The room quickly bursted into conversation and chaos as the JSOC Lieutenant ran around trying to get back into contact with the man on the other end of the line, but to no avail. Meanwhile, Dmitry muttered under his breath, clearly appaled at the situation, "Looks like I underestimated 'em..."
Dmitry unslinged his rifle and held it in one hand, leaning it on his shoulder. He faced Merrick with his whole body now.
At the other end of the room, Sergeant Pierce stood up and questioned the major, "Sir...why weren't we informed?"
Merrick was almost speechless, and evidently trying to collect himself after the news, "We received the report just now..."
Meanwhile, the JSOC Lieutenant was rushing around, contacting men all around the AFRICOM base and the region, "We need to get operational now!"
This set Merrick off.
"NO! Hold that order." Merrick promptly dismantled the JSOC Lieutenant who attempted to mobilize his men.
"Negative - Hold!" The JSOC Lieutenant gave his final orders and sat back down.
Merrick spoke again, albeit not as calm as before, "We've already lost our foothold in the north. Crossing through the entirety of Zaire would be a death wish."
Merrick turned to face the rest of the squad after halting the lieutenant.
"The Major's right...." Creed sat there sighing, rubbing his brow. "If we make a play now, we risk more loss and its not strategic. Its best we wait...gain more intelligence on where they're moving these political figures."
Merrick spoke affirmatively, "Maybe all of you understand now what we're dealing with. We cannot take the ZLF lightly. So now this brings me to the real topic of this briefing. At the request of the UN's Security Council and the Department of Peace Operations, the best of the best are to be gathered to create a task force. The purpose is to rescue the EU Commissioner and neutralize the Zaire Liberation Force for good."
Lieutenant Akers looked around seriously, "So we're the best of the best?" The 6'4" figure looked around at the other operatives as if he was scaling them up for competition, but in reality, he liked the look of this team.
Meanwhile, Dmitry himself had no like for the team. Knowing how severe the threat was now, it didn't instil a lot of hope for the man, but he was older and more experienced with putting up with situations he didn't like any part of, so he kept his mouth shut and his outward appearance optimistic, "If you have faith in our team, that's all we need."
Merrick nodded, "Yes, all of you here have been handpicked by the top brass for this operation, but...Do not let it go to your heads."
"So what are our orders now then?" Mercer looked up from his seat and directly towards Merrick. He was seemingly unfazed by the gravity of the situation, but instead eager to execute his orders and fulfill his duty.
"Your orders now..."
Merrick transitioned to the third slide of his presentation.
"...Is to aid the militia in their assault of a ZLF-occupied settlement in the Southwest Province. This is one of the ZLF's most prominent Forward Operating Bases in the province, and will grant us and the militia a strategic foothold to push the ZLF back. As of right now, we already have an informant on the ground, gathering reports on enemy patterns, convoy routes and reinforcements at the site."
Akers spoke up once more, "What exactly does this FOB have to do with Fremont? Is there a chance he could be there?"
Merrick acknowledged the question, "We are unsure, but he could've passed through there. Our informant has reported several large convoys passing through the area as of late. Afterwards, you'll be able to use it as a FOB of your own for your following operations in the Southwest province. All of you are to report to the convoy in the vehicle bay and join up with them to cross into Zaire. Once you've taken the FOB, I will join you in Zaire and act as a coordinator for all your operations. Are we all clear?"
Merrick was met with a loyal unison of acknowledgement. The team dispersed.
---
The JSOC operatives who already had been stationed in Angola's AFRICOM headquarters made their way towards the barracks. Rourke went to his bunk at the corner of the barracks and placed his duffel bag on it. He then turned to his footlocker and unlocked it with his personal key, revealing it's contents inside, a chrome Zippo lighter, a pack of cigars and a Colt Delta Elite M911 and his SOG seal knife , which Rourke holstered.
Rourke then walked out of the barracks and addressed his men, "Report to the vehicle bay in 10 minutes, our transports will depart by then."
Akers echoed Rourke's order to the rest of the men, "You heard the man. Wheels up in 10! Gear up and prepare yourself! The enemy won't let us rest, so we certainly won't let them rest!"
After this, Akers entered his own living quarters and opened his duffel bag. Inside, he had a picture of his daughter, wife, their family-owned floral shop back home in the U.S., a Field Notebook/Journal, and a Hygiene kit. In addition, he carried a specific pistol with the initials "J.S." to remember his fallen comrade from two decades ago.
Akers was one of the more experienced operatives in this region, having been apart of a village raid in Zaire which led to the death of many, including his comrade Jared Sutton.
---
Creed pushed through the barracks door, his boots thudding as he crossed to his bunk. He dropped his duffel onto the mattress, which almost gave out with a loud groan. He unzipped the duffel quickly, "Piece of shit..." He worked methodically and got all his stuff in order. From a side pouch he pulled a small, creased photograph. no faces visible, just a lakeside at sunset. He looked at it for half a second too long, then slipped it into the inner pocket of his vest.
Not too terribly long after, followed the only russian in the task force, Dmitry, being close behind Creed, slinging his duffle over his shoulder, gripping the small ladder with both hands and skipping the 2nd rungs, reaching the top, sitting on the edge of his bunk, setting his duffle down beside himself. Upon settling, he opened it, carefully unloading what he needed and hanging the rest over the edge of his bedhead.
Creed walked over a minute later, not giving Dmitry any time to rest. He stopped at the base of the ladder and looked up at the Russian man with a crooked smile. "Good to meet you mate. I'm Gunnery Sergeant Creed. I'd shake your hand but I think gravity would win if I try from down here!" Even in the most twisted scenarios of war, Creed was like a beacon of positivity and hope among the men he worked for and with, which made him a valuable asset.
"You are awfully positive for an operative trapped in an African military base, aren't ya?" Dmitry slid down, jumping off the bunk, removing his night vision goggles and helmet, only revealing a half of his face, a slowly greying slick back medium length head of hair, focused blue eyes, neatly shaved eyebrows and a nose shape to rival that of a tank. "Gravity won't win down here. Pheonix, nice to meet you too buddy." He reached out to Creed, continuing the handshake until he felt the mans grip get loose.
"Aye, I'd rather be safe and positive inside here than out there with those lunatics who call themselves liberators," Creed shook at the thought of the Zaire Liberation Force. He had encountered them already multiple times, knew that they were a threat, but that artillery base raid did give him newfound confidence.
Many people on the task force, including Dmitry, had underestimated them. But one thing was for certain, this was their land. And they knew it better than JSOC.
"They could be, they couldn't be, all i know is those men are quite capable of doing bad, and not very capable of doing any good." Dmitry didn't seem enthusiastic about this liberation force in the slightest, matter of fact, he didn't even seem interested in the conversation, but he tolerated marcus ar the very least.
"Yeah, fair enough...but we got eachothers backs out there. I know that. I uhh...already knew Captain Rourke, hes a real hardass but he wants the best for everyone, I assure you. " Creed then grabbed his bag, preparing to leave, maintaining that same crooked grin. "We're doing last minute prep for the mission to take that FOB. I'll meet you down there," Creed walked out.
---
David Mercer , unlike the others, was already waiting at the perimeter of the vehicle bay, watching the mist-filled sky while having his duffel bag mounted on his shoulder, as if the only business he had to do was whatever Merrick had in store for him next.
Rourke soon came out to the vehicle bay, surprised to see Mercer already there. David turned to his right and looked at the captain. "What are we up against, sir?"
Rourke stopped in his tracks and properly turned to Mercer, "What do you think, Sergeant?"
Mercer responded with a casual tone, "Relics that are trying to bring back something that doesn't exist anymore. Thats what I think."
Rourke began to provide his view on Zaire as a whole, "Perhaps you are right. The times are changing. But being the last of their kind only means that they'll fight with everything they've got. This is the last frontier of the world, that has yet to been claimed by the East nor West. They'll fight to leave it that way."
Mercer nodded before turning away to the nearby jeep, "Then we're in for a hell of a fight."
David went towards the jeep that the squad was assigned to, which was scheduled to depart last to ensure the rest of the convoy paved the way first towards Angola-Zaire border region. He set his duffel bag onto the back and hopped into the jeep, with his M4A1 out.
The AFRICOM Base was hectic with activity as they prepared for the assault.