Deployed

By BernadetteP All Rights Reserved ©

Adventure / Romance

Blurb

Myron has gained himself quite the name as a special ops sort of guy. When there are hard to get into places needing special attention Myron is the name the Military calls out. Myron is a bit of a daredevil with his helicopter and some would even say with this life and women. Hey makes a game of messing around with missiles and compares them to the women he has dated. If he is not careful he will collide with one or the other and there might be a big kaboom to contend with. Join Myron on his exploits to Kuwait and stick around to see what happens.

Call to Duty


Chapter One

Call to Duty

As a Military, helicopter pilot, in this man’s army the idea of deployment to an area where the latest fighting had broken out, brought feelings of excitement and anxiety to his heart. His first love was that of flying, and as the proverbial carrot, they had promised, a brand new never before flown helicopter, if he took this assignment. With this promise in mind, he accepted the assignment and now he was looking forward to climbing into the cockpit of the new helicopter and getting her up into the air. He also knew that flying behind enemy lines would bring definite danger in the form of bullets, heat seeking missiles and perhaps even an RPG or two.

As one of the best pilots in his division, head office requisitioned his expertize, for an extremely sensitive and dangerous deployment.

His assignment was to retrieve a few high-ranking, officials. It seemed they had inadvertently gotten themselves trapped behind enemy lines and were now off the grid. All of the attempts to track them down had failed and now they had come to a point, in which they knew, for the safe return of all or most of the missing members, it was time to call in members from the Special Forces. Even though the missing officials had high quality, top-notch radios with GPS capability, for some reason, they were not functioning properly and did not seem to be updating, coordinate retrieval information, which would have made for an easier, safer return. This was why brass opted to call Captain Myron Skoryk in to get the job done.

Head office was working off four theories, from best-case scenario to worst. First, the officials disconnected their equipment in order to maintain radio silence and keep the wrong parties from finding them. Second, unlikely but possible, the equipment could be faulty, causing it to quit working. Third, the caravan of delegates and officials had been captured and were now being held prisoners of war. Fourth, the caravan of delegates found themselves in the middle of an ambush and they had all perished.

All Myron was that this was supposed to be a quick job, get in and get out. Find the officials and bring them home. It only took him a few minutes to throw a couple sets of civilian clothes as well as his necessities, shaving gear, shampoo and skivvies into a small duffle bag.

Major Roman Romanoff was waiting outside, so he didn’t have much time to pick and choose what he wanted to take with him. Part of Major Romanoff’s job happened to be, to escort the Captain to the hangar, and give him, the information head-office deemed pertinent.

At this point, the only information given to Captain Skoryk, ‘It’s a need to know, as you go’ type of an assignment. As head office determines it appropriate to feed him more information, they would contact him and fill him in on any information considered pertinent.

The drive to the airbase, with Major Romanoff was short, but not nearly as informative, as Myron had hoped it would be.

“Report to this number upon completion of the instructions given to you. When you’ve completed your report you’ll receive the next bit of information needed to proceed.”

“What if I’m in an area that cannot transmit or in an area that’ll transmit to enemy parties?”

Major Roman Romanoff gave Myron a puzzled look, “Everything is in code! Even that number isn’t the actual number. You should know better that than Skoryk, this is not your first time in the center ring of this ‘circus’.”

“Come on, Romanoff. Who are these guys? If they’re that important, why are they even there? Kuwait at this time would not be the best place for high ranking mucky-mucks to be going to visit.”

“Who the officials are, is unimportant. Who the officials are or why they’re there is privileged information until you find them. You just need to get them home safe, if they’re still alive.”

“But it would make my job of finding them easier if you told me what to look for.”

“You have all the information you need. You’re searching for a caravan of Big Wigs who need to be found!”

“Well then, how many are or were in the caravan?”

“That is privileged information too. However, you will learn more when you get there. As you go, we will give you all and any pertinent information you need. Here are the coordinates where the attack took place. Oh and by the way, as you know sometimes these assignments become a complete FUBAR. As in the past with other secret assignments, instructions may change at the drop of a hat.”

As the Major pulled up to the base hangar and stopped, Myron jumped out of the vehicle, grabbed his bag, saluted, and headed into the hangar.

There were times when Myron equated himself to Maverick from the movie ‘Top Gun’. A fly-boy with a rebellious attitude, an ability and determination strong enough to out fly, out maneuver, or outsmart the heaviest of missiles and enemy wild fire in the air. The exception being, that was a movie with little possibility of anyone actually dying. In real life however, the occasional miscommunication or miscalculation was bound to occur and death would be the outcome.

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