Night of the Crane | By @WendyyWolfe

13. S. M. O. F.

James climbed back in the panel truck and took a seat across from Sargeant Reese. Dylan reappeared being escorted by Dingo and the other soldier, Tilley.

"We found him Reese. He was stuffing his pie hole full of food," Tilley laughed.

"I thought y'all were here to help us asshole," Dylan sputtered, jerking away from the two. They followed him in and sat down on the bench next to James.

"We are," Sargeant Reese alluded, "but you are going to help us too. Asshole. Now get over here and sit the hell down and shut the hell up while I go over the info I have."

James actually cracked a grin. He didn't dislike Dylan but the dude was a serious pain in the ass.

Macallan sat next to Reese and was all ears, hoping finally, they might be getting some answers.

Reese cleared his throat again before opening a huge envelope. "Before I start, I want to apologize to your friends James. I'm not too good with the female persuasion, I guess you could say," he shrugged, with a look at Macallan. "What are you're names son?"

Macallan smiled. "I'm Macallan, but you can call me Mac. Dylan," he pointed. "The girls are Lacy and Krisslyn, and they're cousins, sir."

Reese gave Macallan a long thoughtful look as he nodded. "Which one was it who fainted?"

"That was Krisslyn," Macallan replied. "She isn't quite as tough as Lacy."

"I see. Well, I'll remember that, and see to it they have whatever they need as soon as we get back to the base camp."

James grit his teeth. Here it came. The part about how much they could help. He hated that he felt that way but for the sake of the others he was going to keep his opinions to himself. Until he had all the Intel. Then, he'd make a decision with his little group and see where the ball landed.

Reese went on, oblivious to James' inner discourse. He stood up and paced down the narrow aisle between them all, cleared his throat and put on a military issue pair of glasses.

"Well boys, here's what we know. We have no goddam idea who or what they are or, what they are doing. Although I myself would venture to say it's about resources. All I have is a timeline of incidents and I'm pretty sure you men already have a good idea of that due to your own experiences. We can't make contact because these vessels won't respond so they aren't here for a kum-ba-ya. At 22:00 pm every goddam missile silo in America went offline. That was their little arrival greeting. Red phones all over the interior started ringing at the same time. We weren't about to announce it to the world of course because every terror state out there would have been sending missiles up our asses, but for NATO. They informed the President, missile sites across the world were also offline. Kaput. All dead zones."

James literally bit his lip to keep from throwing Reese to the ground and leaving. Dylan watched him with a hooded expression.

"What the fuck you looking at shit head?" he snarled softly.

Reese watched the interchange between them with amusement, noticing this Dylan
reminded him a whole lot of James when he was younger. He glanced over to Mac who was completely expressionless. Reese made a mental note of the strain between them.

Dylan rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Alright men. We got a huge shit storm of a problem now. We got no practical way to defend this country. None. That's why every General from every branch in every fucking country has joined in force. One vision men. One mission. To stop the annihilation of all we hold dear. If we don't we may as well bend over and kiss our asses goodbye. Now. I need your support men. Those cluster fucks have all the time in the world, but. we. don't."

James and Macallan stood up but James spoke first.

"Just what is it you're asking us to do, Sargeant?"

Sargeant Reese held his hands out to his side pleadingly. "Just fight Solo. Join the operation. You, and your friends. Your town is depending on it."

Macallans head dropped. He ran both of his hands through his hair and grabbed the back of his neck. He struggled to find words but knew he had to make sense of all this.

Sargeant Reese was suddenly there, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What is it, Mac?"

Macallan shook his head. "I don't know Sargeant. I've spent my entire adult life working in a brewery and starting bar fights on Friday nights. I was sitting in a jail cell for Gods sake! I saw my, Lacy's dad, die right in front of my eyes and less than an hour later he was walking the around the highschool gym!"

Reese took Macallan by the shoulders.

"Listen here. Fighting a war, it isn't that much different Mac. Just bigger toys, as they say. But this, Macallan, this is not just tiddlywinks anymore. This is survival. You've seen for yourself what we are up against. A resistance is forming, right now, as we speak and we don't have a choice Mac. We either face it head on with everything we have or surrender to those flying fucks and you don't want to do that Mac. Every man woman and child here with us wants the same thing you do. Do you understand that?"

Macallan nodded.

"Of course he understands that Reese." James blurted out. "But we, we have to do this on our terms. We can't just go out there willy nilly with our six shooters drawn. That would be suicide and you know it!"

"That's good Solo," Reese said pulling his glasses off and putting them in his top pocket as he eyeballed James with those intense blue eyes. "Because that's not the plan at all."

"Really? Then what is the plan?"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask Solo," Reese said with a broad grin. "It may not look like much right now but the Special Militant Operations Force is forming. What you saw at the gas station, that was small beans compared to what our boys are doing. I'm the commander for this region. The rest of our unit is close by and that's where we're headed. For now it's a still a black site so Dingo and Tilley here will taking all those with us to an air raid bunker until we get further Intel, if we do."