[center][b]1st Battalion, 227th Aviation Regiment Headquaters[/b][/center]

Lieutenant colonel Jay M. Johnson sat at a marked and scarred mahogany desk; somewhat a relic of France's occupation some thirty years previous. The room in which he had situated his office, the manager's quarters in a run down Qui Nhơn hotel of French design, was suffering from decades of neglect. The wall paper was peeling, the ceiling fan hadn't worked since Hitler pushed through the Ardennes, and the stifling heat from outside was quickly turning the room into a microwave oven. 

He flicked through the pages of after action reports, high lighting casualties and musing over ammunition usage, and stopping briefly to tap the ash from his cigarette. God, how he hated this country.

Charlie wouldn't fight fairly! Always hit and run! Cowards, the lot of them. Lieutenant colonel Jay M. Johnson was top of his game though, when it came to adapting to these kinds of tactics; indeed, the 227th Aviation Regiment had been the 1st Cavalry Division's highest achieving formation since '66. Casualties were quite low, and enemy losses were sky rocketing. They'd lost 24 birds in 2 years of brutal fighting, not a bad number by any count. Today, they'd lost 3.

It seemed Charlie had counter-adapted to  Johnson's strategy of using his helicopter formations like a lance, spearing deep into enemy territory in one long line, to minimise the amount of the ground they would have to cover horizontally. Somehow Division had failed to register a large NVA build up in Lima Sector - and early reports suggested an entire brigade had shifted there overnight. They'd maintained radio silence, and allowed Operation Zeus to go ahead unimpeded, only to ambush A Company on its return. Three Hueys had gone down, and the rest was forced to withdraw.

Johnson's first instinct was to gather everything he had, inform Divisional of his decision to cut Charlie to shreds, and head out there himself to oversee retribution. However, most of his elements were already off on other missions, and recalling them would create one fuck-ton of a headache. 

There was a knock at the door, and Johnson lent back in his leather chair as Major Chris Thomspon entered carrying more papers. "We've intercepted radio chatter from Charlie, Sir," he said. He paused as the heat of room washed over him. "Christ Jay, how do you bare this heat?" 

Jay and Chris had served with each other for ten years, and not always in the cavalry. When they were in public spaces, they maintained strict military procedures and etiquette. In the safety of Jay's office, they were just two guys, hanging out at some FUBAR summer retreat. 

"Keeps the pricks away," Jay said with a smile. "So what have we got?" 

The Major started flicking through the papers, "seems something has Charlie riled up in Lima. They're persuing someone, but they wont say who. No use of the word "Imperialists" so that's got to be good, right?" 

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Any ARVN in the area?" 

"No, Jay, Arvin is still chilling at Outpost #289 to the south east of Lima. They're too shit scared to go beyond the sandbags," the Major replied, shaking his head. 

"Well, let's get them in the war," Jay replied, standing up from his chair to gaze through the crooked blind of the room's only window. "We've got boys out there, Thomas, I'm sure of it. What are the odds? Three birds down, and yet some survivors - a downed Huey is normally a full KIA affair." 

"How can you be sure, Jay?" Thomas asked, confused. "They could be after anyone, from unruly locals to a rogue VC unit." 

"I can't, and I can't send out my men on a goose chase. Arvin though, our good friend Arvin - I can send him where I want. Outpost #289 is still ours to delegate, right?" 

"Yes Jay, but I do-"

"Good. What do they have?" Jay asked, opening the blind slightly. 

"Two companies, belonging to the 22nd Infantry Division. They've got a detachment of M113's with them, but I doubt they'd be much use. You'd be sending them on a suicide run, Jay, into the jungle with no aerial assets and no reconnaissance," Thomas said, getting irritated at his friend. Of the two, Thomas was always the humanitarian. 

"They'll be our reconnaissance until I can free up resources. Have Hill 91 prepare its AH's for intervention though, I don't think they're anywhere else at present. Tell them to cancel all planned ops. Tell them if they hear Americans on the line, asking for help in Lima, they're to react with full operational freedom - but I'd like to know ASAP if they do. In the meantime, have Arvin make a 'recon in force' into Lima, but have him stop if he meets stiff resistance. Charlie is probably long gone by now anyway, but I want to make sure." 

"You're an ass hole Jay," Thomas said, shaking his head. "Of course Charlie is still there. Lima is perfectly defensible, and he wont move until we force him to. Those boys at Outpost #289 are going to be rotting on the jungle floor before tomorrow comes."

"This is war Thomas, and in war, people die. We both know this. Make it happen."