Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.”

- Napoleon Bonaparte

Part 1: Night Walk

In the late hours of the night the city of Peshawar was lit by streetlights, billboards, and burning flames. Before Pakistan had the chance to announce their “partnership” with the United States, widespread protests broke out around the country to shed the Islamic nation from any pro-western propaganda.

In between these protests did criminals gain their chance to wreak havoc upon the cities and towns. Many stores were looted, and territories were quietly established by local triggermen, terrorists, and gangs. Even by the time where JSOC sent in special operation units to extract high valued individuals, parts of Peshawar had been turned into “dead zones” as labeled by USSOCOM.

It was in one of the may dead zones did the three vehicles enter. Randall and his team were cooperating with Sergeant Malkovich’s fireteam as they prepared to oversee the mission to kill or capture target Brutus.

“C’mon! We need to be in position in two hours.” Captain Thompson said in a hushed voice as the ten-man squadron moved to several high-rise apartments that were still intact.

Though under the cover of darkness, the bright light of the moon illuminated the streets. Not even a well prepared, well-armored soldier would even dare to travers in such an environment, less he wanted to be shot. To even speak in the ghost-town like district they were in was a significant risk to breaching operational security.

Being second in the line moving down the sidewalk just behind Private First Class Simon, Sergeant Randall kept quiet as he held his M-5 in the low-ready. His eyes repeatedly flashed to the alleyways they passed by; with each one empty and seemingly abandoned, a fear-driven feeling swept over his body as they closed in on the fourteen-story apartment building less than four blocks away.

Stepping over pieces of rubble, his boots crunched against the dirtied streets. In a similar manner, the other ten walked along the sidewalks attempting to make a minimal amount of noise. Only the rare misstep from a piece of debris that was hidden in the darkness made the men react in a hostile manner.

Their fields of view were limited by the googles they had on; their white phosphorous vision made it impossible to discern the colors of the night.

Approaching the entrance of the apartment building the men fanned out, but still remained close together.

“Clear the main foyer.” Captain Thompson ordered as he fell behind Corporal Ramirez in the formation.

With PFC Green to his right and PFC Simon on his left, Randall spearheaded the entry and led the three through the main entrance of the apartment building. Their goggles highlighted the dark room, but with their handy infrared flashlights mounted to their rifles, no corner was unchecked as the ten poured inside.

“Emergency staircase left of the elevators.” Corporal Richard announced this as the men began to close on the left side of the building.

“Check the alarm, then we’re going up.” Thompson responded as he silently gestured for Patterson and Malkovich to cover him.

Removing the panel on the alarm just above the door, Richard checked on the wires while the rest waited anxiously.

“It’s clear. Someone already cut it.” Richard said in a sharp voice as he readied himself to open the door.

“That’s worrisome.” Malkovich said coolly.

“Shut it. Stack and ascend.” Patterson quipped while falling behind Randall.

With Private Jackson at the front, the ten-man squadron began to slowly ascend the fourteen-story building only stopping on each floor to clear each apartment.

Each room cleared, each floor reached, the stress and constant pressure made Randall both weak an exhausted by the time they reached the designated spot they were assigned. Weapons raised and sights dialed in, Randall led the final push into the room that had been selected by reconnaissance for their current mission.

Such a room Randall and the others found themselves in was a luxury apartment that was formerly under construction. Tools were strung about the site, and the room was barren due to the project being abandoned during the initial hours of the mass protests that spread the city of Peshawar.

With the search complete, Randall stood alone in the center of the room. He gazed out the large window frames that were supposed to hold glass panes to protect the residents from the elements. Around him the Rangers got to work setting up observation devices: binoculars, cameras, and recon drone beacons.

“You should set up then get some sleep Randall. Team two is currently on watch right now.”

Turning around to the person that had addressed him, Randall saw Sergeant Malkovich walking up to him while providing a small wave.

“Uh-yeah, sounds good.” Randall said as he turned off his goggles and gently took them off.

A subdued thunder came from the other side of the city and a bright orange-yellow fire ball grew and faded.

“Someone should tell the air force to fuck off during ops.” Malkovich said frustrated while rubbing his stubble.

“Well, we still need them.” Randall countered gaining a chuckle from his fellow Sergeant.

“You may be right, but-you know what I mean.”

As Malkovich walked off, Randall found a small wall near the windows. He hid around the corner and secured his assault pack. His mind drifted of once more for the night as his vision blacked out hiding the city lights, and bright fireballs.

Part 2: Unforeseen Variables

“That’s to the southwest, correct?”

The early morning sun shined upon the streets of Peshawar. Smoke in the distance billowed from several buildings that were strike from a joint taskforce comprised of Navy and air force fixed winged aircraft.

Quietly gazing out of the fourteenth floor, was Sergeant Randall. He dialed his binoculars to get a better view of the street below. Beside him was Lieutenant Patterson and Captain Thompson. Together the three were watching the southwestern territory for hostile force.

“Yeah, that’s five of them? Approaching the building.” Lieutenant Patterson quickly responded as he began to move away from the window.

The toll from being half-awake for the last day had finally caught Randall and the other nine Rangers. Most of them had shone minor symptoms of fatigue, but two of the Rangers, Private Jackson and PFC Zane had been afflicted by dehydration and were currently being treated by the medic Corporal Ramirez and the other members pulling security.

Due to the lack of sufficient shielding from the sun and the lack of air conditioning, the temperature inside of the room began to rise almost making it unbearable to work in. A cold sweat ran down the side of Randall’s face as he kept watch on the five unknown individuals the three had just spotted.

“Hey, someone remind me why we are watching these five? I swear we’ve seen other insurgents in the area.” Randall asked confused. “I mean, everyone we’ve seen has been carrying firearms of some sort.”

“From what I understand is that these five were responsible for supplying the weapons for that hostile takeover of that one hotel in Los Angeles.” Captain Thompson began, “If our intel is right, these five were the ones that have been tracked by both the DIA and MI6.”

Randall chuckled at what Thompson said, “So terrorists? Well, I guess that dealing with them is better than getting involved with Mexico and Cuba right now. Wouldn’t want to get caught up in that mess.”

Before Thompson could chuckle along with Sergeant Randall, Patterson walked back over the observation spot and alerted the two, “Captain, Green and Simon have just spotted the birds carrying the strike team. Delta and the Pakistani forces are on their way.”

Nodding to the statement, Thompson stood up and began to direct the other men still in the room, “Richard, Malkovich, alert the others that the team is about to land. Get them in position to take care of fire support, and make sure our CCT is ready just in case.”

Springing into action the Corporal and Sergeant rose from their observation position and made their way into the hallway to alert the others.

As Randall waited silently near the window frame, several gunshots erupted in the far distance and slowly faded out; Unintentionally tensing at the sudden firefight on the other side of the city, Randall was close to raising his rifle towards the noise as an instinctual defense, but he luckily resisted the urge as the thunderous “claps” of the three helicopters carrying the strike team closed in on the target building.

As the moments passed two MH-6L insertion aircrafts and a single UH-60S medium lift stealth helicopter flew past the apartment building and swiftly maneuvered above the streets. The two MH-6Ls landed on the street just outside of the target building, and the UH-60S hovered nearby as Pakistani SSG troopers pooled out and secured an inner cordon.

As the other Rangers on observation moved to observe the strike, the sixteen Delta operatives, including Chief Warrant Officer Eric Briner, moved to the second floor and prepared a C2 charge on the outer balcony doorway.

The Rangers held their breaths as five seconds later a plume of dust kicked up from the building and was soon thereafter followed by a roar that emanated from the explosive. As the US operatives moved inside the building a flurry of gunshots, to that of which even the Pakistanis were unsure of who they belonged to, dominated all undivided attention.

Picking up his binoculars and looking down at the streets below, Randall spotted the five men they had identified earlier and noticed that though they were moving swiftly, they simply ignored the strike team.

“Captain, the five we spotted blew completely past the target building.”

“Direction?” Thompson said while mimicking Patterson’s actions.

“South. Heading towards us to be specific.”

“Are we compromised?” Randal questioned, “Shouldn’t we let the Pakistanis know?”

“Yeah.” Thompson said as he activated his radio, “Overlord, Kilo-Six. We have eyes on five unknowns heading to our position, relay to Pakistani forces, over.”

A crackle came from the radio as the commanding officer overseeing the operation responded, “Say again, did you say five unknowns? Over.”

“I say again, five unknowns have passed the target building wielding small arms. Relay to Pakistani force, over.”

“Acknowledged. Stick to ROE, out.”

With Captain Thompson spoke with Lieutenant Patterson and the CCT, Staff Sergeant William Baker about coordinating a response to the five unknowns, Randall shifted to the eastern corner of the room and joined the other Rangers who were keeping watch of the raid.

Gunfire was still being exchanged as the operators on the ground swept the entire building. The intensity of the firefight and rate of rounds being fired made the SSG occasionally look towards the building rather than the specific streets and alleyways they were to watch.

“Shit man. How many people are crammed in that fucking building?” Simon asked as he adjusted his glasses.

“If it’s the big bad honcho then perhaps up to fifteen?” Ramirez said while adjusting his medpack.

As the Rangers spoke amongst themselves, Captain Thompson broke off from Staff Sergeant Baker and walked over to the small group.

“Listen up! OPSEC is compromised! We’re moving to ground floor and are going to regroup with the SSG.”

“Yes sir!” A mire of short-winded shouts confirmed the order, and the men began to pack their gear.

With everyone swiftly moving to secure their gear, Randall took one last glance through his binoculars and looked at the barren streets below. Even before the raid, civilian and other personnel had abandoned several districts throughout the city, but even with the fleet of cars that littered many of the roadways, in any typical engagement it was almost impossible to evacuate a whole civilian presence.

Before his mind could linger on the thought, a bright reflection temporarily blinded Randall. With his teammates noticing his unusual state and with him recovering from the light, Randall once more looked out towards the sky and in the distance, he saw several black dots slowly moving in the distance.

“Captain!” Randall shouted gaining the man’s attention, “Are any of our birds in the air right now?”

“Staff Sergeant?” Thompson diverted the question to the Combat Controller.

“Unless it’s the Night Stalkers, the only scheduled chopper runs are in Lahore, Quetta and Sibi.” Baker said frantically as he attempted to secure a connection to the aircraft above the city.

“Boss! It looks to be two attack choppers and three transports, Russian design!” Patterson shouted making everyone freeze.

“Fuck! Fuck! I can’t get a line to any aircraft!” Baker said while packing away his tablet.

Thompson turned pale and broke out into a cold sweat as he swiftly directed his men, “Everyone get inside the stairwell! We need to get down before those hinds are all over us!”

As the men began to pool out of the room, Thompson’s radio crackled to life and a distorted voice broke through, “Kilo-Six be advised we are seeing multiple enemy rotor-wings in you r air-”

A sharp white noise came through each of the Ranger’s headphones making them disoriented and immobile for several seconds.

With Green and Richard saying obscenities, Patterson attempted to hail friendly forces on different frequencies in a vain hope of someone.

“Shit, they just fry our radios?” Malkovich asked in place of Randall who was calming the other men.

“An EMP?” Thompson questioned.

“Nah, an EMP would knock everything offline, even our gun sights.” Sergeant Malkovich quipped as he led the way aiming down the holographic sight atop his M-5.

“Right.”

The walk down was perilous as the constant shouts and gunfire that were once distant, came closer and closer. The thought of now being behind enemy lines crossed Randall’s mind, yet he kept optimistic as the group descended the final flight of stairs towards the back entrance of the office building, they once occupied.

“Clear!” Randal shouted as he, and PFC Green, and PFC Simon took spearheaded the clearing of the main lobby.

“Keep a move on gentlemen! We spend another hour here we might get caught in a world of hurt!” Thompson said spurring the men forward.

Publicly Available Information: CCT (Combat Controllers):

The United States Air Force Combat Control Teams, or singular Combat Controller, are personnel who specialize in air-ground communications.

The mission of each Combat Controller is to support the unit said person is attached to using communications to preform; air traffic control, fire support, close air support, and command and control operations using both fixed wing and rotary wing air vehicles.