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Captain Reginald, or Reggie as his squad called him, panted with exertion. His men were forced to dismount while pursuing an anomalous aggressor. Now slogging through the Rocky Mountains he found himself pushed to keep the pace in a running engagement. He had only been deployed on domestic soil once before, also under similar circumstances against something hostile that he still did not understand. This time was no different, bizarre insurgents, stranger weapons, and a stolen asset of unknown description. The only order his detail had was to get the grey metal sided case back.

His satellite radio squealed to life. “Arrow Actual this Arrow Control, you are approaching Valewood Eyrie Security Cordon. Valewood security will respond if the target breaches cordon. Valewood confirms tracking on target." The rest of the operational message was lost in a roar of bullets and splattering of some iridescent and explosive substance, ripping the tree he was behind. Reggie shouldered his rifle and returned a few measured shots only feeling the recoil while his ears rang.

When the sound cleared he continued to bark orders to his men, moving them through cover, ordering some to tend to the few that were wounded. Reggie's radio continued in the background. “Arrow Actual pull back you have breached the cordon, Valewood is responding to the target." He looked around, having just cleared an open area he realized he was in a position that would make complying very dangerous with how much resistance his men were facing. Nevermind the insanity of what for all purposes was a shooting war on home turf, that order was going to be bloody.

“Unable to comply Arrow Control. We are too heavily engaged. Forward element has visual on asset." Reggie replied as the exchange grew heated. “Then tell those elements and the rest of Arrow to get down and get clear." Reginald felt an icy ball form in his stomach. He thought at first he was going to have to deal with PMC's or some poorly disciplined security contractor. This was worse. He started to issue commands to his men directly and on a radio. His runner began to dash forward to make sure they had the order. “Arrow control we have …" Reggie tersely replied as he felt then heard it. Every hair stood up and a tingle of static washed over him as if he was near an imminent lightning strike. No such act of nature followed from the clear sky. At once every radio, tracker, and piece of electrical kit failed. Simple devices began to reset, others clearly were broken. A few radio powerpacks even caught fire. Captain Reginald expected an explosion from a missile, bomb, or other strike; what he got instead was a massive electromagnetic pulse.

Confused, Reginald began to try and organize his command and get them clear of whatever was going on now. Over the now eerily quiet woods came a sound that sounded like a falcon's cry dropping down into a roar like a lion or other great cat. Then there were screams, human screams. His men and women responded as professional soldiers were expected, disengaging and moving back in a cautious and orderly fashion. Their foes no longer fired at them. The ridge ahead where his forward element was still had not responded. From around the ridge the sounds of gunfire, shatting trees, and strange animal calls barely drowned out a few cries of panicked humans. Having reestablished some semblance of order with his force, Reggie and his troop began to make for the ridge.They came to a stop as people began to crest the ridge. Combatants were running downhill from the other side of the ridge, unthinking and routed by whatever awaited Reggie on the other side. The encounter was a brief meeting engagement and only slowed the advance for a few minutes. Legs burned as they climbed, now resisted only by gravity and unhindered by battle. While on the move the group worked to get their communications gear working once more. Profanity laced tirades strode next to controlled and terse recitations of operating procedure as Reggie was handed a working radio link. “Arrow Actual, this is Arrow Control. Valewood Eyrie personele have left the area and report all clear. You are free to retrieve the asset and signal for pick up."

Nearing the crest he slowed and took in what lay before him. Reggie was unsure what bothered him more, the strange cries and roars, explosions, and bizzare weapons or the silence that now hung over the forest. In the stillness he could look down at a few smoking craters in the trees, several new gaps in the foliage from felled trunks, and a single orange smoke grenade spewing in a clearing.

What the hell did this Valewood Eyrie place send down?

Approaching the clearing with the smoke signal Reginal's troop started to spot the downed insurgents. Some were crumpled, bones broken from some severe impact, others had limbs shorn. They paused as many showed signs of having been raked or punctured with massive claws, ballistic body armor not intended for such things, even ballistic plates pierced and shattered as if chalk. Some were thrown onto shattered tree limbs as if they wronged a Wallachian king or found a shrike's larder. Trees had scars from bullet impacts, brass littered the ground in places. Some of the weapons had been destroyed. The slavic rifles bent in half, some even split as if shoved into a giant bolt cutter. Entering the clearing Reggie saw what remained of his forward element… Of the five men, only two remained. One had a puncture from a splintered shard of wood and was in shock. The other, a sergeant named Davidson was tending to the casualty. Nearby laid what looked like an octopus tentacle and rubbery bits of flesh. Other aberrant tissue lay smoldering around the clearing. The smoke grenade was set on top of the case they had pushed so hard for.

“Sarge… Is he?" Reginald queried. The NCO looked up at him and returned “Stable sir… needs med vac though." Reginald was aghast at the sights and smells around him. “What happened? There was a EMP and then we lost you." “Cap'n Reggie… He happened. Veilwood's security happened. I'm not sure what to say. It was violent. It was fast." Davidson trailed off as he went back to checking the tourniquet on the casualty. “How did they deploy so fast… where's their transport? Talk to me." the captain was growing worried for his own man. “I can't say sir. He put the asset there, marked it, and said he'd call for our pick up..." The taciturn sergeant gestured at the case and ended “ … and he cleared the AO. Said our boys could clean it." Sgt. Davidson said nothing more as the choppers came into view and began airlifting the men from the mountain forest.

Two weeks later Captain Reginald stared at the orders to reassign his NCO who had remained tight lipped the last fourteen days. When the outfit was debriefed, he was debriefed separately and only just now returned to barracks and was packing his things. Reginald stopped him. “I got your orders Davidson. They cut you a new MOS and detail." Davidson nodded. “Why? What's going on. This isn't like you Mike." Davidson looked up at the use of his first name from the usually formal officer. “They requested my assignment to some other liaison post. Said the director wanted me there, if I can handle him working I could handle him talking." “So you're getting benched to a desk? After 8 years, just going to ride it out now?" The irritated officer snapped. “No Cap'n, I'm expected to sit at a desk with a China Lake special under it. That's all I got, and all I know. I gotta catch my ride on time or it's my ass at the new post."

Captain Reginald shook his hand and left. He never could understand how a liaison job stateside could be that dangerous, or why they'd want an 6 year veteran of his anomalous response detail for the job. Merv appreciated the new liaison however. He was professional, able to take care of himself when visiting, understanding, and needed far less explanations than the last one.