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Out from the Cold. The SPECWAR story.

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SPECWAR

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Airman First Class
Airman First Class

Posts: 181

Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 9:16 pm

Location: Las Vegas, NV

Post Sun Mar 27, 2011 1:11 am

Out from the Cold. The SPECWAR story.

Chapter One
0730 HRS PST
As the C-21 made a bumpy lazy eastern turn over the Canadian Airspace, the aircraft commander leaned over talked back to the navigator, “Looks like we’ll be staying over tonight”, and saying with a rye grin. “Better tell our guests we won’t be landing in Fairbanks today.” The captain was right the National Weather Service had advised that all air traffic this far north divert south due to a cold weather front moving in from the Artic Circle. Even though it was the middle of June over the Northern Territories the weather is a cruel mistress.

The navigator braced himself against the row of seats in the cramped airframe, leading back to the two very uncomfortable, and very unnerved passengers. “Sir’s, we’re having to divert the flight. Fairbanks is fogged in and the visibility is near zero”. “We will be landing at Clear Air station until the weather clears up.” The NID caseworker was as pale as a sheet when he spoke. “What does that mean, Lieutenant?” The navigator smiled as plane rocked through the turbulence, he kind of liked the look of the suit being out of his element. “It means, sir, you will have saved about 4 hours drive time getting to your destination. Can I get you a air sickness bag?. NID caseworker Worthington knew he was being screwed with. It was times like these he hated being away from the Beltway traffic and the relative safety of his office in Georgetown. “How much closer are we talking about Captain Marshall?”, as he leaned closer to his partner. She was a USAF newly commissioned Captain, assigned to the SGC as a headhunter of sorts. To go out into the wild, so to speak and bring back the best and brightest for the newly commissioned USS Iliad. “About two hours drive time, most of it on old logging roads”.
“Great, we’re looking for Grizzly Adams!” Worthington said, as he was starting to heave.

Forty-five minute later the little plane landed on the short runway at Clear Air station. The C-21 taxied to an enclosed hanger to get out of the rain. A very airsick Worthington made his way to the restroom at the air terminal building. The Captain stepped of the plane looking in much better shape than her estranged partner. “That was a beautiful landing Major.” She said with a wink. “You act as if you have been on a plane before, Captain.” He said. She replied, “Spent the first three years of my career as a navigator on a C-130H, doing combat landings over the deserts Djibouti. I’m used to rough flights and even harder landings.” The Major smiled, “I think you better go check on Agent Worthington, he doesn’t seem too cut out for this type of assignments.” “Don’t worry about him; he’s used to doing these field interviews under, how I should say it, more modern conditions.” She said as Worthington walking back to her, in a more flesh colored tint.

A Security Forces Staff Sergeant came rolling over in a M-1008 CUCV, a camo version of a Chevy Blazer 4X4. “I’m SGT. Jenkins, I’ve been briefed and will be your escort out to SPEC’s place, come on folks it’s a long drive.” After a long and bumpy silence, Agent Worthington spoke up. “Sergeant, I think you missed a pothole back there.” “Sorry sir, would you like me to go back and find it?” Jenkins said with a grin ,not taking his eyes off the road. “Captain, can we go over the jacket one more time, I still don’t see why we are going after a man who still in the twenty-first century, doesn’t own a cell phone!” Worthington said. “Alright,” she grinned, “Subject: MacRae, William, former Security Police troop before they combined the fields, attended US Army Ranger School graduating at the top of his class. Transferred to the 16th Special Tactics Squadron as a member of a “Phoenix Raven” team. Cross trained as a Survival Instructor and Equipment Evaluator for a while, strange that’s where the file ends.” “Not really, Captain Marshall. You see, he did some covert work for us while assigned to the 16th STS. On assignment right after the “White Rock Station” incident, his team was sent in to recover a downed Goa’uld Death Glider and it’s supposed “dead” crew. A fire fight ensued and he was the sole survivor. He survived on that mountain range for almost two months alone. The rescue teams gave up the search after just two weeks, due to the political ramifications and local government instability. When he returned he was, how should you say…upset.” “I should think so, don’t you?” said the sergeant. “It was vital to find that they find the glider intact and recover anything useful, which was his mission!” All of the sudden the CUCV slammed on its brakes! “What the hell, Jenkins!” the Agent yelled. “SPEC happens to be very good friend of mine, and I WON’T let any paper pusher from Washington try to tarnish that image! I will stop right here and kick your scrawny butt out right here and see how long you last in the Denali Range…alone!” Jenkins said, thinking in hind sight that his carrier was over; he forgot that he had a Captain in the front seat.

After a few moments of a serious stare-down, the Sergeant put the CUCV back in drive and continued the rest of the drive. “Sorry ma’am, I was out of line, but I’ve seen SPEC in action.” “Apology, accepted. What do you mean action, and why do you call Sgt. MacRae SPEC?” asked the Captain. “Well Sergeant, please enlighten us with your professional insight.” Worthington said while still rubbing his shoulder and nose from where the seatbelt caught and when his face hit the back of the seat. Jenkins wanted to slam on the brakes again, thinking he might be able to break this weasel’s nose, but just decided to answer the question. “SPEC is short for “SPECWAR”, you know special warfare. It was his call sign, SPEC for short. I know what he did for me and my family was above and beyond, and it cost him his carrier.” Worthington looked confused, “What do you mean your family?”

Jenkins pulled the CUCV off on to the shoulder of the road, and turn to the back seat, and explained. “Right before, SPEC got out, he transferred to the Survival School as an instructor. He believed that he could teach what he knew to others so that they would never lose hope and to make sure that the searchers never gave up! Well, after about two years into the gig…”, the Jenkins fell silent. “There was a call, of three climbers up on the south face of McKinley, socked in by heavy weather, one of the climbers was severely injured and all were slowly freezing to death. The PJ’s called on him, for his expertise and experience. Against all odds, and orders, he made attempt, alone. As the rescue team approached the summit they were called off as the weather worsened. SPEC was in a C-130, circling the summit as an advisor. He was so P.O.’ed that some one back in Fairbanks was calling the shots, he jumped. I mean a HALO insertion, never tell those spec-ops guys they can’t do something!” his voice rose. “He preformed one of the world’s highest altitude rescue jumps, in blizzard conditions with little to no visibility! After three days of hellish weather, they found him and one of the youngest climbers alive on the face of that rock, that climber was my daughter. If they had acted instead waiting, the other two would have lived.” Worthington fell silent, knowing that he touched on a sore spot. “That’s when he was discharged for striking an officer?” Marshall asked. “Yes, he was given an Other Than Honorable Discharge; the powers that be took into account his service to his country.”

An hour later they arrived at a small cabin surrounded by some of the darkest woods that Agent Worthington and Capt. Marshall had seen; It was a very tranquil place, a small garden sat off to the left side of the house and the garage off to the right. A Ski Doo was up on a motorcycle lift in the shop, it looked like it was in the middle of repairs when the trio walked in through the open bay door. The shop was a very neat and orderly place, an old Cannondale Super V 4000 DH mountain bike hung on the wall along with several rucksacks, assorted military gear and hardwear. Agent Worthington edged over to a tarped vehicle, the shape he did not recognize. As he reached to pull off the tarp, the sound of a lever action rifle could be heard, and it was being pointed at Worthington’s head. “Still boggles the old headbone why they don’t teach manners anymore.” Said the voice out from behind the vehicle. The lever action was in fact a “Mare’s Leg” 30-30 pistol, and intimidating sight for the Captain and the Agent. SPEC looked like a TIER-1 operator, right down to the two week old stubble. He was wearing jeans and an OD green polar fleece SPEAR jacket, and to top it off he was wearing a dew-rag on his head and a shemega around his neck. The Oakley boots were as quite as slippers and he move toward them. He stared them down through the dark glacier glasses he wore. “Now, put up your hands and back out of my garage slowly.” As the three obliged, they could now see the figure emerge from the dark. “Hey Kenny, how’s the girl, and put down your hands man, you family!” said the figure.

“These people are here to see you, and she doing great. She starts her junior year in college this fall.” Jenkins said in a jovial voice. Worthington and Marshall were still standing with their hands in the air. “Is this really necessary, we just want to talk, that’s all!” Worthington’s voice quivered. SPEC walked a little closer to the Agent, and spoke in a very soft and non-threatening tone. “I’ve been watching ya’ll for the past three miles, ever since you set off my PEWS alarm, whatever you’re selling, and I’m not buying! Now, Ken,” looking over the dark glasses, “did you get my parts and supplies?” “They’re in the truck; by the way your .408 brass is on back order.” Jenkins said smiling. “What! Now I’ll have to wait to shoot the Chey-Tec until you come back, and for Pete’s sake put ya’ll’s hands down you look foolish with your hands in the air. I’ll go make some coffee.” And with that he turned around and when back into the shop. “Be sure to wipe your feet!”

“I’m Agent Worthington with the NID and this is Capt. Marshall with the United States Air Force. We have need of man of your character, the Department of Homeworld Security need’s you and skills.” Worthington sounding more like a used car salesman than a Fed. SPEC had his back turned to the agent; he dropped his head and turned. “Homeworld Security?” he said. “Are you sure you’ve got the right guy, much less the right agency? What is the NID anyway, the No Intelligence Department?” Agent Worthington was clearly upset when spun on a heel and said “This is a complete waste of time and energy! Let’s go!” “Mr. MacRae, please we need your help. Would you like to know the real reason for your mission failure in the mountains of Argentina?” Marshall spoke. Now by the expression on SPEC’s face she had his full attention.” It wasn’t a failure, it was a goat rope and the Intel squirrels knew it, let’s go in the house, and I’ll fix ya’ll some lunch and a place to sleep, storms abrewin’.” “I don’t see a thing, the skies as clear as a bell!” Worthington exclaimed. “Better listen to the man, this is his element.” Said the sergeant, as he unloaded the supplies and all walked in the house. Meanwhile, the light sky started to darken as the front from the north started to roll in, and in twenty minutes it was raining so hard you could not see the CUCV from the cabins porch.

Once inside, Worthington saw a different side to MacRae. The walls were covered with books on survival, archeology and paleontology. The war trophies and photos of dozens of missions and adventures were out for all to see, the awards, the medals, the memories. The latest issues of science, technology, and news magazines covered the coffee table. In one corner of the room sat the reloading bench and gun safe, on the other sat some very high-tech communications gear, satellite phone, and a older LCT-5 com unit with a burst transmitter array. Several laptops were running encryption testing loops. This rivaled anything that NID had in the field. “How did you come across all this gear, some of it I don’t recognize?” Worthington said with a look of puzzlement on his face. SPEC turned back to the agent with a cup of coffee and handed it to him and said, “You won’t, because I designed it, or I test the prototypes in the field. It’s a hobby; I rebuild things like the Rescue Ambulance Tactical Transport out in the shop. Bought her at a DRMO auction and was going to give her to the county fire and rescue, that Agent man was what was under the tarp.” The coffee seemed to calm the high strung agent. “Please, everyone grab a seat and a cup, and sit down. Lunch is almost ready.” As the food was being passed around the table, Marshall spoke. “I want to apologize for-“, SPEC cut her off. “Grace first, then you can apologize.” Once the prayer was spoke, SPEC spoke up, “The trout is fresh and the vegetables are from the garden. I got wind of your arrival yesterday, but the reason still escapes me. Why would an alphabet soup agency agent and a USAF officer want with me, I mean I don’t come up on anyone’s radar unless they have a reason to come looking for me. I do contract work for survival companies and occasionally the US and Canadian governments.” as he took a bite of a biscuit.

“Your mission on that mountainside was a covert retrieval operation. An operation, to seize and secure alien technology.” Worthington said. Then the mood changed. “What do you mean seize? You knew the crew of that aircraft was alive? Alien technology, you or should I say your group was responsible for getting my team killed? You come up here, and have the stones to say that it was a failed mission! It was a blasted set up, and we walked into it like lambs to a slaughter!” “Maybe you should have fought harder, Mr. MacRae.” said Agent Worthington bluntly. SPEC was mad! He moved like a shot of lighting, he got up and lunged toward Worthington, grabbing up him by the lapels and ramming him hard into the stone tile floor. Jenkins and Marshall grabbed him and tried to keep SPEC from killing him. “You did not have need to know!” “SPEC let him go, dude! This rat’s not worth it!” Jenkins yelled out! “Mr. MacRae, please let him go. I know how bad this sounds, but please let him go, we’ll make this right. We want to recruit you for a mission of a life time. We need you, please let him go.” She calmly spoke. “What’s done is done, can’t bring back the past, if I had an airlock, I’d put you in it!” and with that he let him go, and turned to Captain Marshall and said one word. “Alien?”

Three days later, SPEC was on the flight line in Clear, he was kind wanting to go back to the cabin. He had three days, all alone with Worthington, Marshall, and Jenkins. Jenkins was a friend who cared; he kept him from hurting the poor office drone. Agent Worthington was taking care of the travel arrangements, briefing NID and the SGC Command on the firecracker they just lit, and steering well clear of a man that would soon as shove him out an airlock, as easily as flushing a toilet. He reminded himself not to sit near the aircraft hatch, just in case he meant it. Marshall briefed him that he would be flown to Colorado Springs and then to Cheyenne Mountain, and travel be means unknown to the USS Iliad, a ship he had never hear of. The promise of a new start, a reinstatement of rank and a chance to get even with the “aliens”, and maybe find the people responsible for that mission so long ago. Maybe it was a sign to just let it go and move on to a new adventure. The weather was starting to warm up, he was going to the “lower 48’s” and would be missing his home, Alaska, the Last Frontier. Jenkins walked up to his old friend. “How long did you know about this, Ken?” as he looked out at the mountains to the East. “Sorry bud, I was briefed and under orders not to tell you in advance of their arrival, by the way how did you know? I didn’t peep a sound of it.” “Don’t worry about it, I know how OPSEC works. Here’s the keys to the cabin, let the retrieval team get what they need, and finish off the beer in the fridge. Take that daughter of yours camping at the cabin.” Smiling, he still stared out into the bluebird sky and said, “I felt it, something. I don’t know what, but something was in the wind.”
Will "SPECWAR" Gomer
Security and CSAR/SERE Specialist
CO "Charlie" Team, SG-22
USAFV BC304 USS Iliad
SGC
SG-Operations: The Home Base of SGC & SG-SOCOM

"Can't Never Tried!" Bill Gomer
"I remember when NASA was four drunk pilots....And a case of dynamite!"
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SPECWAR

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Airman First Class
Airman First Class

Posts: 181

Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 9:16 pm

Location: Las Vegas, NV

Post Sun Mar 27, 2011 1:42 am

Re: Out from the Cold. The SPECWAR story.

Chapter Two

Cheyenne Mountain



As the Ford Econoline Van pulled up to the gate, a young Senior Airman stepped out into the evening air. A crisp salute was given and she returned it as the airman spoke. “Good evening ma’am, ID and authorization paperwork please.” He scanned through the papers making sure that the names were correct. “Stand by one moment, while I check with the security desk. The security was tight these days and there were more foot patrols around the entrance. Two large and intimidating Security Forces personnel had their Colt

M-4’s slung, and was eyeing the van intently. The Captain did not mind the wait, this was procedure. Meanwhile six levels down in side the mountain, the Central Alarm Station was bring up the van and it’s occupants on the huge 56” monitors. The PTZ camera swung into position and zoomed in. The new security systems had been installed earlier in the year, and were running Facial Recognition Program software. Their individual profiles came up almost instantly. The operator then pulled out a large spiral folder and when to the names one by one, the old school way of doing things. Down on Level 27, Major General Landry was inspecting the new crew rosters for the Iliad launch to the Orion Galaxy, when the phone rang. “General Landry” he answered. A voice on the line told him that his party was arriving and that they were being sent to the briefing room. “Fine send them down, I’ll meet them there.” He liked the way things worked, smooth and with overlapping security, Gen. Hammond had implemented it during his tenure at the SGC, and is still carried on today. The airman came back with a smile. “Ma’am, you and you party are cleared to Level 28, the General is waiting for your group in the briefing room on level 27.” He then saluted, and she return the salute and drove thought the gate and into the mountain.



SPEC had heard of Cheyenne Mountain home of the North American Aerospace Defense Command and joint operation they had with Canada, but he had no idea that there was more to this, that was until they got in the elevator and when down. “I know this is a little too late to ask, but where are we going?” Marshall stood and looked at him, not really sure on how to answer the question. “You really don’t know do you? I think I’ll let General Landry tell you.” SPEC was so sure of this situation. At Level 27, the elevator stopped, and the door slid open. “Follow me, Mr. MacRae, you’ll have you answer soon enough.” Marshall said as she turned right down the hallway. At the end of the passage she turned left, he saw the open office door of Gen. Hank Landry. Unless he was hiding under the desk the room was empty, that was until Worthington stepped in and sat down. “I’ll wait here for Landry”. The hallway spilled into a large conference room with a very large blast screen off to the left. Gen. Landry stood to greet him. He put out his hand; SPEC met him with a firm grasp. “Welcome to the SGC, Tech Sergeant MacRae. It is a pleasure to meet you finally.” A formal greeting by a General. “Sorry sir, its mister now.” The look on Landry’s face didn’t change. SPEC was beginning to wonder how well he played poker. “How would you like to change that? I hear good thing about you, and that you have some… questions.” SPEC was reminded of a saying from Sun Tzu “When in a position of weakness, feign strength. When in a position of strength, feign weakness: then you will have won.” “Yes I do sir, lots of questions.” As they all sat a staffer came with a pitcher of coffee and sat it in the conference table. SPEC was handed a cup. “Do you have any idea why you were selected, well let me tell you why. You don’t give up. Plain and simple.” SPEC seemed to know that Landry knew more than just the military record. “Sir, what is this business about “aliens”, and what happened on the mountain?” SPEC dropped his brow and gazed at Landry. Landry knew this might set him off. “Your op was not of this office, due to your experience you were selected from your squadron by another agency. I will look you in the eye and say that the SGC wouldn’t send you into harm’s way without the right knowledge.” SPEC eased his stare; something in his mannerisms spoke the truth. “OK, what is the SGC?”



This question through Landry for a loop, as he looked at Marshall. “You didn’t tell him?” Marshall looked very embarrassed. “I’m sorry, with all the excitement I forgot.” Landry and SPEC were looking at her; she was holding her composure well. “The SGC is a collective of nations that represent the Earth to the rest of the Universe. Our primary mission is of exploration and dialog with friendly planets and people. We seek trade of information and technology. Well let me give you the “quarter” tour, welcome to Star Gate Command!” as he turned to have blast shutter open. SPEC rose and walked over to the big bay window just as the klaxon went off “Scheduled Offworld Gate Activation, SG-13 arriving.” And that’s when he saw the KAWOOSH. The blue and white rippling energy that formed in the middle of the massive stone like ring, stirred his imagination and then the SG team came through. He had heard all the urban legends, conspiracies, rumors, and whispers before. This was real! “What ever you need I’m there, I want in!” He was grinning from ear to ear. “I knew you would son, I knew you would. Let’s get you cleaned up and squared away, your new C.O. will be expecting you, she will answer the questions about aliens.”



Marshall escorted him to medical for quick flight physical, then to supply. Some of the gear he knew. He had designed similar stuff for recon and spec ops guys, but some of it was different, especially this new holster. He was shown the locker room so that he could shower and shave. He was always hygienic in the field, but even he had to admit that shower felt good on his tired old self, especially not having to worry about how much hot water you used. It seemed to be, as if he was washing off the old self, and becoming something better. When he came out, he was in a flight suit and a new pair of boots. He remembered that Marshall had not seen him without the bandana, Marshall had come up to him, but she didn’t recognize him. “Excuse me, can you tell our guest to please hurry.” He couldn’t keep a straight face. She looked at him strangely, and asked “Sergeant, what are you grinning at?” She looked at his name tab and took a step back, in shock. “I clean up pretty good for a mountain man.” SPECWAR was back!



“He what!” Agent Worthington was standing in Landry’s office attempting to read him the riot act. He ranted and raved that MacRae was not only a menace to himself, but to everyone around him. He finally broke down and said that he was unsuited for the mission, and that he should be brought up on federal assault charges for what happened in the cabin. “He threatened to toss me out of an airlock!” Enough was enough and this was going to end badly for Worthington when Landry stood up. “Shut your mouth! He is the perfect candidate for the mission and I agree with the XO of the Iliad on her selection. By the way I got a hold of the after action report, read it from cover to cover. and you know what it tells me?” Worthington bit his lip. ”It tells me that the NID has some very large holes in it’s security, and the way this reports reads, the Trust, the IOA, or a rogue NID element took advantage of an USAF STS unit, and got people killed! In my professional opinion, that is misappropriation of military assets, and that means hard time. I think you would look good in brown BDU’s breaking big rocks into smaller rocks at the US Disciplinary Barracks at Ft. Leavenworth!” Worthington just glared at Landry. “This discussion is not over and I will have MacRae’s head on a platter for what he did.” And with that, Worthington turned and walked out of the office. Landry stood up from behind his desk, if this agent was looking for a response, he just found one. “Not in my mountain, your not.” He said as he reached for the intercom button. “Security, please intercept and escort Agent Worthington to the surface and have him listed as “persona non grata” from all entry lists and all gate entrances. Also, have the all Cheyenne watch commanders know of the changes. Any questions can be directed to this office. He is not welcome here.”



As Worthington walked down the hallway toward the elevator he ran into a non assuming figure in a flightsuit, Capt. Marshall was next to him and two very large security forces members were behind her. “This isn’t over, MacRae! Said Worthington, not seeing the guards. He raised his hand to point a finger at SPEC but instead got a very rude slap on the wrists…with handcuffs! “Sir, you are being put under apprehension, and are going to be escorted to the surface, by these fine young airmen.” Marshall spoke as the security personnel spun him around and did a cursory search on the agent. “We were briefed on the way here.” Worthington knew better than to struggle. SPECWAR leaned in close to Worthington’s face. “I have no respect for a man who can’t threaten me to my face, if you want a fight name the time and the place. Other than that, take a number and get in line!” “Don’t worry, I will!” Worthington yelled as he was forcibly put on the elevator to the surface. “I think I’m going to see more of him in the future.” Landry was standing the hallway just outside his office. “Well let’s hope not, I know that little creep has been a burr in your saddle blanket for some time now. You know you look completely different in uniform.” “I seem to get that a lot these days. It feels good.” As SPECWAR shook Landry’s hand. “Thanks for bringing me in out of the cold.” Landry shook his hand and said “Let’s meet your new CO.” As they stepped back into the conference room a bright flash of white light almost blinded him. The next moment he was staring out a viewing port looking back at the Earth. “Welcome to the USAFV BC304 USS Iliad, SPECWAR.” A voice came from behind them. “I’m Capt. Ackerson,they call me “Chief”, I’m the XO of the Iliad.” She said as stuck out her hand. “Former Tech Sergeant Will MacRae, callsign SPECWAR. Permission to come aboard.” As he reached for her hand. “We will have to see about getting you rank reinstated, but for now you can go by your callsign if you wish. Let’s get you briefed on our mission.” “You look like you’re in capable hands; we’re heading back to the SGC, good luck.” Said General Landry as he and Captain Marshall departed via the way they came, a bright flash of light!



As they sat and talked, SPECWAR took all this information in, almost all of it seemed right out of a Hollywood script. Area 51, aliens, intergalactic conflict, secret government agencies, all things secret squirrel and double secret hush-hush stuff, all the makings of a MGM production. “We chose you out of several hundred candidates for this mission, because of certain traits that you possess. Your desire, if you will. You have never refused a mission because of the odds, “Can’t never tried” was usually the answer you gave. I like that in an individual and that was your selling point; I like that in a person. That’s why I chose you. We took the liberty to have some of your things brought here, to make your stay and the mission easier on you.” She said as she pushed away from the table. “Lets get you settled, oh, by the way your friend Jenkins sent you a package. It’s in you quarters.” She led him to his quarters to unload his gear. “Mess is at 1730 hours, don’t be late, or we’ll have to send the ferrets out after you.” She shut the door behind him. “Ferrets?” He had to think on that. On his bunk was a small box, addressed to him from Ken Jenkins. Inside was a neatly folded, paper wrapped object. It was soft. Inside was a Chilkat Yaakosge’ X’o’ow blanket, the Blanket of Knowledge. These blankets were a treasured and cherished gift, and this particular one had a special meaning behind it. As he held the blanket out and saw the Native Alaskan designs on it, he peered out the of the bulkhead port on to an ocean of stars, pondering of what was to come next. The letter was from Ken and his daughter Melissa.



Hey SPEC,

You know I’m not the sentimental type but your considered a part of the Jenkins clan, and considering the adventure your about to go on, me and Melissa thought it was appropriate. I got the blanket for her when she entered college. She thought you might need it more, had something to do with an old T’lingit or Haida legend, I never could tell the difference like you or her could. Too bad for you, you’re going to miss the State fair, the Fur Rendezvous, and the Iditarod this next spring. Remember what you taught in school; “Being misplaced means that you’ll find your way home, being lost means you’ll never be found.” See ya on the way back around. Funny how the universe works.

Your buddy,

Ken

P.S. Bring us back something shiny!
Will "SPECWAR" Gomer
Security and CSAR/SERE Specialist
CO "Charlie" Team, SG-22
USAFV BC304 USS Iliad
SGC
SG-Operations: The Home Base of SGC & SG-SOCOM

"Can't Never Tried!" Bill Gomer
"I remember when NASA was four drunk pilots....And a case of dynamite!"
<<

shifty

User avatar

1st Lieutenant
1st Lieutenant

Posts: 1439

Joined: Thu Oct 28, 2010 3:08 am

Location: Australia

Post Mon Mar 28, 2011 8:03 pm

Re: Out from the Cold. The SPECWAR story.

A great read mate!!
NAME:Rob Antilles
CALLSIGN:Shifty
RANK:CAPT
ASSIGNMENT:Atlantis
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Member of SG-7 (Australia)
<<

SPECWAR

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Airman First Class
Airman First Class

Posts: 181

Joined: Fri Nov 05, 2010 9:16 pm

Location: Las Vegas, NV

Post Mon Mar 28, 2011 10:20 pm

Re: Out from the Cold. The SPECWAR story.

Thanks, Shifty. That means a lot, especially from the other side of the world!
Will "SPECWAR" Gomer
Security and CSAR/SERE Specialist
CO "Charlie" Team, SG-22
USAFV BC304 USS Iliad
SGC
SG-Operations: The Home Base of SGC & SG-SOCOM

"Can't Never Tried!" Bill Gomer
"I remember when NASA was four drunk pilots....And a case of dynamite!"
<<

Lt.Ackerson

User avatar

Lieutenant - USN
Lieutenant - USN

Posts: 480

Joined: Sat Sep 01, 2007 9:12 pm

Location: Manassas, VA, USA

Post Tue Mar 29, 2011 1:40 am

Re: Out from the Cold. The SPECWAR story.

It's a great read... Let me know what you think of the "Journal".
Sean "Nightstick" Ackerson
Lieutenant USN Iliad Flight ops CAG
VXS-223 "Ghost Hawks" Leader
SGC
SG-Operations: The Home Base of SGC & SG-SOCOM
Saddle up, lock and load.
LT Stoddard USN (on )
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