​Part IX – Kingdom Come
Babylon, Iraq
 
 
The heat, always the heat. Troy hated the sandbox as he not so affectionately called Iraq. When he stepped off the plane and his feet touched the concrete tarmac the wind, filled with granules of sand, smacked him against the side of the face causing his cheek to sting. He took it as Iraq’s way of saying screw you to him one more time.  Dammit, he thought, I’m back again. Curiously, his mind wandered back to Drexel where he grew up. The harsh climate of Iraq made him miss the quaint town and long for the days of his youth. Quickly he pushed those thoughts aside and walked with purpose a step behind the Colonel.

PART VIII – Loose Ends
32,000 feet
  
Troy climbed the stairs of the G450 but his feet felt like lead as multiple days without solid sleep started to take its toll. Standing at the top of the stairs Harry blocked the entrance into the sleek jet.
“Move it squirt,” barked Troy with a playful grin plastered on his face as he gave his medical sergeant a forceful shove with his carry-on bag.
Harry stumbled a little and turned around, “Sorry Cap, Sarge is yapping his trap and jamming the aisle.”
“I heard that,” hollered Terrance from inside the plane, “Don’t make me hurt you, boy.”

​     For me this year Christmas is a season of hope. You may ask, isn’t it always about hope? Not necessarily. The season can take on various meanings to us based on what happened during that year. Some years we may feel immense joy and express rejoicing as Christmas approaches. While other years are filled with unspeakable sadness and Christmas dredges up memories that lead to more pain. Other years are just “blah,” nothing too bad happened but nothing special either. I try to be an upbeat person but I’ve experienced various feelings and emotions around Christmas, not every year is festive.

​PART VII – Collision Course
Ghana
 
 
“Where are you?” inquired Sarge.
“Three minutes out,” responded the Colonel who answered on the first ring. “Did they make it out?”
“All hell just broke loose …” he replied followed by a long pause.
“And?”
“And, what do you think? It’s Cap we’re talking about here…”

PART VI – Sticks n’ Stones
Ghana
 
​
Troy and Sam walked out the front door of the luxurious Palm Bay Resort with their hands firmly clasped, smiles plastered across their faces. She leaned in close to Troy, her head touched his broad shoulders as they stopped at the circular driveway. The embodiment of a couple very much in love

PART V – Flee The Light
35,000 Feet/Ghana/Togo/McLean, VA
 
 
Once they left Camp Unity in Iraq, the Omega Group boarded the same private jet that ushered them into the country a few days’ prior with a destination of Paris, France. The six-hour flight time allowed the team ample opportunity to discuss the mission. They examined every last detail and created contingencies where needed. One of the reasons the Omega group achieved a high level of success directly correlated to their meticulous preparation. No one planned or thought outside the box and anticipated complications like them. It's what kept them alive when so many others would have faltered.

​     We The People will elect a new President of the United States on November 8th. In the last election, forty-five percent of eligible voters didn’t vote. That means 93 million voters did not exercise an essential right granted to them. Think what could occur if more people simply voted.

PART IV – Babylon Will Rise
Dukan Lake & Camp Unity, Iraq
 
Two black Mercedes SUV’s pulled up to the chain-link fence. No Trespassing signs peppered the slightly rusty barrier every few feet in Arabic. 
 
Sam looked to Troy, “You sure we’re at the right place?”
Troy nodded, “GPS, don’t lie,” he said as he touched the digital screen on the dashboard with his index finger.
“But there’s nothing here,” she said.
“You’ve just described most of this Godforsaken country in four words,” retorted Troy with a smirk.

​PART III – Back To The Sandbox
Northeastern Iraq
 
The music stopped and Troy’s ears were grateful. An hour straight of Rage Against the Machine was a bit much.
 
Troy turned around in the driver’s seat, “What’s next? My ears are ringing so maybe we can go somewhat lighter. We still have forty minutes till Dukan Lake.”
“You want some sissy music, a little Elton John maybe?” cracked the Jackal from the back seat.
“No, Sarge is in the other vehicle,” retorted Troy with a wide grin.
“Let the mademoiselle decide,” replied the Jackal.
“Whoa!” exclaimed Troy. “You’re letting the newbie pick songs already?”