The Patrol

"I have a very particular mission, for you and your platoon," The Colonel peered at Richard, a look that was not lost on him,

"It must be serious," Richard stood up and walked to the cabinet, loaded with bottles of Red Label Whiskey, "Drink?" The Colonel accepted the offer,

"Is serious, an army depot was hit hard by someone. Someone described by the lone survivor, as an army of 'ghosts!" The Colonel pulled open his battered leather attaché case and fished out a map of the region. Bringing the drinks to the low table, Richard inspected the map, seeing the red circled depot,

"That's very near the border, isn't it? Was the government considering a little war with Sudan or was this an ammo dump for their pet warlord, Mengistu?" Richard looked at the Colonel who drained the glass in a single swig,

"It was an army training ground, and it was blown off the map?" The Colonel looked at the map, " The government are rightly concerned,"

"That region has been under the government's iron fist, hasn't it? The native population are not happy with the government and have been fighting back?" Richard knew his facts were solid,

"Yes, and the training ground had personnel to police the area, but then the 'ghosts' came!" The Colonel admitted,

"It's going to cost you. The hike is two weeks from here on foot! Not to mention the proximity to the border, If we do find these 'ghosts' of yours, we have a long walk home!" Richard paused, and the colonel waded in,

"I am authorised to double your pay, arrange a parachute drop for you and your people and when you signal on the new UHF set, I have for you, you will cross the border to a private landing strip, where your transport will be waiting for you, feigning engine trouble, is that acceptable?" He pointed to a canvas-cased radio set, which Richard had ignored,

"I'm not mad about parachuting, but the paratrooper brothers will be thrilled. I will put it to my men, we'll need a weapon upgrade too. American M16s and a light machine gun at least. Patrick, my sergeant will also insist on a light mortar and a case of the best Irish whiskey!" Richard smiled,

"Agreed! You leave tomorrow. Shall I send some fresh girls to your room?" The Colonel stood, and made for the door,

"Yes, I think I tired out the other two whores, so send them in!" Richard smiled. After half an hour, there was a tap on his door and two more native Congolese girls walked into the room, each dressed in panties and a bra set,

"We come now?" The taller ebony asked, she was slender with high pert breasts and an experienced smile. Her partner was shorter and rounder with medium breasts but a round ass that pulled at the tight lacy panties,

"On yes my dear, I think you must be the 'B' team?" He smiled and watched them close the door, and walk over to the bed, awkwardly stripping off their underwear. The shorter girl shook her head,

"Oh no, we are the 'A' team. Come and see!" Her tone was a challenge, which he was happy to accept.

Three days later, the loud propeller-powered cargo plane was descending to 3,000 feet, and the team shuffled along the bench seats, checking their release gear on their cutes. The Irish sergeant grumbled again but the brothers stood up cheerfully,

"It's been ages since we jumped, and this time there's no danger of being killed!" They opened the sliding door of the fuselage and looked up at the indicator light, waiting for the green bulb to flash,

"We send the equipment canister after the last jumper?" The Sergeant confirmed and Richard nodded. The plan lurched again, losing more height and then all was movement and haste as the green light flashed,

"Geronimo!" The brothers shouted leaping into the blue-black pre-dawn darkness, followed by the platoon and their equipment in plumes of white silk and nylon canopies.

Once on the ground, the parachute dispersal routines were underway, and the canister was retrieved. The latch snapped open and in the creeping dawn's light illuminated the weapons cache. Once each man was armed, they began to move. The Frenchmen, on point, as usual, were armed with their M16s and a long-barrelled US marine sniper's weapon. The rest of the platoon hefted their loads and moved with practised ease through the dawn's light towards their rendezvous with their point men. After nearly four hours, the platoon settled in the bush, looking at the empty fenced army camp with multiple binoculars. The camp was burned and blackened, with its gates open.

"il est abandonné!" The Frenchmen confirmed and the team made its way into the camp. After a cursory search, the baffling discoveries were reported. Patrick, the Irish Sergeant shrugged,

"The arsenal has been destroyed and no weapons taken as far I can tell! Ammunition canisters all full and drenched in paraffin, you can still smell it!" He was dumbfounded, "This is not the work of African Warlords after weapons. There was enough here to arm a nation! There's something not right here!"

"Our Rebel friend here is right, " One of the brothers chimed in, " The food in the pantries was gone through, but the bodies were all buried in a long shallow grave, but I don't think all of the camps are buried! There was more than a half brigade stationed here and think most escaped across the There's brass scattered all over, they died fighting something!"

"This damn peculiar! Okay, do we have a " He looked at the silent Frenchmen,

"Oui, Allez!" The men loped off and the platoon followed.

After bivouacking overnight, they continued to track the attackers and soon enough, the scouting revealed a large village, unmarked on any map. The Frenchmen reported back,

"Un grand village, avec un puits et un mur de palissade !" Their tone was suspicious,

"A palisade? What are we in the Middle Ages?" The Irish Sergeant muttered, "And a well? Who the hell digs for wells in this bloody country?",

"Patrick, I think there's more to the eye than a village in the brush!" Richard was unnerved, but his men were good, the best in fact, at discretionary warfare and he needed to lead them," He looked up at his scouts, "What do you suggest?"

"Nous infiltrons par l'est, et vous entrez par le sud et l'ouest. Marcel, prendra une position de Dieu!" The silent Frenchmen unrolled his ground sheet and took out the sniper's rifle,

"Oui!" Richard agreed with their infiltration plan and within twenty minutes, the trap was set. The Frenchmen had set their positions and then the platoon moved cautiously into the village. Everything seemed to be going perfectly, as the team gathered in the village centre. Each man took a village hut but found no one,

"Nothing!" The Sergeant muttered. As the group gathered again, the two Frenchmen joined them after another reconnoitre around the village,

"Personne n'est là!" They reported. Indeed the village had been inhabited but was now empty.

"We'll take a rest now, break out some rations and then conduct a search in an hour, let's make a brew! Sergeant, a moment of your time," The two men walked away from the group, who busied themselves with unpacking and making strong black coffee,

"I'm not happy with this!" The sergeant looked nervous,

"I am going to radio in and get us out of this!" Richard agreed.

From nowhere a voice called out, "I would suggest you all keep quiet still!"

The men stopped immediately and grabbed their guns, Richard held his hand, "Hold fast!"

"A good idea, Lieutenant. You are surrounded!" The voice continued,

"You will find that doesn't prevent us from firing back!" He called back,

"I realise you and your party are quite special; regarding your resistance to bullets, as we too share the same affliction!" The voice continued,

"What do you mean?" Richard cocked his weapon and scanned the edges of the village, just as three figures emerged from the north of the village around the side of the hut,

"We are 'ghosts' just like you!" The figure in the centre continued to speak, flanked by two others. The Sun shone brightly behind them, making it hard to make them out. As they made their way closer, the team glanced at each other, through levelled weapons; the figures were women,

"Stay there!" Richard stepped forward and the three women complied, "What the hell is going on here?" His tone sharp and his anxiety rising by the moment,

"Lower your weapons, and we'll tell you," The tall woman in the centre of the trio.

In one of the huts, the platoon stood at one end, their weapons lowered but still ready. The tall woman, blonde and slender, dressed in an odd mix of fatigues and leather armour,

"First of all, I am Hilde, and this is Helge and Freya; we are the ghosts you have been sent to kill. We were forced to attack the army camp, as they were sending patrols into the village to rape and abuse the inhabitants and we could not stand by; so they were dispatched," She looked sternly, "Don't worry most were sent across the border, but some had to die, in payment for their crimes,"

"What do you want with us?" The Irish sergeant called out, lowering his M16, disliking the idea of shooting women,

"We need your particular talents, we cannot do without your help," Hilde answered,

"Pourquoi?" The silent Frenchman, Andre LeBeau, asked to the surprise of all his comrades,

"We are needed to fight an enemy that threatens not just this country but the world," She answered and then walked forward. The men lowered their weapons and from hidden panels, and trap doors, four other women appeared with weapons levelled at them,

Richard looked around, "Well if you know what will happen when your people open fire, we should talk!"

After agreeing to a truce, the women, all of the different races of the world, not unlike their ranks, from a native African to a fearsome Japanese woman, had the Frenchmen's full attention. Hilde and Helga, clearly the leaders asked the whole company to settle in the largest of the village huts and explained,

"We have been fighting for hundreds of years, Helga and I are Danish, Mariko is from the isles of Japan, Nima and Chali are African, Isolde is Irish and Lena is Spanish. We have been here for months, drawn by an urge, a calling, if you will" Hilde explained,

"We have had no such urge or call to come here," Richard explained,

"Well, you're here and we need all the help we can get," Helga interrupted,

"Can I ask why?" The Irish sergeant asked, offering Isolde a swig from his private store of whiskey, sloshing around his ware canister,

"Well, it is better to show you, there is a blackness in the sky, a tear and through it come horrible, terrible creatures that threaten the whole world," Helga looked visibly anxious,

"This is rather ridiculous; I can't believe all this talk of monsters!" William, one of the brothers chimed in,

"Really, would you like to see the wounds, I have taken from these creatures? Don't forget, we are like you. We don't die and yet look!" Helga stripped off her khaki jacket turned around and pulled up her green fatigue vest, displaying a long scar running across her taut belly, "See? We don't take wounds like others, do we?" She turned back around and dropped her vest,

"I'm sorry! "William looked shamefaced, " What creature does that?"

"They attack at night, demonic, bestial something from myth!" Helga tried to explain,

Richard called one of the Frenchmen over, "Describe it to Marcel, and he can draw it!" The two moved away to complete the drawing, but Richard and Hilde were now facing off,

"You want us to join up with you and kill these creatures? Why the hell should we? My job is to look after my men, not save the world!" Richard muttered,

"How long have you and men been fighting, fifty years? A hundred. I've been fighting since 976 AD and believed in nothing and no one except myself. Now, I have my family and my soldiers like you. But have you considered why we have been made to be unkillable? Are we cursed?"

"Possibly, but what you are saying is that these creatures could actually harm us, as they scarred Helga. Have you lost anyone in combat with these creatures?" The look on Hilde's face told him everything he needed to know,

"One, she was Magda, a sister to Helga. The creatures surprised us and tore her to pieces before we could get to her. Weapon fire slows them down, but we've found blades are more effective but that increases the risk of our own injury, and we don't heal from their claws" As she finished speaking, Marcel hurried back with a crumpled piece of paper with a rough sketch of a creature borne of nightmare,

"It looks like a hairy crocodile with legs like a dog!" Richard passed the paper around to his men,

"Let's assume we stay, when do these bloody things come out?" Richard had seen the faces of his men and knew that they would not turn their backs on fellow soldiers, and especially women,

"Every three or four days, a tear opens in the sky, and they fall out, we have learned to notice subtle changes in the atmosphere, and the temperature and can predict approximate area, where the tear might form. There was an attack three days ago, so we expect there to be an incursion tomorrow, will you help?"

"Of course, even if just to see these demons of yours, " he chuckled,

"Well, let us make you welcome for tomorrow we will be together in battle!" Helga joined in the gallows humour. The platoon was settled together in the large hut in the centre of the village. They shared their rations which they had brought with their new comrades. Soon, with Patrick's private stash of whiskey, the soldiers settled into various groups; the two Irish chatted in one corner, the Frenchmen were captivated with Mariko, and they shared their rations meticulously. Richard found himself sitting with Hilde, discussing tactics for the morning,

"So, it seems will should combine our forces, team up your soldiers with mine. It makes sense, as we don't what we are up against. I'm also somewhat concerned about the hand-to-hand combat, that you suggested was most effective against these demons of yours," He shrugged,

"I agree. We have some machetes that your people can use. We will conduct battle drills in the morning, to sharpen up your men, " She paused, " Do you have enough ammunition for your rifles?" Hilde asked, spooning a brown mash into her mouth. Richard regarded the woman, she was only an inch shorter than he, at 6'4'' and had clear Nordic features. Her body was toned and she had sky-blue eyes,

"Can I ask a personal question?" He asked, sipping on the black viscous coffee, that the team has brewed. Hilde looked directly at him, and smiled thinly,

"When did I first die? 1012 AD, an attack from Christian soldiers attempting to convert the region to Christ. My people had held onto their paganism and so were wiped out. Helga and Magda were my neighbour's daughters and so together, we made a stand and were shot with crossbow bolts. The village was put to the torch and we awoke to the smell of burning and our wounds were healed. We thought ourselves cursed and wandered from village to village until we were taken in by a scared grove community and we've been fighting ever since. When did you first die?" Their conversation was casual, despite the content,

"Agincourt 1415, killed by a French man at arms in the last minutes of the battle. I woke up, frightening a Frenchwoman who was gleaning the battlefield, amongst the corpses," He shrugged. They both knew the truth of their deaths, meaning that they couldn't return home and only found battlefields of the world, held some semblance of belonging.

"Did you ever marry?" She asked quietly, she glanced up at him, taking her cup from the duty floor,

"No," He confessed, "You?" He asked. She shook her head,

"This affliction means I cannot have children. I assume you knew?" She looked crookedly at him,

"Yes, I have not lived a monastic lifestyle, as you have no doubt imagined," He chuckled,

"Well, neither have I. Loneliness seems to be the curse we have to bear," he looked at Richard, " do you think that?" Her tone softened,

"I think that perhaps we were given these extended lives for some reason, perhaps your demons are that reason, but our loneliness is in some way preparing us," He shrugged, the words failed him,

" What you say sounds eminently plausible but I was referring to something else.." She set down her cup and looked up at him, "We might die tomorrow, and I don't want to spend this night alone," She sat her hand on Richard's leg, " Come with me, Richard,"

They both stood up and made their way out of the gut, the others in their conversations and barely noticed them leaving. Leading him by hand, they crossed the open ground to another village hut. As they entered, Richard saw a low bed had been arranged with thick blankets, with a small gas lamp burned on an upturned box. He turned to see Hilde, pull off her khaki vest top, revealing small, high breasts that were crowned with small hard, neat pink nipples. She smiled at him, as he also pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his fatigue pants and then finally kicked off his boots and then stood up. As he looked at her, Hilde was already naked, she stood with one hand across her breasts and one covering her sex,

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Richard smiled, his heartbeat picking up as he admired her figure,

"And how many women have you said that too?" She smiled back, as she looked at his growing erection

"Not a single one..." He walked over to her, took her hands away and then placed them around his waist, he looked at her and then leaned to kiss her. She accepted his lips and then felt his tongue probe her, and she kissed him hungrily. As they kissed, their hands explored each other's bodies. Richard took each breast, kissing and sucking on each nipple, savouring the sensation of the flesh stiffening. Hilde, meanwhile, had found Richard's thick erect cock and began to stroke it. The feeling of his stiff warm flesh against her belly excited her immensely and slipped a finger into her own hairy pussy and found a wet pulsating channel. Richard's attention was drawn to her side, and helping her down to the rough blanket bed, she split her legs wide and without hesitation began to lick at her delicate quivering folds; revelling in the scent of her pussy and rubbing his face against her pubic hair, pulling at it to heighten the sensations,

"Oh Richard, lick my cunny hole," Hilde pleaded, starved of such attention, she wanted his wet tongue to probe her deeply, to excite her and make her as wet as possible. Despite her long life, Hilde had only taken lovers before battle, as she expected to die. Of course, her male lovers were desperate soldiers also expecting to meet their end too, and often brief in their love-making, but now Richard, a man with centuries of life might be the one that could keep the thoughts of death and darkness away for one night.

End of Chapter Two