"Amid the droning darkness within the dimly lit bowels of the C130 the squad leaders of Hitman, Gambler and Centurion teams meet one final time in the rear of the Aircraft near the doors. Reaching for a flashlight, Dimitry, “Strelok” the platoon commander the unit, is fighting to make himself heard above the noise of the aircraft.
“Remember, just like the pre op jump we made three weeks ago, stick together. Turn your IR strobes on before you leave the plane and maintain a diamond formation. Stay close so you can see each other, but far enough to avoid colliding or any mishaps during the HALO. Got it?” Strelok wiggles a flashlight out of a tightly packed pocket. Switching it on he points it at a map of the island with a red mark around the designated landing zone “This is where we will try to land and link up. Pilots are going to drop us half a minute early. Once you hit the deck rally your squads and make a quick map check. Get oriented and then begin moving to the RVP we will link up there and then proceed to the objective. Remember to make scheduled radio contact at approximately five minutes after you hit the deck as well.” Nodding his head Frostmourne looks at the map “Is there a second RVP if we fail to make primary in an hour?” he asks as he eyes over the blacked out gear of his platoon commander. “Nope” Strelok remarks, “Which is why it is imperative that you meet us at this LZ. The initial contact with Kingfish must happen tonight”. All of the squad leaders nod in agreement “Good luck and I will see you guys on the deck” Strelok finishes and dismisses the overloaded team leaders back to their seats.
After minutes of struggle trying to fit the small flashlight back into his overstuffed thigh pocket on his black BDU. Strelok tosses his flashlight on the floor of the plane in frustration “I’m sure that’s going to be a bugger out of the way anyways” he mumbles to himself. Looking around him at the men loaded in the seats of the C130. After what seems like hours finally the pre jump light breaks the dim lighting of the cargo bay--illuminating Strelok in a blood red glow. The other Green Berets look on to their commander waiting for him to give the signal to stand up. A brief moment passes and strelok gives the signal to stand up shouting “Stand up and sound off for equipment check” Ribcage struggles to stand up, falling several times back into his seat. “Hey PL give me a hand here, I'm a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ lead weight med-packing Santa Claus While you are at it would you mind taking about a hundred pounds off me?”. With a smirk Strelok waddles over to Ribcage “Are you going to make the jump?” he asks sarcastically “Oh yes, once I can take my main, and reserve parachute off when we hit the LZ I will be golden. Even more so when we find a hide site to begin the op” and several other men around him help Ribcage upright. Strelok wades back into the far side of the cargo bay near the door “three minutes” He shouts as he gestures for the equipment check to begin. Tull checks over his gear then immediately after yells “One four is Green” then begins checking Ribcage’s backpack and gear, as well as webbing and straps ensuring everything is in place and tight then tapping him on the shoulder as Ribcage finishes his own final check “One Three is green” he yells and begins inspecting Emofudd’s gear. He tightens the left shoulder strap connecting the primary to reserve parachute. Ribcage pats Emofudd on the back “I’m green” Emofudd yells. The checks domino onward. Each man in the aircraft triple checks gear and re-tightens webbing. Nerves, sweat, and the noise of plane engines. Not long after the Yellow light begins blinking in the aircraft cargo bay signaling that the door is about to open Strelok quickly waddles forward from the door ramp and onto the floor watching for the crack as the doors open. Suddenly the dim quiet hum of the cargobay is shattered by the rush of air flowing into the metal cabin where the men stood the sound of the engines drowns out everything including thought itself. Strelok raises his hand to his forehead saluting the men in front of him. Screaming over the deafening rush of the wind and the roar of the engines “Remember to stick close and maintain formation I will see you all soon” he struggles to the edge of the ramp looking on into the night. Waiting anxiously for the green light as the men form up in squads.
Finally the long awaited green light. No more anticipation or volition. Strelok pitched into the penetrating cold air, and all the other squad members, beacons on, hurtling into the wind over the drop zone. Looking into the horizon eyes darting between altimeter and Micro GPS. The darkness is complete and overwhelming. After what seems like days, which in reality lasts only 3 short minutes of free fall, Strelok checks his altimeter “three thousand” he notes outloud to himself carefully reaching for his main parachute cord watching his altimeter cautiously “2,800 here we go” he thinks to himself. Turning his head upward Strelok yanks his cord and the parachute hurls into the cold night sky and opens, like a man on the end of a whip Strelok is jolted to a near halt. He looks around him watching the others deploy their parachutes. Focusing on the ground beneath him, squinting to try and find the clearing in the forest which was their landing zone. Yanking his risers to steer himself onto a path to make his landing in the clearing he watches all the men begin to regain control after the thrashing shock of initial opening. Tugging hard straight down on both risers Strelok struggles to slow himself mere meters above the ground. His feet rustle through the treetops as he lowers himself onto the clearing in the forest. His parachute crinkles and begins to fold in on itself as his legs touch the earth, and the air once giving him lift no longer fills the long vents of the canopy. The sound of surging air of the jump is replaced with that of the tranquil, quiet, moonless forest floor and the thousands of indigenous bugs singing to the ether of the night. Tall grass conceals the impact of the men as they land one by one. The night burns on seemingly undisturbed as the paratroopers procedurally touch down in the clearing then methodically deflate and repack, while wrestling their parachutes and finally make radio contact. Cautiously the men move into the cover of the forest.
"