Sergeants & Lieutenants

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He jumped from the Lynx Mk9A helicopter exhausted, dirty and splattered with blood. As the lead on the operation he was the last to leave the helicopter, ensuring that his injured men were taken care of first. He was not looking forward to the debrief with Colonel Hutchense. 'Damn the man,' he thought, 'he is not going to go easy on us. Bastard!'

Colonel Herbert Hutchense was, indeed, not going to go easy on him. A hard-liner, he did not appreciate the man's habit of making mates of his insubordinates; he felt it blurred the lines between the soldier and the commander. He needed his operational commanders to make split second decisions, life and death decisions. He couldn't count on a man who was weak. Soldiers were expendable; that is how officers needed to see them.

The man entered the reception room of the colonel's office. He had been in here many times previous, but this was the first time he had ever seen his secretary. He halted in the doorway, stunned by what he saw.

Second Lieutenant Kim Chesterfield was short, a little chubby and all about the army. In her previous life she had been a success in Public Relations but the call to serve her country, along with being disappointed by the vapidity of her chosen career, had led her to a new start. She loved knowing that she was making a difference, providing support to the people who wanted to serve their fellow country-men.

The man cleared his throat to get the Lieutenant's attention. "Colour Sergeant John Porter, here to see Colonel Hutchense," he paused to read her name plate, "Lieutenant Chesterfield?"

Kim looked up from her computer to the bluest eyes she had ever seen. 'Jesus!' she thought, 'wow, just wow!" The man was tall, 'he must be over 6 feet', with dark brown, almost black, hair, a nose that was a little too long, and a body to drool over.

"Good morning Sergeant. Please take a seat, Colonel Hutchense will see you in a moment." Kim rose from her chair and made her way to the Colonel's office. John tilted his head, as he admired her form in pressed blue blouse and knee length pencil skirt. 'Everything in the right place,' he thought. He liked his women to be on the short size, it stoked his ego to feel like a strong man, able to protect his woman (although, he doubted this little one would need it) and a some extra padding just meant a little more to hold onto on cold nights.

When she returned to the vestibule she stood aside and held the door as she ushered him inside, "The colonel will see you know." As he stepped past her she offered up a grimace and a "good luck" raise of the eyebrows. John acknowledged it with a quick grin.

He had to admit that the raid on the ISIL safe house had not gone as expected. The reconnaissance they had received indicated that the house was lightly guarded; which it had been. However, they had not been informed that just 3 doors down was a coffee house, where many of the insurgents gathered.

John wasn't sure if the informant was working for ISIL or what, but he was determined to find the man and make sure that he never told another lie, ever again. But first he had to deal with this maniac.

He entered the office with a straight back and a look of determination on his face; there was no way he was going to take the fall for the shit-show that had happened. "Colonel," he stood ramrod straight in front of the colonel's desk and saluted.

"At ease, soldier," intoned the colonel. "So, Porter, what the fuck happened?"

"It is all in the report, Colonel. We dropped out of the Lynx and made our way to the first floor. We got in alright, no casualties; the place was only lightly guarded. But it wasn't long until the place was surrounded. We were not there long enough to find the intel on their other locations. I ordered our men out. We took heavy fire, Johnston and Denwali were both hit, but we managed to make it back to the roof."

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