situation presented. Taking out several enemy fighters as they had grouped way to close together. Slowly the time dragged by. Having been no more than a few minutes but having felt like an eternity. At some point, he heard his team lead call for Apache support over comms as they continued to engage.

Slowly under their withering fire, more and more rebel fighters fell. He could also start to make out the faint thump of rotor blades as what he assumed was the sound of gunships made their approach over the din of gunfire. Rockets streaking into the jungle signaled their arrival, the already lost battle was forfeit. Rebels started to make breaks for the jungles being hit by rockets and cut down by 30mm chaingun from their newly-arrived aerial support. Few stopped to return fire, and those that did were unceremoniously cut down.

As the gunfire started to die down, Callum pulled himself out of the dip and made his way over to check on his brother and the other VIPs. Stopping first at his vehicle to grab his pack to be able to rearm. He came up right next to the M-ATV housing the VIPs and pulled himself up to look through the window. Will was covering his ears with his hands and hiding low in the seat, the other occupants doing the same. Feeling relieved, he pounded on the window twice—the sound other than gunfire, causing his brother to look up.

With a bit of a grin, Callum gave a thumbs up to ask if they were ok in there. His brother, a bit surprised and looking dazed, gave him a thumbs-up back. Much more shakily than his own. Still grinning, Callum gave the window one more smack and hopped down from the running board back onto the ground.

He is ok at least, though I'm sure shaken up. Well, a bit more than shaken, up.

Not that he could blame him at all. Adrenaline was still pumping through him, and he was sure pretty soon he would soon crash from the euphoric high of combat.

Noticing someone motioning for him, he swiftly made his way over to one of his guys. The gunfire had waned, all really left were the moans of the wounded and the rhythmic thump of rotor blades as the gunships settled into a low orbit around the convoy. The guy motioning for him to come over was one of the local fighters he had been advising. His name was Kabi, and he had been a quick learner. He had his AK much of the local fighters had issued from their government at a low ready pointing into another pit.

This one he could tell was definitely a fighting position. Its cover threw to the side and supports poking out of the top. To keep the dirt from caving into it. Definitely a prepared position.

One they should have noticed. He lamented

Making it to the edge, he peered down at what or instead who Kabi wanted him to see. One of the wounded fighters, a rifle wound on his right shoulder, stared back up at him with hate-filled eyes. He tried several times to command him up, with no response. He motioned for Kabi to grab the man while he raised his rifle to keep the man at gunpoint. Kabi jumped down into the pit and slung his rifle to grab the man.

The fighter simply gave a smirk seeing this, releasing his hand. Which Callum could now see contained a deadman's switch. A wire running from it to a few artillery shells lying half-buried under freshly turned dirt. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. He watched in slow motion as the rounds detonated, and the explosion grew outward. Slowly enveloping the fighter and then Kabi. He could feel the heat on his arms and face—the feeling of being pushed back by the shockwave traveling out from the explosion. The pain starting as his eardrums were ruptured from the shockwave, his own internal organs rippling.

Callum failed to notice the space split behind him in his heightened sense, sucking him in before the blast was able to kill him. His consciousness waned as it occurred.

It all occurred in but half a second, his comrades only seeing him and Kabi being vaporized by the explosion. Will also did not see this occur, his face plastered against the bulletproof glass. Watching as his brother was killed right before him.


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