#look half of these are like directed at buck; ryan really made some acting choices huh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

venactricisfics · 4 years

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Wheels Up

The Unit-based Story

I don’t know what possessed me to get on the stage. Likely that third or fourth shot of Patron. And some healthy encouragement from the people in the bar. I had a mic in my hand I was belting out the lyrics that scrolled across the screen in front of me. Jirating my hips to the rhythm of the music.

“You're motoring

What's your price for flight

In finding mister right

You'll be alright tonight…”

I hadn’t felt adrenaline like that outside of combat. At least with karaoke, I was less likely to get shot.

Maybe.

____________________________________

I down the remaining contents of coffee from the paper cup, staring at the sign for my new unit in shock. The way it was presented, I was getting an advancement opportunity.

The 303rd Logistics Studies Group.

What the hell do they need me here for? Maybe the paper pushers needed protection from paper cuts.

I tuck my cap in my side pocket and smooth my hair back after entering the building. Eyes scan the room. The Army seems to be very protective of their paper pushers.

“Sister Christian, right?” a deep voice from behind me asked. I turn toward the voice a little confused until he added, “From the Stand last night. You really know how to work a stage.”

“Yeah, that was me,” my cheeks flush, “How awful was I?”

“Not bad actually,” he responds, “I enjoyed the show.” He was far too attractive to be a paper pusher.

“Are you a clerk here?” I motion to the very secure key card access only door.

“Something like that,” he gives me a smile that said there was more to it than that. He was wearing street clothes. Odd. But opened up possibilities. He glances down at my chest then back up to my eyes, “Seargent Reynolds.” He points to the desk behind me.

“Right, I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” he responds as he scans his badge then heads behind the heavy door.

I turn my attention back to the desk and give the Seargent First Class my orders. “Sgt Mitch Reynolds?” He gives me a confused look.

“My parents were expecting a boy,” I respond, “I was a surprise.”

“The Colonel will be surprised as well,” he hands me back my papers and my very own key card. Then leads me behind the door.

“Logistics,” I take in my surroundings, “is different than I was expecting.”

“Unofficially,” he states as we approach the end of the hall, “we are not clerks. Everything past that door,” he motions back the way we came, “is classified outside the Unit. Colonel Ryan will be with you soon.”

“Come in,” voice booms from the office at the end of the hall. I walk confidently inside, standing directly in front of the oak desk. “Sgt Mitch Reynolds reporting for duty, sir.”

“At ease, soldier,” he states and I relax and change my position. “You seem to have us at a disadvantage.”

“What do you mean, sir?” I respond voice stiff and military.

“The decision to assign you here seems to be a clerical error,” the Col says.

“I thought it odd Logistics needed a dog handler, sir,” I state.

“We do need a handler,” he replies, “but there are no women in the Unit.” I couldn’t keep the confused look from my face. Special Forces. The Army Unit that didn’t officially exist.

“All due respect, sir,” I lock my gaze on him, “if you’ve read my file, you'll see I meet or exceed every qualification. I’m an expert marksman, I speak three languages, am an experienced dog handler, and have medical training for both humans and dogs. The only thing I seem to be missing, sir, is a penis. I can’t do anything about that.”

“Wheels up on your first mission at 13:00,” Col Ryan says, “you get there with your gear and dog and we’ll call this a trial.”

“I’ll be there, sir, thank you,” I wait a moment to be dismissed. Lips spread into a smile as I walk back toward the door. The first stop after leaving the 303rd Logistics Studies was the kennel. I had to see my dog.

When I got on base the day before I made sure Beau was settled in the kennel. It always took him a while to get settled. It took me three shots of tequila. “You ready?” I talk to him as though he would answer back as I load his crate in the back of my SUV along with all of our gear, “Col Ryan didn’t give specifics on what the mission is or who we’re going with, but this will be a real shot for us.” He tilts his head to the side in recognition. I open his kennel door, “Car.” He moves quickly hopping into the crate.

It was a short drive from the base kennel to the plane. The plane was smaller than I expected. And it wasn't a platoon of soldiers waiting. It was a squad of five guys. Including my fan from the bar last night.

"If I didn't know any better, " I offer him a smile as I move to the back of my vehicle, "I'd think you were following me."

"Could be, " he responds, "though I was here first. So are you following me?"

"I might be, " I shoot him a wink and open the hatch. "So I take it you are not a clerk." I grab my pack and drop it to the ground at my feet. Beau stands in his crate ready to be let out.

"You got it, " he watches me hoist my pack on my shoulders and grab Beau's leash. My dog paces ready to get to work.

"Back, sit, " I command before opening the kennel door. I clip the leash to his harness and he waits for me to give the command, "Down, " before jumping down to stand beside me. "Good, boy."

"I'm gonna assume that you're the handler joining us on this mission, " he says.

"That's right, " I responded, "you already know so much about me, " I walk, Beau at my side, with him toward the other men, "I don't know your name."

"Grey, " he says, "Charles." Once on the plane, he extends the introductions. Bob Brown, Hector Williams, Mack Gerhardt, and their leader Jonas Blane

"Mitch Reynolds, " I feel a tug on the leash, "this is Beau."

"Sanitized uniforms, going forward, Reynolds, " Blane states as he pokes my name and rank on my shirt. This elicits a deep growl from Beau. My grip tightens on his leash. Beau stays tight to my side.

"Yes, Sgt Major, " I didn't give excuses, I wasn't given instructions other than to show up with my dog. I'd have to learn fast how to belong to a group that doesn't officially exist.

"Your dog protect you?" He asked.

"If I loosen my grip, he'd break your hand, Sgt Major," I respond.

"Better get changed and get him and your gear loaded then, " he says, "I need both my hands intact for this mission."

Fifteen minutes later I’d changed into a matching black special forces uniform as my companions and I’m strapping Beau’s kennel to the plane’s wall. The plane crate was heavier duty than the one I kept in my car. I checked the locks and straps a half dozen times before I felt secure stepping away. I'm not only responsible for myself, but I’m also responsible for Beau. I wouldn’t pass the buck to any of the men. Though Bob did offer to lift the crate in place. The shaking of Sgt Mgr Blane’s head didn’t go unnoticed. They had to see that I could do things every bit as well as they could. And take care of my dog.

I set my pack on the floor beside me and take a seat. I grew accustomed to being on missions with just men in the Army. I enjoyed the dirty work. And the Army had that in spades if I wanted it. And I wanted it more than anything.

“Beau stay with you?” Charles pulls me out of my thoughts with his question and sits across from me. Beau tilts his head in his direction.

“Only when we’re deployed,” I respond, “he stays at the kennels on base when we’re there. Safer you know?”

“Good to know,” he scans me over, the black t-shirt clings to my chest tighter than my uniform. I notice. Beau barks. I shush him.

“You don’t have to worry about being cockblocked by a dog,” I give him a wink.

“I like her, Carlito,” Mack laughs.

“Yeah, I think I do too,” Charles says.

“Thanks, I try,” I respond, “though not too hard. Don’t want it to be too easy for you.” I turn my eyes to the window, “Where are we going?”

“That’s classified,” Sgt Mgr Blane says, ��until you’re in you don’t get specifics. But I can tell you we won’t be landing for a couple of hours. Rest up,” his eyes move from me to the rest of the men, “that goes for all of you.”

“OK,” I nodded the men each shifted to a more comfortable position. They seemed to be in sync with each other and I only had that kind of connection with Beau. I move to the cargo floor and sit beside him, resting my hand on his cage door and my head leans back on the plane wall. “Need to be at our best,” I stroke his fur through the gaps in the cage door. “Get some sleep.”

I awake with a start when the plane starts to descend. The others were already armed and ready. I rub my eye with the heel of my hand. I check my weapon and holster it. Then double-checking my pack for Beau and I need for this classified mission. I strapped on my kevlar and Beau’s as Blane speaks.

“Target is this man,” he passes a picture of a Somali faction leader. “He’s responsible for an assassination attempt on the Prince of Shabaab. If he attempts again and succeeds, international war will break out. Our job is to bring him down, as discrete as possible. Are you ready Sgt Reynolds?” He glances from me to Beau.

“We just need something with his scent,” I respond, “and we’ll track him. Find him and take him down.” Blane hands me a bag with a stained shirt in it. I click the leash in place and follow the men off the plane. Beau tight at my side.

There comes a time when you’ve trained and sweat and you’re ready. You have no choice but to be ready. You just have to act. Today was the day everything I’d learned, everything I trained Beau to do would be tested. And if I failed, we failed, it could cost everyone.

I breathe, I couldn’t let the fear that I had traveled down the leash, Beau would feel the tension. I breathe again, my boots hit the pavement. It wasn’t long until we were in a market place. The sights and sounds were overwhelming for me, “It’s ok, boy.” He tugs his leash, “he’s in there.” I motion to the building across the street.

“You sure?” Mack looked at me then to my dog, “we won’t have time for second guesses.”

“I trust him 100%,” I confident. I let the team take the lead. We pass through the lobby and into the stairwell. I glance up, there had to be fifteen flights at least. I look at Beau and then back up, “He’s on the top floor right?” Beau glances up at me then tugs this leash pulling me up the stairs. “Right, let’s get our cardio in.”

The door to the top floor is pushed open, I follow behind the squad of men. Scanning the area and take queues from my dog. The room was empty. I watch as the men scan the room.

“He’s not here, Top,” Mack said to Blane, “Could’ve just left or…” the glanced back to me and Beau, “We got bad intel.”

I take Beau around the room and he comes to the center of the floor and starts to scratch at the carpet, “Here the target is here,” I tug the leash, “Back.” Bob drops down and pulls back the carpet revealing a trap door. I take a step back as the other men raise their weapons. Bob mouths, “Three, two, one,” then pulls open the door. Shots are fired. From inside of the floor and from the men behind me.

“Down,” Beau drops to his stomach at the command. I release the leash and pull my sidearm from its holster. The target finally climbs from the whole and Beau goes for him. I didn’t think, I just act. The vibration of my pistol in my radiates down my arm as the bullet exits the chamber. The target drops to the ground, a bullet through his skull, and Beau’s feet planted firmly on his chest. “Good boy, Beau, now Off,” I holster my pistol again and call the dog back to me.

“Top, we can’t go back down the steps,” Hector had been keeping watch on the door, “Window. Fire escape.” I glance down, the fire escape was essentially a ladder bolted to the brick wall. I’d have to carry Beau down. There would be no other way to get down. I clip climbing straps to Beau’s harness and then hook them over my shoulders. “After y’all,” I wait until Charlie made it at least a flight down the ladder, “Ok, Beau, Settle,” I blow out a breath of air as I swing my leg over the window ledge my boot firm on the rung of the ladder. I climb, carrying the weight of myself, my gear, and my dog. I felt every ounce all the way down.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here and go home,” Mack barked as soon as my feet hit the ground. As quickly as we came we left. The adrenaline still coursing through my veins when the plane touches back down at Fort Griffith.

"Welcome to the Unit, " Blane says as we walk into the Logistics building. "Unfortunately we don't have a separate female locker room. But here's your assignment and all your information. As far as Beau goes, " he looks down at my dog and opens the locker room door. "He has a special kennel set up here in the cave so you no longer have to clear his departure with the base kennels."

"Thank you, Sgt Major, " I say taking the papers and letting Beau go inspect the crate set up in the corner of the locker room.

“Jonas will do. And your call sign,” he motions to the paper, “Sister Christian.”

Part 2

#michael irby #the unit #mayans smut #military story

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