He wondered how Danielle Vinchenzo was getting on with Corporal Baker. During his last brief headset communication with his men, he’d made sure that Baker was standing down at the moment and could meet with her, though he hadn’t mentioned her by name. Baker had known Goose was spending time with her, and Baker knew whom he was referring to. It was hard keeping secrets from his unit.
And it was harder still keeping secrets from Remington. The whole time they’d handled the prelim brief, Goose felt that Remington knew something was up. But if he did have an inkling of what was going on, the captain had never asked. When it came to a mission—especially a mission the captain had put together—Remington was all about the mission.
But Goose knew that Remington was hiding secrets of his own. He’d seen the weight of them bearing down on his friend. Some of it, Goose had known, was from sending his troops into battle against superior Syrian forces.
That’s not all of it, though, Goose told himself. After years of serving together, they knew each other pretty well. The parts they didn’t know were the parts they had tacitly agreed were off-limits.
Limping only slightly, feeling the rain in his face, Goose approached the group, immediately spotting the soldier he was looking for. “Lieutenant Keller,” Goose called, raising his voice to speak over the noisy throb of the rotors.
Lieutenant Charlie Keller turned instantly. He was trim and fit, and he had enough experience under his belt to be useful in a tight spot. “Yes, First Sergeant,” Keller responded.
“First Sergeant Gander reporting, sir,” Goose said, firing off a quick salute. He hitched his thumb in his rifle sling to make it more comfortable against his shoulder. “I’m designated to Alpha Detail. Your detail, Lieutenant.”
“Glad to have you, Sergeant.” Keller looked out over the two teams still loading into the helicopters. “You checked the troop manifests?” “Yes, sir.”
“I’m glad to know that.” Keller glanced at Goose. “No offense to the captain intended, Sergeant. The captain is good at what he does, but I’m glad to know you had a chance to eyeball the personnel. Never hurts to double-check.”
“Yes, sir.” Goose knew that statement was meant neither as a putdown to Captain Remington or as praise for him. As first sergeant, Goose served as Remington’s ranking NCO. He was the man who made sure that everything the captain wanted or needed was where it was supposed to be when it was supposed to be there.
“Nasty bit of business ahead of us, Goose,” Keller commented.
“Yes, sir.”
“Did the captain give this op a name?”
“Alpha’s part of the op is called Run Dry.”
Keller smiled a little. “Not exactly the weather for an op called Run Dry, is it?”
“No, sir.” Goose stared through the drizzle falling from the brim of Keller’s helmet.
“Who’s Bravo’s lieutenant?”
“Lieutenant Matt York, sir.”
Keller gave a satisfied nod. “York’s a good man.”
“Yes, sir,” Goose said. “When the time comes and we need him, he’ll stand tall.”
“We’re going to need him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who’s our radio operator?”
“Corporal Tommy Brass, Lieutenant.”
“Get him up and running, First Sergeant. I want to make sure we’re operational.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ve got thirty men to our unit, First Sergeant. You’re heading up Alpha One and will be designated Alpha Leader. Who are our other sergeants?”
“Sergeants Crosby and Foley, sir.”
“Crosby is Alpha Two. Foley will be Alpha Three. I will be Alpha Prime. Make it so.”
“Yes, sir.” Goose saluted again. Turning away, he trotted toward the first helicopter that Alpha Detail would use and opened the headset channel. “Corporal Tommy Brass.”
“First Sergeant,” the young man quickly replied.
Goose kept moving across the airfield toward the waiting helicopters. “Corporal Brass, your first orders are to find me.”
“Yes, First Sergeant. On my way, First Sergeant.”
Goose kept moving, feeling the eyes of the men around him. All of them were tense and nervous, but they were ready too. Each one of the men he’d selected for this mission knew he’d trained for what they were about to do.
The two Chinooks stood waiting, their engines idling and their rotors turning in the darkness maintained over the airfield. First developed in 1961 by Boeing after that company bought out the design and Vertol, a helicopter manufacturer in Philadelphia, the Chinook remained one of the best troop and cargo helos in the business of war.
Many soldiers referred to the helicopter design as banana-shaped because of the way the two propellers were placed in tandem, one at either end of the fifty-one-foot-long aircraft. The rear of the helos had cargo hatches that stood open now, receiving troops and equipment.
The closer Goose got to the Chinook, the more the rotorwash slapped the rain from the airport pavement across him. He was drenched in seconds. The Rangers around him wearing ponchos didn’t fare much better, and several of them had ripe comments to offer about the weather conditions.
Corporal Tommy Brass met Goose at the helo’s rear hatch. He was young and earnest, a tech head who’d originally intended to use his army experience to land a job in the new Silicon Valley shaping up in Seattle, Washington, his hometown. Instead, he’d gotten caught up in the Ranger lifestyle and had stuck around. In addition to being a tech head, he was also an extreme-sports enthusiast, everything from motorcycles to rock climbing, and he had the scars to prove it.
Goose outlined the call signs, then let the other sergeants handle their own squads while he tended to his.
Seven minutes after his arrival at the airfield, Goose was on the first Chinook with his team and Lieutenant Keller. The seating in the CH-47D ran along both sides so the troops sat facing each other. Talking was hard over the constant throb of the engines, so as soon as the helo lifted everyone stopped talking.
Seated by one of the few windows, Goose watched as the darkened ground dropped away beneath them. Gaping holes where Syrian artillery shells had landed pockmarked the airfield. One of the
