Personal Narrative: The Whiskey Team

“This is Charlie 3589. We got a patrol moving one click south from your position, Whiskey Team,” said command. “Copy that, command. We got about 30 men guarding a MIG scanning the skies. I advise you raise the drone’s altitude about 2,000 feet to avoid detection,” responded Whiskey Team. “Copy that,” replied command. “You’re getting too close to their camp,” informed command, “We are ordering radio silence.” The sergeant passed on the order to his men. He commanded, “From this point on, I want no chatter. Radios silent. You be silent. This is an order.” The Navy Seals of Whiskey Team kept moving stealthily on foot. Their orders are to investigate a transport truck. Command ordered the investigation because of intercepted
“Hey, Lieutenant, where are you from?” asked Private Williams. “Nebraska,” answered Lieutenant Bradford. “Jump!” The unit parachuted down in Panama, just two clicks to from the compound where the gear was manufactured. They quickly reached the factory, cut through the barbed wire fences, and silently took down a few guards before they reached the main office. They reached the door outside the main office. “Corporal, check your magnetic goggles,” ordered Bradford. The corporal will do that to detect metal and other solid substances inside the room. “Sir, we got two guards with AK47s and our target armed with a Makarov pistol,” said Johnson. “Place the charge,” ordered Bradford. The small explosion blew the door open. Johnson and Williams dropped the two guards while Bradford tackled the target against the wall and threw him down on the ground. Their mission is to interrogate the target. He is the head of the manufacturing facility. Johnson put him at gunpoint. “Who ordered your supplies and where is he?” yelled Bradford. The man cringed at Bradford’s voice. He was obviously afraid and quickly replied, stuttering, “His name is Nowak