The War of the Americas - Rescue & Loss

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. While I do use some people from the real world as characters including the current president of the United States of America Donald Trump and the current president of Mexico Claudia Scheinbaum, what is said by them and/or about them is totally fictional and is in no way meant to suggest that is how they are in real life or what they believe in real life. The actions they do or do not take in the story are also of course totally made up. I have no idea how either would respond if this situation were to arise and my knowledge of the specifics of the politics of Mexico is very limited. My knowledge of the structure of their military, etc. is based on what is publicly available and may be less than accurate or completely wrong. I know exactly as much about the Mexican military as Wikipedia knows. Anything else I made up. I know nothing as to the existence or not of a Mexican intelligence apparatus let alone the level of sophistication if may or may not possess if it does in fact exist. Hopefully it is also obvious that I have no idea what the CIA’s assessment of the mental fitness of any world leader is, nor do I even know if they produce such an assessment. I also have no special knowledge of the CIA, its operations, policies, procedures, or history. In that way I am like 99.999% of all people on the planet. I also have no special knowledge of the Mexican cartels, their structure, leadership or political leanings outside of the little I have read in researching this story. Further, while the two main characters, Dominic and Sylvia Platt are (very) loosely based on my wife and myself there are more differences than similarities. To be clear my wife is not now, nor has she ever been an agent of the CIA or any other American or foreign intelligence agency. In fact, she has never been employed by any government agency, state or federal. While I have worked for the federal government very briefly (~1 year) as a fellow with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention I am also not currently employed by any government agency, foreign or domestic.

As the four Pavehawk choppers approached the ground the force from their swirling blades sent smoke, dirt, and debris flying in all directions. Sunlight glinted off the ashes making it appear as if they were landing in a maelstrom composed of millions of tiny diamonds. The roaring of the blades was so loud Dom could barely hear the crew chatter in his earpiece only making out a few bits from the pilot as he communicated his descent “1000 feet, 500 feet, 50 feet.” As they approached twenty-five feet the smoke cleared a little. In the distance he saw clearly the outline of a person, it was hazy at first, like a ghost. Slowly it began to materialize. Details became apparent. It was a woman; she was bleeding badly from multiple wounds across her bare arms and face. Her clothes had been torn to shreds and she was coated in a layer of grime so thick she looked for everything like a terra cotta warrior come to life. No, that wasn’t it. It was like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Predator, at the end of the movie when he cakes himself in mud to hide his body heat after he realizes that is how the Predator can see him even in the dark of night. As soon as the chopper came within five feet of the ground, he lept out racing toward the woman who he now recognized as his wife Sylvia. Five army Rangers disembarked immediately after him and quickly took up defensive positions ready to provide covering fire should any enemy fighters be in the area and choose to attack.

“Damn. Look at you Sarah Conner, or should I say Dutch Schaefer from the end of Predator. Bad ass.” She ran to him as fast as she could and he enveloped her in his arms holding her close as he continued to speak softly “It’s alright baby. We came to rescue you though I can see from your appearance you had things well in hand without us. Should we come back later when you are more presentable?” He joked and she laughed out loud in response. It was so nice to hear his voice and his corny jokes again. “I was expecting Kyle Reese, but I suppose you will have to do.” And he laughed at that, smiling broadly. As they both turned back toward the waiting chopper Dom heard Agent Smith in his earpiece, “Move love birds your reunion can wait until we get out of enemy territory.” “Yes sir agent Smith. We are on our way.” “What was that babe?” Sylvia asked inquisitively. “Nothing. Now. Get to the chopper.” And he laughed and smiled again. “Damn. I have always wanted to get to say that. Nice. I love you babe.” She looked at him and smiled, feeling her heart warm and her body gain strength from those words and the genuine feeling behind them. “I love you too Dom. So much. Thank you for coming to get me.” He smiled at that and laughed. “Anytime babe. Now go. We’ll be home soon.” He pointed at the nearest helicopter and Sylvia ran as fast as she could, leaping through the open door. As soon as she was safely inside, she turned expecting Dom to be right behind her, but at the last moment he was turned away and sent to another chopper as they could fit no more passengers. She saw him jump up and in just as the doors on both choppers slammed shut and they began to rise as quickly as possible into the air. She had been given a headset and helmet immediately upon boarding and could hear the pilots chatter over the noise of the engines, just barely audible. “Two hundred feet, three hundred feet.” She peered out the window toward the rapidly retreating ground and saw all four choppers including the one with Dom rising slowly, too slowly into the sky. She could see him peering through his window looking right at her. I love you he mouthed one more time. Suddenly from below she saw what looked like snakes of fire erupting from the tree line. At least ten, maybe fifteen. Sylvia’s earpiece erupted in chatter. “Enemy contact. We are under fire. Deploy counter measures and take evasive action.” She heard a whirring sound as the chopper let loose its chafe and banked hard right at full speed. The engines almost stalled and she was thrown against the far wall. She felt her right elbow pop and almost passed out from the pain. “Heat seekers, shoulder mounted, SAMs. We are under heavy fire. Request support.” Five seconds later a sound like thunder from above as the circling AC-130 gunship let loose with its GAU-12 Equalizer. The Equalizer is a massive, five barrel, 25mm gatling gun, capable of firing an astonishing 1800 rounds per minute. As the barrels turned, they rained death upon the earth below, tearing the forest, and any enemy soldiers in the area to pieces in the process. Sylvia managed to find the window again just in time to see Dom’s chopper about 100 yards away also banking hard. Before it could complete the maneuver, she watched in horror as two SAMs slammed into it. They were both direct hits and the chopper exploded in a ball of fire, rotors turning and twisting then flying off as it went spinning down, smoke trailing behind it, completely out of control. It crashed into the ground at high speed and then exploded again. “No, Dom.” Sylvia screamed. Tears running down her face. “No. No. Dom. No.” One of the rangers had grabbed her and held her close, trying to protect her obviously badly damaged arm. She flailed against him, screaming, out of control, trying to tear into him, trying desperately to get away. He held tight and whispered in her ear. “Mrs. Platt. Please. Mrs. Platt. We need to get you home. Please. This is not helping. Please.” His pleading voice and the reassuring tone he took broke through her madness, and she slumped over then passed out from exhaustion and loss of blood. She remembered no more as the pave hawk turned north heading back toward the United States with what remained of the rescue party and the few surviving US citizens that had escaped with Sylvia from the Mexican prison the night before.