Fifty-Two Hours

Immediately after the final words during the party, the US ambassador was horridly moved out of the building to be escorted back to the embassy not three miles away. Sergeant Randall and the other Rangers soon fell out to their assigned vehicles after a short rendouvouz called by Captain Thompson. After a short debrief about the statements made by the ambassador the twenty-seven Rangers spilt off into three groups of seven and one group of six.

Walking alongside Lieutenant Patterson, Randall engaged in light talk with the officer as they walked to the vehicle, they would be taking back to the US embassy. Though in a calm environment it was imperative for every solider and Marine that participated in the event to disappear due to an intelligence report of unknown persons of interests moving to investigate the aftermath of the party.

"I'm telling you man we are fucked if this thing goes south. Fuckers didn't even let us have the option to conceal carry pistols." Patterson voiced his complaints as he opened the door and let himself inside the vehicle.

"He didn't tell us directly, but SECDEF basically told us that we can't risk a hostile confrontation with the Pakistani's. There's too much riding on this for it to be ruined by one guy not authorized to carry a weapon." Randall explained as he followed up and claimed inside the vehicle.

"Yeah. Still makes me wonder why the hell we support NATO in the first place even though we left the organization." Patterson scoffed as the DS agents took their respective seats in the driver and front passenger seats. "This whole shit show is a domestic problem for Pakistan, not an international one."

"Operation Night wing Lieutenant. You remember that?" Captain Thompson said silencing the two Rangers. "That mission in Zambia still keeps me up at night so shut it would you?"

"Yes sir." Patterson meekly said as the DS agent finally got the word to move from the building.

"Element one, five is on the move to the embassy." The DS agent said into the radio on his vest.

With the other agent taking out a data-pad and keeping watch on the city through a nose camera on a Black Hornet Nano drone.

The lead vehicle in the convoy moved down the street and soon they too lurched forward as the car began to move.

As they moved at a snail's pace towards the main gate guarding the building they had gathered in not five hours ago grew closer, the DS agent in the front passenger seat cracked open the window which provided him an opportunity to retrieve the miniscule drone.

With the gray-black surveillance drone being placed into a small compartment on the agent's belt, Patterson let out a light whistle as he spoke his mind, "Hard to believe that thing has been in service since 2015. Wonder why they didn't bother upgrading to the Owl that the British use?"

"Unlike most of Britain, we use drones to survey more open urban combat areas, and besides, only Special Operations uses it. MARSOC and the others you know?" In the back the tech wiz of the squadron, Private First Class Jacob Green hummed as he stared at the roof with a blank expression. "For all we know the Pakistani's could've been using them to watch us the entire time during the party."

With the statement that Green made in the air, everyone quieted down other than the two DS agents who kept in communication with the other vehicles. Randall rested his head on the seat as the night lights of the city of Islamabad, the capital of Pakistan, rolled by in an almost hypnotizing way.

"Nah they wouldn't do that. They're asking us for help after all." Patterson rebutted, shifting in his seat uncomfortably, "If the President bothered to launch a surveillance operation to monitor us even after we left the venue, our people would've spotted it and the meeting would've been called off. There is a reason why the media wasn't being allowed past the gates after all."

"I think you're putting too much faith in our intelligence agencies." Corporal Ramirez remarked, gaining a light laugh from even the DS agents.

"Alright that's enough. Let's not get riled up in here before we get back to the embassy." Captain Thompson said with a big toothy smile.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence. All six passengers were tired from not just the last twenty-four hours, but the extensive time they had spent in the middle east for the last week.

Fatigue had finally set in, and Sergeant Hermann was looking forward to crashing into a pristine white bed in the barracks back at the base just outside of Mumbai, India. As the return to the American embassy slowed due to a traffic accident on one of the major roads, a light rain began to fall from the clouds causing frustration amongst the drivers. Though, with the determination of the DS agents and the escorts to return as soon as possible, they persevered through the mess and arrived at the building within fifteen minutes.

Gaining clearance by the Marines stationed at the gate, the five-vehicle convoy pulled inside the expansive garage below the building and pulled off to the side entrance leading to ground level where the Rangers would soon be debriefed about their participation in the event.

Exiting the car and promptly flattening and fixing the formal shirt he wore, Randall waited for the others to exit the vehicles and soon followed them and their escorts to a conference room on the second floor. There Lieutenant General Nicholas Hoover waited for them at the head of the table.

One by one the twenty-seven Rangers took a seat at the empty seats, three DS agents stepped in along with five embassy staff and aligned themselves along the glass walls of the conference room.

Placing his tan beret on the table and keeping his nerves down, Randall and the others waited patiently for the Lieutenant General to start. Once clearing his throat, the seasoned old man began the debrief.

"Gentlemen." He began, "As we begin the debrief, I want to offer my condolences to the three loses your platoon has obtained during the terrorist attack two months ago in Germany, I have never those three, but I can assure you that they and their families will be taken care of."

An uncomfortable aura grew between the men. Captain Thompson began to sweat as his face turned slightly pale and the others exchanged worrying glances between each other. Not wanting to dwell on past feelings, Hoover continued after taking a light breath.

"Your participation in the critical meeting between the Pakistani government and our own has laid the foundations for not only increased trade, but also a possible future between India and Pakistan. Not only will this be monumental, but also our 'adversaries' will have a harder time influencing the continent... Just for clarification on the declaration that the ambassador made at the party, you will all be transferred back to India and will be joining SOF in a joint operation to perform a capture-kill order on a high value target. More details will come in the following months, dismissed."

Silence enveloped the room as the Lieutenant General speedily left the room off to do some unknown task. With the impromptu and oddly short debrief completed, the majority of the Rangers and others exited the room leaving only Lieutenant Patterson in the room along with Randall.

Going off their schedule the men still had another hour before they were to depart to a nearby airfield to fly back to India, so Randall mulled over his options as he attempted to avoid the ever persistent and curious gaze of the Lieutenant across from him.

Contemplating his options, he eventually found himself mulling over the hunger pain that had presented itself seemingly out of nowhere. Choosing to stave of his hunger, he proposed the idea for him and Patterson to make a quick visit to the kitchen on the first floor. In a similar state, the Lieutenant happily accepted and the two swiftly moved to the kitchen in the hopes of not being caught by their Captain.

As they entered the kitchen, the midnight light of the moon beamed and illuminated the dark room. After flipping the light switch located next to the door they entered, a warm flood of light came from the LED bulbs and gave a 'homely' feel for the two Rangers.

Opting to simply eat a blueberry muffin and to drink a black cup of coffee, Randall made his way over to Patterson who was munching on a pack of cookies he had found on one of the counters. As the two quietly munched on their respective source of sustenance, Randall quietly wondered what the staff of the embassy were currently doing. Were they ending their duties for the day? Or were they preparing statements for the public with the sudden success of the mission in the capital city?

Reclining in his seat and sipping on the piping hot coffee, the dark brown-hair sergeant bided his time as he let his mind wander while internally humming a familiar tune from the early 2000's and tapping his foot occasionally to the beat.

Watching the drops of water falling on the window and the moonlight being distorted by a small collection of rain clouds, Randall took a quiet breath and exhaled as he placed his cup down on the counter.

For the peace that presented itself, it was a comforting time that he silently wished lasted for the rest of his life.

"Hey-uh, Randall. You still talk to your family?"

Turning away from the window, Randall turned his attention back to Patterson who was sipping on a small cup of water while messing with his short-cut hair. His eyes seemed to be sunken in, no doubt from the countless sleepless nights he has had within the last year.

"On occasion. Just the occasional call or video conference with my immediate family. Other than that, we've kind grew apart naturally."

"Lucky bastard." Patterson sighed as he began to drum his fingers against the table, "I don't have the opportunity to contact them too often. For me, I just send a brief text every once in a while, to let them know that I'm alive."

"Right, right. Let's ignore that you are socially inept." Randall paused. "Though I suppose that you can hold a decent conversation."

Telling off Randall, Patterson let out a light chuckle as they returned to mundane talk about their lives. They didn't have one particular topic they stayed on, most of it just being inquiries about some previous experience they had in the army or high school. From time to time, they chided each other when it came to the topic of romance, but being in good faith, the remarks didn't go far enough to be noteworthy.

Eventually the two returned to silence. Only the humming of the lightbulbs above, and the patter of the rain slamming against the window provided any sense of reality.

Glancing in curiosity, Randall took a moment to study the Lieutenant's appearance. On a basic overview he was a healthy twenty-three-year-old male who was to be monitored for any problems during his tenure as a US Army Ranger, but there were things that even doctors and medics overlooked when preforming examinations.

A single scar began from Patterson's palm and stretched up his arm, finally ending at his shoulder. What caused this was a sharp of shrapnel that cut his arm when they were assisting EOD personnel in blowing ammo dumps in the middle of south-east Asia. His eyes were sunken, and rings faintly painted his face due to the countless sleepless nights.

The only problem was that Randall had a difficult time figuring out what his friend had turned into. Gone was the boy only one year younger, and now there was something else that reminded him of one of the many nightmares he had during boot camp.

Perhaps he was the one to change. Yet, he wouldn't know as Patterson's voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"So... What now? Should we get ready to go? We only have another twenty minutes." The Lieutenant inquired as he checked his wristwatch. "Don't want the captain to get on our asses for being away from the squadron for a whole hour."

Glancing once more outside, Randall contemplated his options as the night lights of the capital city lite up the streets. "I suppose we can. After all we'll be back in India before coming back here." He paused before agreeing with the statement Patterson made earlier, "Yep. Don't want to get caught eating muffins, so I think it'll be good to get back before he notices."

As they both got up from their seats, Patterson let out a light groan as he clasped his hands together and leaned backwards to stretch his back, while Randall simply dragged a hand through his coarse hair to straighten it out. With the caffeine in his system, oddly enough Randall felt more tired. It had always been a side effect for him, and he would be no doubt trying to catch some shut eye on the trip back to India.

"Let me just say that this will be something else." Patterson said as he patted Randall on the back. "Last time something happened like this was in the early 2000's. Don't suppose that it will go well this time around?" He asked with a tired look.

Brushing off his hand, Randall made his way to the door, "If we play our cards right this thing should be over within a few months, possibly a year."

With a defeated face Patterson said "Yeah." While following the sergeant towards the elevator on the first floor. "Still, something else is making feel off. I just can't put it into words."

"Whatever it is, we'll make it work. That's why we're soldiers after all, right?" Randall asked while keeping his eyes away from the Lieutenant. Though he wasn't looking at him, he could feel the officer's confusion and frustration towards the comment he made, "-Either way it would be best for us to get back. The operation won't start for another day or so."

"Right..."

As their footsteps echoed throughout the now seemingly empty building, a low humming noise came from Patterson's pocket. Stopping in the middle of the hallway and turning around, Randall was perplexed as he watched the other Ranger take out his cell phone.

"It's the Captain." Patterson said while showing the caller ID.

"Shit-answer it."

Brushing his thumb over the answer button and placing the phone next to his ear, the Lieutenant answered the call with just as a perplexed expression that Randall had.

"Hello?"

Randall watched as the Lieutenant's right eyebrow raised and his face scrunched in what looked to be anger.

"Captain what do you mean by-"

"-The call already came in. Sir, we're no where near ready for an immediate-"

Patterson failed to finish his sentence as the person on the other side cut him off. His face turned slightly pale and his body relaxed to a more normal position. Randall looked him in his black iris and made a gesture questioning what was being told.

"Of course, sir. Goodbye." Patterson lowered the phone and brought his left face to massage his forehead. Randall failed to choke out the words to ask what was said over the phone, but even as he tried to raise his voice to make any sort of sound, he soon found himself facing a flat palm from Patterson's left hand.

"We need to go." He simply ordered.

Publicly Available Information: 75th Ranger Regiment:

Called "Rangers", these soldiers apart of the United States Army created in the year 1974, is the premier special operation forces light infantry fighting force. These soldiers specialize in direct action missions and joint forcible entry operations both in front and behind enemy lines.

Though as of late their status as the "most premier" has come into question after the events of 2098 in South Africa.