8:10:2003/13:29 Rage was spewing out of the commander’s mouth at the rookie who had just failed an easy mission. The slightly bald thirty-four year old army Veteran was sitting at his desk with the black phone receiver to his ears. “You are honestly saying that there was no way to save James!” Commander Carl Jenkins had been in the military for sixteen long years and was now in control of the USAFHS. The United States Air Force Helicopter Squadron was the worst ranked in the world after a hefty amount of failures that continued to spray onto the commanders desk. And Carl Jenkins was taking the rap. The detestable helicopter Squad was about to come crashing off of Cloud nine to they hard cement in the parking lot of Commander Jenkins’ office. All sorts of Special Operation helicopter missions had failed because of the lack of people wanting to fly, and the lack of people who could fly who were willing to die for the country. And now a new recruit rookie was making a mess of things in Hungary. The Desk of the commander was filled with reports dating back to September 11th 2001, when this whole issue started with the secret service and homeland security. Helicopter pilots were scared of terrorism and missions were failed because of it. The dirty boots the commander were being smeared over copies of transcripts of pilots who specialized in chopper flight and stealth. “Sam, you have an hour to get back here,” the Commander said strongly but with a sense of fear. “You really messed up, No Civilians were to die, and the hostage is dead.” “Sir, I really didn’t mean to fai…” “But, you did,” the commander was stressed and about to tear. “Pack your bags.” “But, Sir!” It was no use the phone line went dead as the commander slammed the receiver back at its place as he started searching the table for transcripts of a new pilot. Names flashed by as the commander scanned the sheets for something that caught his eye. Nothing did. Steven Rice, no, Adam Gerick, no, Kim Phedeaux, no. nothing was in his favor. It looked as though he was in trouble. Samuel Johnson, no, Caiman Steel… The commander stopped, he knew that name. Caiman Steel was a partner in The Kuwait Mission fast in 1991. Kuwait City, United States Embassy and the USMC FAST. Carl could recall that day better than any other day in the United States Marine Corps history, when the Fleet Anti-Terrorist Security Team took back the US Embassy. any good so far? any comments?