The military men were not happy about the fact that they were still awake. It had been a grueling 36 hours of training and people were getting slow. Everyone was wet and cold and stressed. Two opposing groups were participating in the exercise, the soldiers from A and C companies of The Royal Gurkha Rifles (RGR) had staged themselves against two fireteams of irregulars. That is to say, about 450 men against 8. The two irregular teams had split up into 4 teams of two individuals to make the hunt more interesting. The two yank-brothers were together and a far bit ahead south of the pursuing RGR.
Rick was caring the 180 pound dummy that was their simulated “wounded comrade”. Utah was working point.
Rick pressed his two-way short range radio mike twice.
“Copy,” Utah whispered in answer.
“Buddy’s hemorrhaging again.” Rick whispered into the mike. The card deck of this game was stacked against the irregulars as their trauma manikins had tracking devices in them. Hemorrhaging was code that it was transmitting a signal.
Utah answered with two static clicks to his mike, and he hunkered down into a hollow. He searched the perimeter with his night scope to check for any close unfriendlies. A few seconds later, Rick slid in behind Utah and unceremoniously dumped the dummy and then dropped down beside it, totally out of breath.
“We need to stop playing by their rules big brother.” He said as he tried to catch his breath. “I really don’t want to run another 8 miles while the Colonel cheats and gets his giggles playing master of the Quorn fox hunt.”
“I agree,” Utah said as he leaned back against the muddy embankment and slams his fist into the trauma manikin to scramble the electronics again. “They stacked the deck in their favor, and you know they will boast that they are better than us. I say change the game.
Rick propped forwarded and slowed his breathing. “What do you have in mind?”
“You think the Colonel is out in the middle of this or home sleeping?”
Rick smiled, guessing what his brother was thinking. “Sleeping, you want to go after him?”
“Why not? His objected is to see how strong his security is and see if they can hunt us down. Our objective is to penetrate the base, rescue a prisoner,” he pointed his thumb back at the dummy. “And then evade getting caught. Let’s dump that damn dummy and go for something a little more animated. That should teach him how strong his security is at any rate.”
“So we booby-trap the dummy and then double back and get another one?”
“Take the Colonel while he has his pants down around his ankle.” Utah said as he pulled out two simulated IEDs.
Rick suppressed a laugh. “That will make us popular. What about the rest of the team?”
“Ah, let them run around and get some exercise. It will be good for the newbies.”
The two placed the first IED in an obvious location and then set a second hidden trap. Then they headed south. To avoid being seen by any thermal imaging as the “hunting” party passed them they went swimming across cold waters of Loch Migdale, humped the hill and dropped down onto the A949. There they were able to hitch a ride up to Carbisdale Castle Youth Hostel where they stashed their MILES gear (Multiple Integrated Laser Engagement System designed to detect laser pulses that determine if someone was 'hit' during training engagements), cleaned up and changed into some “borrowed” clothing. After the clean change they easily walked through the main gate of the RGR base. No one even asked to see their badges. Sure enough, the Colonel was home in bed. After cutting the phone line and setting the security alarm into a harmless feedback loop, the two walked unnoticed into the Coronel’s house, bagged the fat otter, and drove out in his own Mercedes with tinted window.
Interestingly, the Colonel took the whole this in stride and even enjoyed himself. He was writing notes like crazy and asked the brothers questions about what his RGR teams had done well and what obvious security issues they had found. The trip to Scotland had ended well with an added surprise bonus. Utah had stumbled on a classic Aston Martin DB5 Vantage Convertible and fallen head over heels for it. It was worse than when Utah fell in love for some dame. The car was all he would talk about. The owner didn’t know what he had and was trying to get rid of the old thing. He happy sold it for the insane prince of a 10 pound which was an absolute steal! Utah arranged to have it delivered to London and the money spending spree began to restore the rare car.
Dave, who had been mysteriously absent to go north for the training in Scotland, was back. He was at first especially itching to get his hands into the thick of things to fix up the Aston. Everyone was aware that Dave us up to some secretive activities and even though they pestered him about what it was, Dave wouldn’t talk about it. This really bothered Utah who in turned absolutely refused to let Dave touch his car. It was his baby and he was going to do it himself. Rick, like Utah was likewise annoyed with his little brother but let Dave help him on own car, the Maserati GT. Rick thought Utah’s outright rejection of any help from his youngest brothers was odd but he just thought Utah was being moody. However, a palpable tense was building between the brothers.
Dave ended up disappearing just two day before Barett returned from China with a story that they could hardly believe. Barett joined in the fun of vehicle modification by getting himself a huge covered trailer full of mechanical gear, a few BMW 1200cc Enduro, and a monster Mercedes Benz G55 AMG. Utah’s and Rick’s jaws just hit the ground. Barett hinted that he an outside sponsor to help him with setup expenses.
The three spend almost every waking minute fixing and fiddling with their cars; that and talking about women. One day Maria came by to visit them. She had dyed her hair black and was wearing a seductive one-piece dress of white with silver embroidering. After flirting with the three brothers and getting a grand tour of their work, she kissed Utah and Barett on the cheeks and then she and Rick went off to talk. She was leaving for a long mission and wanted to say goodbye.
After a few weeks the brothers were more or less done. Rick had his white Maserati. Utah’s Aston turned out to be a truly beautiful piece of seductive artwork, an absolute gem from its custom hand-stitched black suede leather dash, sleek forest green paint job, to its polished, and somewhat modified, V8 Volante Tadek Marek engine. Barett had heavily armored his Mercedes G55. He panted it black and added carbon fiber mirrors, vents in the fenders, and a larger front grill. He increased the engine performance to 750 hp, included new electronics, and re-engineered the transmission. The thing was beast of a power house.
