The MH6 hovered lightly over the riverbank, one of the QRF members helping Eric drag the fallen soldier inside, before the helicopter kicked up and pulled up, kicking up out of the forest. The man seemed to have a British accent, his insignia was that of the British SFSG, and they had been the QRF team of choice of the NATO detatchment in Kosovo.
"Command, this is Ranger Actual, Osprey One is KIA, repeat, Osprey One is KIA. Prep medical team on our return, we've got Osprey Two returning to base with major wounds. We've got a lot of shock, facial injury and disfigurement." The British voice said, as he looked back at Eric once more, looking over.
"Holy shit....hang on in. They got your fucking proper. Just deep, calm breaths." He said, knowing while he wasn't the medic of the team, he had to attend to this right now.
"Okay, we can't do shit in this helicopter. The blood is going to stop, I'm going to hold your chest in. You've broken a few ribs, but the armour's stopped the rest of you being broken. Take a nice moment. You're going to make it. Just fucking hang in." He added, taking a few disinfectant and antiseptic wipes from his medical pouch, a good feat given that he was half-hanging off the side of the helo, leaning in and putting it against his left eye.
"Okay, this should ease any infection. I'm going to give you a significant dose of painkillers. You are going to be tripping balls after this, but it's going to stop you from feeling the worst of your internals when the shock dies down. I need you to wriggle your right arm for me, if you can, so I can get it planted." He added, as he withdrew a syringe, gently taking Eric's arm.
"Okay. Steady." With it, the needle hit his arm, and he hoped that it would at least get him home, the helicopter turning a little as they cleared the forest, heading like thunder back towards the NATO HQ.
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At the NATO operations centre in Pristina, the helicopter swooped in quickly, Markus declared dead pretty much on site. It wasn't a pretty picture to say the least, and as they carried him on the stretcher, it wasn't a pleasant sight. But this was the reality. Man down was not a comfortable place to be, and it had been an op that had blown out of propotion, as they helped carry Eric to the medical tent, paramedics and doctors flooding, already going over his wounds, and knowing they had to work hard. There was a lot of blood, and it was messy.
The captured man it seemed, had been left in the armoured car. And Magpie was nowhere to be seen. After all, she'd delivered him to the NATO HQ, and her contact agreed that her little interdiction didn't need any more attention. If the team that had been sent had diverted to take the commander, she was no longer needed. But knew they had tackled a bigger asset, somewhat. Blue Sword had tried to bite into something big, and she had just steered it back on course, that was all. If they knew the intel, they'd dare not fuck with this particular site, but what they didn't know had bit them. For Magpie, she knew her own job to cleanup had been done back at the site, and that The Network had taken a major hit.
------------
Four Weeks Later
Blue Sword Ltd HQ,
Perth, Australia
The plane had arrived in the desert base, the C130 landing on the concrete with a screech, as the Russian looked on from the taxiway, watching. Natalie seemed already willing to wait, dressed in a standard Russian officer's dress, mixed with some western elements. Sometimes she was little revealing, yes, but at work, not as much. A tan and brown digital hexagonal camouflage, her golden blonde hair left long and allowed to blow in the wind, as she looked on at the sight before her, the plane blowing up dust and sand. Her black combat boots, her shirt fully done up, tightly containing her puppies in the bra beneath, or as Victor would see them, an area of pure awesome, with a MP412 REX kept in a holster on her belt. Her rank was displayed, and whilst this was a private company, Natalie was still a Major, and played a part in certain command functions of the contractor; but knowing her better as Black Eagle or that scary bitch who was huge, could carry a M134 and rip people in two with a fucking machete was probably what made that a little redundant, and kept her out in the field more by an unofficial pay. You couldn't replace a giant that easily, after all. Not one of her caliber.
It had been a long few weeks, and for everyone involved, time out was required. It had been bloody and merciless, too much had been lost and sometimes, relaxation was needed for everyone involved. As far as Natalie was aware, Ross and Carl were out of the meat grinder, and for them both, they'd gone through a shitstorm. Their armour needed maintenance and update, . For Natalie, that came with being told that her payout from the Russian interior ministry had arrived, and as a double whammy, Blue Sword wanted Natalie on basic training duties and admin for a few of the soldiers. After all, they were playing around with more armour, and Natalie Denisova knew her shit when it came to that category of equipment. Her former status as an Officer in the Spetsnaz and Russian VDV made her perfect to instill the specialist training, whilst Victor had been left to the leash of vetting basic recruits and scaring the ever-living shit out of them. And they had time out too, time to relax and breathe, even on this desert hellscape, dunes and sand and nothing in the distance. Time to catch up on anything, just chill, fuck a little, enjoy their own time, and be ready to go once again.
So Natalie had been sent here, and waited for Eric Whitford, the man that had been wounded in Kosovo. A notable example, given that his fireteam had taken a loss and hit a major data server in Kosovo. He had known of their activities, they were a specialist intelligence team for Blue Sword, and it had been a loss to the company.
Heading over to the Canadian, she looked him over, the Russian taking in the wound on his eye. It wasn't nice. It was horrid, actually, but the treatment had been performed in Kosovo and then Germany, before he'd been shipped out to here. Natalie was doing a little
"Specialist Whitford, I'm glad you made it. I don't think I need to introduce myself. Let's get out of this heat, come with me." Natalie said, not a great opener given it was harsh and orderly, the Major nodding as she led the way, casting a very long shadow indeed due to her stature.
"I heard about what happened to Fireteam Osprey. I'm sorry to hear it. I've drank with Markus before. He's...he was a good guy. Didnt' deserve that, and neither did you. To still fuck that man over....that takes some doing, I have to say. Don't worry, we're going to get rid of these bastards....with me and Victor in the picture, you can be sure that's something we can do well. But I know you were interested in what we had left." Natalie added, as they headed towards the main buildings, off the runway and back into the shade, through to an office, Natalie having to drop her head as they headed in, this place temporarily given up to her. Heading inside, she found her large seat, stupid given it would take her ghetto-sized booty and gigantic body by a desk that towered, before turning the chair to look over at Markus, pointing to a chair.
"I've heard you had a medical. The wounds are pretty critical to most people...believe me, I nearly died and I can say what happened to you was horrible. Entire left eye is gone, hence the patch and.....right eye seems okay, recovering with time, and a lot of pretty horrible wounds, mostly from the car crash that didn't lead to too much loss of blood or infection. In that way, you're incredibly lucky. For all intents, you should be dead, if that piece of glass went through your retina, you'd be a vegetable. But yet here you are. Makes two of us, Eric." Natalie said in her light French accent, leaning back in the chair, as neutral and analytical as she read her notes and looked at Eric, that was, till the end.
"So, I've heard you are interested in coming back. I mean, that is an option. The other is half retirement package, half desk work. You get to go home to Canada, too. There'll be enough money and work to cover you until retirement, on top of any disability and military pension you'd receive. There's plenty of admin work that the company still has to do, and you could be a desk warrior. Blue Sword likes to minimise costs where it can, but given your nature of work and the value of work that you were involved, there's a lot that you could have to receive. Yet....if you think your other eye is up to it, I'm willing to run you through a shooting exercise through this week, if you want to return. If you need time out, I understand. But there's a new role we think we have for you, and I will let you have that opportunity and tell you more about it when the time comes." Natalie added, as she flipped open her laptop on the desk, pushing it to the side.
"There is also something I should show you, given that you may be surprised to hear what you just did to this network. It was something beyond the scale of what any intelligence agency has found yet. You found a back door into their internal server network. And even better, the commander you...well, kidnapped did return to our custody in a later operation, so I'm told. And after some convincing and car batteries later, he did tell us lots about what our next move can be. Of course, they know their network is compromised. But we still hold the cards here, and already, we've found leads across the globe, some in places we never thought we'd find. What you did is going to cut short our little goose chase." Natalie knew she had a lot to say, as she breathed out, looking across the air conditioned room from her huge stature in the chair, back at Eric.
"This is probably a lot to take in. So, I'll let you think your options through."
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