The colonel looked at the soldiers, then shrugged. “I suppose so. You’ll have to give us a minute if you want them now.”
Daniel stood. “You can call me ‘Monarch’,” he said. “SAS regiment, captain. I’m the field commander.”
Two of the other Black Sword commandos sniggered.
Jacko stood. “My nickname’s Jacko, can I use that?” he asked.
Hawk shook his head, “If it’s a nickname from your real name, no.”
“Okay, can I use ‘Moonraker’?”
“Why that?” asked ‘Monarch’.
“Old nickname for people from Somerset.”
“That’ll do,” Hawk said.
“I’ll go with ‘Rock’,” said Greg Randall. “Seeing as I’m from Gibraltar.”
“I’ll take ‘Granite’ then,” said Wee ‘Eck, “Since I’m from the granite city of Aberdeen.”
“Ah, I’m the tallest bugger in the group,” said Big ‘Eck, “I’ll take ‘Giant’.”
“I’m a helo pilot,” said Mick Johnson, “Can I take ‘Whirl’?”
“Fine,” replied Hawk.
“I’ll take ‘Downdraft’,” said Ken.
One of the Marines waved to him. “Hi! I’m Updraft,” he called out cheerfully.
“I’ll take ‘Longshot’, if that’s okay,” said Liam, “Being a sniper.”
“Och, well, I’ll be ‘Sureshot’ then,” said Cameron.
One by one, the rest of them picked names. David Cottrell took ‘Centurion’, Hywel took ‘Dragon’, ‘Steve’ McQueen went with Trojan. Brian Cooper chose ‘Frog’, Harry Harrison picked ‘Corsair’. Griff chose ‘Chimera’ whilst Peter King selected ‘White Horse’. Carwyn Davies took ‘Red Devil’, Connor O’Donnell chose ‘Tiger’. Mo Khan decided upon ‘Raja’. Ado picked ‘Short Wave’. After a brief argument, Kulbir chose Kukri, leaving Thaman to pick Trailblazer. Martin opted for ‘Werewolf’, whilst David Bennett chose ‘Big Ben’, which Hawk concluded was sufficiently different to be allowed. Martin’s dog stayed as ‘Fritz’.
Hawk went back to briefing the assault plan.
“Our snipers and our mortar and anti-armour teams will be deployed first, via helicopter to a point five miles from the target, they will advance by foot to this ridge overlooking the camp.” As Hawk spoke, he cued up a satellite photo on the wall-mounted LCD screen.
The image showed a fenced compound, watchtowers were at each corner, guard posts at the gates at either end of the compound. Most of the terrain around the camp was flat, barren ground with little in the way of vegetation. A ridged hill was off to one side of the camp, providing the ideal position to overlook the camp.
“The sniper teams consist of Lowlight,” a blonde-haired guy wearing a green beret waved to the British troops, “Ambush,” A brown-haired soldier with a long beard and a thick moustache waved, “Hollow-point,” A muscular looking guy in Marine Corps camouflage, “and Cross Hair.” The last one of the four was a Ranger, with short brown hair and a round face.
Colonel Zero stood, “As my team members indicated, we've got a sniper pair. You want to add them to the mix?”
Hawk nodded, “Good idea. The mortar team consists of Short-Fuse and Downtown.”
The two men waved to the British, both were Rangers. Short-Fuse was a lean, wiry blonde-haired guy, while Downtown was a more broad-shouldered brown haired guy.
“The anti-armour team is Bazooka and Zap.”
Another pair of Rangers, the anti-armour team was a study in contrasts; Zap was a shorter, Hispanic soldier with close-cropped black hair and a lean physique. Bazooka was a dark-haired white guy, with a muscular build. His shirt was hanging open to reveal a red sports shirt of some kind with a green ‘14’ on the front.
“The mortar team will target the guard posts on the main entrance and the southern watchtowers. The anti-armour team, using Javelin anti-tank missiles with destroy the northern watchtowers and the northern gates. Both teams will provide indirect fire-support to the main assault element if needed. The snipers will provide over-watch as needed.”
Hawk cued up a new picture, taken from a UAV.
“The camp buildings have been provisionally identified as barracks blocks here,” he indicated several structures group together in the southwest corner. “The ops room, mess hall and armoury,” the ops room and mess hall were on the southeast side of the camp, facing the barracks across an open area of ground in front of the gate. The armoury was nearer the middle of the camp. “These two blocks appear to be the showers and latrines,” Hawk indicated two more buildings next to the barracks and the armour in the centre of the camp. “Finally, there's an assault course, a firing range and this space is the parade ground.” These occupied the northern end of the camp.
“The open end of the camp at the south is guarded by six machinegun nests, mounting either DShK or RPD machineguns. The threat will be dealt with by the next strike element, two Humvees, who will insert ten miles from the camp. The Humvees will crash the camp gates after the guard posts are destroyed. They will then engage the gun nests with their Ma Deuce guns.” ‘Ma Deuce’ was a term for the Browning M2 .50 calibre heavy machinegun.
“The strike element will comprise Lt. Falcon, Rock'n'Roll, Roadblock, Hit&Run, Breaker, Snake Eyes, Wet Suit and Wet Down. Rock'n'Roll and Roadblock will be manning the guns on the Humvees, with Clutch and Crankcase driving.”
Monarch watched as one by one, the strike element stood up and waved to the British team. Falcon was a Green Beret who looked like he should be on a recruitment poster he was so clean-cut and good-looking. Rock'n'Roll was a bearded, blonde-haired muscular Ranger. Monarch thought he looked like he should've been surfing in California, he seemed so laid-back. Like Bazooka, his shirt hung open, revealing a faded Steppenwolf T-shirt. Roadblock was a Black guy who had his hair shaved off and looked like he ought to be playing in the front row of a Rugby team or for an American football team. He had a green beret tucked in his epaulette on his shoulder. Breaker was a Ranger with scruffy stubble rather than a proper beard. He was shorter and leaner than the two gunners. Snake Eyes, Monarch saw, was exactly as Lisa had described him after the Trucial Abysmia mission, dressed in black fatigues, a black balaclava and tinted goggles. Wet Suit was a fair-haired lean guy in a US Navy uniform, obviously a SEAL. Wet Down was a black-haired guy who was slightly taller than Wet Suit and of a more average build. Like Wet Suit, he wore Navy camos, clearly another SEAL. Clutch was a Ranger, with a beard and slicked-back black hair. Crankcase was slightly taller than him, thinner and with reddish-brown hair and also wore a Ranger tab on his shirt. Hit&Run wore desert camos with brown camouflage face-paint not just across his face, but his arms too.
“Once the machineguns are neutralised,” Hawk went on, “The main assault force will be inserted by three MH-60s. The assault force will be led by Sgt. Stalker and comprise Recoil, Spearhead, Footloose, Grunt, Gung-Ho, Leatherneck, Dial-Tone, Depth-Charge and Night Fox.”
Once again, the team stood to introduce themselves. Stalker was a Black Green Beret, who looked as lean as a jungle-cat, with close-cropped hair. Recoil was a Ranger with a short Mohawk cut in his blonde hair, wearing sunglasses and a marathon runner's build. Spearhead was a taller Ranger with short brown hair. Footloose was a more muscular Ranger with brown hair and a moustache. Grunt, on the other hand, was so average looking in height, build and looks and with medium length brown hair as to appear completely forgettable. He was also a Ranger. Gung-Ho was a US Marine, his head shaved and his shirt hanging open to reveal a large tattoo of the US Marines emblem across his chest. Leatherneck was also a Marine, but he had his shirt done up and wore a Marines cap on his buzz-cut black hair. Dial-Tone was a Ranger with short dark hair and a thin moustache. Depth-Charge and Night Fox were both wearing Navy uniforms. Night Fox had ginger close-cropped hair and a scar across his cheek. Depth-Charge was a taller, leaner dark-haired guy. Monarch deduced from the uniforms they were SEALs.
“Three helicopters for ten guys?” asked Zero. “And where do my team fit in?”
“The Joes will fly in the lead MH-60, flown by Wild Bill and Lift-Ticket. The other two helos will carry elements of your team, Colonel. With your consent, I want an eight-man element to fly in your Merlin helicopter to land at the north end of the camp to secure it and prevent any Cobras escaping in that direction. The other members of the unit would be flown aboard the Black Hawks to assault the south end of the camp,” Hawk explained.
The colonel mulled it over. “Fine, We put the Paras, Giant, Red Devil, Tiger, Raja and Kukri on the security team with Trailblazer and Werewolf. I’d suggest Big Ben be in that element as well, as he’s our sass machine-gunner.” ‘Sass’ was how a lot of British troops would pronounce SAS. “The Marines, SBS and other sass guys can be in the assault element.”
Monarch didn’t react, but he approved of the idea.
“Who’s flying them?” Zero went on.
“The second Black Hawk will be flown by our Marine pilots, Major Altitude and Updraft.”
The two Marines stood. Major Altitude had buzz-cut brown hair and a smart demeanour. Updraft, who Monarch noted wore captain’s rank insignia, had slightly longer, scruffier brown hair and looked more laid-back.
“The third will be flown by Cloudburst and Windmill.”
As the Marine pilots sat, the other two stood, both wore Navy uniforms. Windmill had black hair cut in a flattop and was leaner than Cloudburst who looked more muscular and had brown hair that was closely cropped. Next to them were the two Army pilots, who Monarch guessed were Wild Bill and Lift-Ticket. Wild Bill had a pearl-handled revolver strapped on his hip and wore what looked either a Cavalry hat or a Stetson. He wore mirrored aviator sunglasses. Lift-Ticket was younger looking with a baseball cap on, an automatic pistol in a chest holster and a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth.
“We’ll leave the briefing there,” Hawk said. “Everyone can get acquainted before we fly out to the Flagg.”
USS Lawrence Flagg, Nimitz class carrier
Forty miles off the Somali coast
Late the next day
Hawk led Monarch, Lt. Falcon and Colonel Zero in to the stateroom belonging to the Admiral commanding the US Navy carrier. Inside were the Admiral, sitting behind his desk and two pilots, lounging in seats in front of it.
“Colonel, Captain, Lieutenant, this is Admiral Everett Colby, commander of the Flagg’s task force. Admiral, Colonel Zero of the British Army, Captain Monarch, field commander of the Black Sword unit and my field commander, Lieutenant Falcon,” Hawk said.
“Good evening gentlemen,” Colby replied. “May I present Commander Brad Armbruster, commander of VFA-141 and Major Pete Sanderson, US Marines. They’ll be providing your group with close-air cover.”
Monarch took a look at the Admiral before looking at the pilots. Vice-Admiral Colby was a tall, lean man with short black hair and wore a brown leather pilot’s jacket over his lightweight tropical uniform, despite the African heat. Monarch had borrowed Ado’s laptop and looked up the Admiral online. Former F-14 Tomcat pilot from the 1980s, flew as an instructor and adversary pilot at the Top Gun school in the 1990s before returning to a frontline role commanding an F/A-18 squadron in late 1990s before screening for flag rank. He knew his stuff as a Naval Aviator, Monarch decided.
Commander Armbruster wore a Navy flight-suit festooned with patches. He had medium length brown hair, neatly combed, and a rumpled look about him that suggested he spent as much time as possible in the cockpit. Major Sanderson, however, looked like a typical Marine; muscular, close-cropped blonde hair and not an ounce of fat on him. His flight-suit had a few patches as well.
“Sanderson will be flying the lead of a pair of AH-1 Zulus to provide you with helicopter close air support. A second pair of Zulus will be on stand by if either of those breaks. Armbruster will be flying lead of a pair of Hornets, ready with Mavericks and JDAMs for heavy air cover.”
“Someone think we’re really going to run into that much trouble?” Monarch asked. “That we need Hornets with precision munitions and anti-armour missiles.”
The Admiral shrugged. “We’re the US military, son, we like fire-power on our side.”
Monarch snorted in amusement, but said nothing.
“I also received word that your Humvees are standing by in Somalia with a Marine group who are guarding a pair of fuel trucks in case the helos need refuelling. That gear was flown in from Lemonnier by a pair of C130s an hour ago. The Black Hawks and that Brit helo you flew in on have been refuelled. You’re all set.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Hawk replied. “We go wheels up on the fire support team’s insertion in one hour. The strike team deploys two hours later, then the assault force deploys an hour after that.”
Colby nodded, “Very well, dismissed.”
The officers left the room together. “Hey, colonels,” Armbruster called. “Any of your men know how to JTAC an air-strike?”
Hawk stopped and nodded. “One of my mortar team is cross-trained as a JTAC for his secondary role in the unit.”