Strike Force Zulu - Chapter 3: 03:30 March 31st

The high beams of the Subaru’s headlights cut through the sheer darkness of the early morning. Apart from the stars, which were gorgeous, there was no other illumination in this stretch of the road other than those beams and the reflection they made off of the snow. Richard tried to focus on the mostly unfamiliar road, particularly since it was covered in six inches of loose powdery white stuff, but he found himself having difficulty doing so. ‘Must be the lack of sleep. We were unpacking until the wee hours’ Richard found his awareness drifting in and out, definitely not paying attention fully to the road as he should be.

He and his wife had just moved out here from Savannah, Georgia. After serving in the United States Army as an officer for twenty-two years, specifically as a pilot for UH-1 Hueys, UH-60 Blackhawks, and finally MH-60 Pavehawks with the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SOAR), Richard finally felt that the political environment was becoming too hostile to stay in. The current President was extremely anti-military and was doing everything in his power to force the Hawks out of positions of responsibility and power while doing everything he could to put Doves* in their place. As a result, the Army he knew and loved, was no more.

Richard had made it all the way to the rank of Colonel from the humble beginning of being an enlisted soldier before he retired. He had started out as a crewchief on Hueys, gotten up to the rank of Sergeant, given the chance to go to OCS**, and finally been the commanding officer of the 160th SOAR many years later. He loved flying with those madmen. While every mission had been dangerous, they were doing something worth doing.

The entire regiment was known as the Night Stalkers due to their specialization for night operations. However, each battalion specialized in something just a little different. The First and Second Battalions were based up at Fort Campbell, Kentucky, the Third was based at Hunter Army Airfield, Savannah, Georgia, and finally, the Fourth was based out at Joint Base Lewis-McChord, Washington.

Nominally, the regiment should have been headquartered at Fort Campbell, but Richard’s predecessor had made the move down to Hunter Army Airfield due to facility issues after an explosion. Richard would have moved back up to Campbell soon since the new headquarters building was almost complete had he not retired. ‘and if I hadn’t gotten that phone call letting me know, politely of course, that there wasn’t a future for me in the Army and if I stayed in that there would be no promotions of the men under me…’

He hadn’t wanted to retire, not yet. The OPTEMPO (Operations Tempo) was picking up with missions around the world. The War on Terror was in full swing, and his boys needed him. But choosing to sacrifice his own career so that his boys could have theirs… that was the final decision. He did not regret the decision, but he sure as Hell hated the fuckers that made him make that choice.

Sighing internally, Richard took his eyes off the road to turn the radio on to the news. Something, anything, to keep himself awake and not thinking about these sorts of things right now. Pressing the button, all he got was some static. Turning the knob in the hopes something would be received, he gave up after a few seconds. ‘Well that is going to be annoying. I guess we are too deep in the mountains to get good signal.’ Bringing his eyes back up to the road he… ‘ELLKK!!!!’, he started to slam on the brakes and forcefully stopped himself in time, letting off of the gas and relaxing his body for the collision that was bound to occur, only to exhale in relief when the elk stepped out of the way in time.

Had Richard slammed on the brake instictually or even turned the wheel sharply, in this much snow he would have lost control of the vehicle. Breathing heavily and now fully awake, blood singing in his ears, Richard coasted to a stop at the top of this hill. ‘Ok, I have to get my thoughts out of the past and pay attention to now or Cathy is going to be a widow.’ There was a reason that helicopter pilots would call eyes in and eyes out so that their co-pilot could do the opposite… Not paying attention to your surroundings would get you killed.

Putting his foot back on the gas pedal, Richard continued down the road into the valley that held Deer Creek. From talking to the locals, for some reason, the Elk loved to hang around Deer Creek in this valley and one valley over, near his new house, the deer hung out around Elk Creek. Its almost as if the animals wanted the stupid humans to know that they had misnamed the small moving bodies of water. Perhaps sometime in the past, further downstream it was the opposite. Who knew… Regardless, be it a decently sized Mule Deer or an average sized Elk, neither were fun to hit… mind you, the Elk would be worse. Akin to hitting a Moose. Knock them over by the legs, and then the huge, heavy body smashes our car in from top…

‘Wake up Richard… no sense in dying now. There were plenty of chances in the past. No death by Cervus canadensis today.’ Focusing fully on the road, Richard continued on CR 43 towards Highway 285 so he could hopefully get some speed going down the hill.