A Dragon's Tale-Genesys

To The Rescue

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I couldn't believe that Holland and his team had located Wyatt so quickly.

"Where is he sir?",I quickly asked.

"North Western Africa",Holland replied,"we don't have much Intel,but the signal we traced came from somewhere south of Las Noels."

I sighed.

"That place is a out and out war zone",Hudson said.

"I know",Holland said,"the local millita has been waging genocide in the area for months,they'll be everywhere."

"So how do we get to Frank?",I asked.

"I'm sending you to meet a man named Jonas Dakarai",Holland told us,"he's a high ranking General in the local military and one we have helped before,he belives you can help him win back his country and his men can find Wyatt."

"Good enough for me",I said.

"Marines,this is Class 2",Holland told us,"it means your going in as deniable,the higher ups don't know about this op."

"Understood",I replied,"give us the details."

Holland rolled out a map.

"You'll be heading south of Las Noels to meet a convoy headed by Dakarai",Holland said,"the local millita has been making an extremely agressive approach to the city,if they are allowed to make that city,thosands wil die."

"Understood sir",I replied.

"Very well",Holland said,"grab your gear,you got thirty minutes before Blackflag leaves."

I nodded as we turned and went to our rooms. I striped off my combat shirt and exchanged it for a sleveless Under Armor shirt and T-shirt before placing my plate carrier,which was now clean,over it. I grabbed my half finger gloves and placed my B32 into it's holster before grabbing my 48 from the table. As I was walking out the door,I took a look at my sword.

"May as well just leave it behind",I thought,"swords can't fight guns."

I quickly snatched my sunglasses and tan Shemagh from the table before running out to the old Seahawk that was waiting. The old,Vietnam era helo was olive drab green with an all glass front like that on a B fifty two strata fortress. On each side was a mounted fifty caliber Browning machine gun and twin rocket pods,holding sixteen rockets each. Seahawks were about the size of a Russian MI12 hind,but were a lot more durable. Hudson and the others were already there and Hudson was in the pilot's seat while Frank sat shot gun. Emelia was tightly coiled in the back of the helicopter and Issac was sitting in one of the seats behind the cockpit. I cilimbed in and gave a motion to Hudson to spin up the engines.

"Let's get this bird in the air",I said sitting in the seat beside the wall.

Hudson flipped a few switches and a loud hissing noise began to fill the air as the Seahawk's engines began to spin up. Sand and dust began to fly all around as the rotors began to whirl and soon we were in the air on the way to Africa. At first,the heli was quiet expect for the sound of the whirling rotor blades. Then,Hudson turned on Magnum 1,a crazy hard,Black Metal band that put even the hardest Metal Chord bands to shame. The drums beat hard and the electric guitars were crazy loud. The song was their hit,Wastelands. I had listened to it growing up and hearing now brought back some great memories with my Dad and Issac and Jace.

"Oh fuck yeah!",Frank called from the front of heli,"that's just what I needed!"

Everyone was moving to the hard Black Metal,even Emelia,who seemed surprised by how loud it was at first,but even she was soon slapping the floor of the helo with her tail and everyone was having a good time. The two hour fly went very quickly and before I knew it we were touching down at what appeared to be the local military's camp. Men carrying FNH FALs and dressed in red cammoflauge and web gear were running around,loading up Baffle assault trucks and lightweight mobile cannon platforms.