The Drop

Fort Bragg, North Carolina was in the midst of another hot summer day. Anyone who could was sitting inside in front of air conditioners. Officers were catching up on paperwork that had accumulated during an exercise a week prior, and young enlisted men who had made 'errors in judgment' not serious enough to warrant an officer's attention, or strikes on their military record for that matter, were being run to exhaustion by annoyed NCO's.

In one of the many recreational areas on base, the Michael Fremont Recreational Hall, named in honor of an 82nd Airborne soldier killed in Vietnam, soldiers of 2nd platoon, Charlie Company, 1st Battalion, 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment of the 82nd Airborne Division were relishing the cool air and skipping through channels on the large wall mounted television.

The channel flipping stopped on a local new channel with a rather attractive news anchor, one who had become quite a favorite on base. As soon as her ample image appeared on screen a round of whistles blasted the room, practically drowning the young woman's shaky voice.

"In other news, reports of riots have just arrived from Atlanta, Georgia. This is the latest in a string of ongoing riots that have begun springing up in the last six hours. Information is still scarce but-" The newscaster was interrupted when a well-built soldier walked into the room and shut off the television.

Immediately the dozens of soldiers scattered about on the various couches and reclining chairs groaned in protest.

"Oh, come on Sergeant. We weren't watching Skinemax, what the hell?" Asked one of the men who was sprawled as far back as his recliner would allow.

"Shut up, Miller. Everybody on your feet. Armory. Now." Slowly everyone rose and followed Sergeant Willis out of the room and to the Armory where they found the rest of their battalion already standing in formation.

Inside the air conditioned building their Battalion Commander, Lieutenant Colonel Brian McKnight, stood in full combat gear, rifle and all. He was also wearing a MOPP suit with his hood in his free hand. A soldier strode up the Lieutenant Colonel and handed him a microphone which was connected to the building's PA system.

"By now I'm sure you've all heard about the riots currently taking place across the county. Local resources are being exhausted everywhere and the National Guard isn't quick enough on the draw so, at 1530 Zulu, the President has ordered troops into all major American cities." The men looked at each other in surprise.

"Our Battalion has been ordered to secure the Washington Monument and set up defensive positions around the White House as well as the Capitol Building. Alpha company will be securing the White House grounds, Bravo is charged with securing the Capitol, and Charlie will prepare defensive positions around the Washington Memorial."

More murmuring which was silenced when the Lieutenant Colonel raised his hand to signal for silence.

"I know this is strange. However, we have our orders and we will carry them out to the letter. We will be air dropped in the National Mall where we will rally and proceed on foot and appropriated civilian vehicles to our objectives. We will hold for 48 hours until elements of the Virginia National Guard roll in to relieve us."

The previous nervousness in the crowd was replaced by excitement. They were being air-dropped! Every paratrooper's dream, almost extinct in modern war, was being handed to them on a silver platter. It was a drop that ended in riot duty, but it was a drop. One to tell the grand kids about.

"C-130's from Pope Air Force Base are being prepped right now and will be ready in just under two hours. That is how long we have to prepare for the jump and load onto helicopters for ride to Pope. We don't have time to prepare our heavy equipment so we're only traveling with what we can carry and whatever is already packed for combat drops at Pope. Full combat loads, live ammunition, and MOPP gear are required. When we land we will immediately go to MOPP 4 until ordered otherwise. Any questions?"

Dead silence was the only reply. Even the loud overhead air conditioners had shut off. Lieutenant Colonel McKnight nodded. "Dismissed."

Immediately Platoon and Company commanders began issuing orders. Clerks began handing out parachute harnesses, ammunition, weapons, MOPP suits, body armor, and everything else the soldiers would need. Organized chaos described the situation well.

Normally units had up to a full day or more before a drop to prepare, check, recheck, and recheck again all their equipment, not to mention load supplies and vehicles on air-dropped pallets, but doing so in under two hours increased pressure by orders of magnitude.

2nd Lieutenant Hank Jacobs, 2nd Platoon's commanding officer, walked through the area his men had taken as theirs and assisted, as well as inspected, their equipment. A single missed clamp or loose string would mean death for any man unfortunate enough to wear it. The long tables that were normally used for overflow from the Mess Hall were covered in digital camouflaged equipment and black weapons.

"Hey Sergeant, why are we wearing MOPP gear if we're doing riot duty?" Asked Specialist Jamie Kenworth to Sergeant Willis as he donned the heavy, hot over garment. The Sergeant just shook his head and continued loading magazines in his harness.

Eventually, two and a half hours later, the paratroopers stepped off large Chinook helicopters and walked into the hulking cargo aircraft. Wind from the immense propellers threw loose debris dirt everywhere. Among them, was Corporal Danny Blaylock. He filed on board the plane and crammed himself onto a bench to wait for the hour long flight to DC.

Everyone around him was silent. Tension was thick in the air as everyone contemplated what was waiting for them on the ground. Outside the windows of the planes they could see some of the other planes in the massive formation of Super Hercules cargo planes.

Below them the scenic Virginia countryside was juxtaposed against the massive cargo planes filled with heavily armed paratroopers.

Finally the Jump Master gave the signal for everyone to stand and attach their harnesses to the static line, the line that would deploy their parachutes for them after they jumped.

All the paratroopers did one final check on the equipment of the man in front of them. This was it. Game time. Any mistakes made up to this point were about to come up and bite someone in the ass. Years of training for this on moment.

The red jump light came on and the ramp was lowered. The roar of the wind deafened everyone inside as they moved closer to the ramp. The Jump Master moved to stand right beside the still-red light.

Outside through their limited view they could see Washington, D.C. below. Thick columns of smoke were rising into the sky. The signal for one minute was given and everyone moved to their final jump positions.

Finally the light turned green. Instead of a stampede like most people expect, its a very orderly, precise, rhythm made necessary by the fact that almost a hundred men are jumping out of a plane as close together as they can. Danny slowly advanced towards the empty air as the paratroopers in front of him jumped. He was fifth in line and it was quickly his turn to jump. His training took over and he hurled himself out of the plane without hesitation.

The city was burning. The few smoke columns he had seen earlier now composed almost the entire sky. Fires raged uncontrolled all over the city. Even from almost a thousand feet in the air he could already hear gunfire from all across the city.

Okay guys tell me what you think. This is my latest attempt at a military-oriented zombie story. Regardless of whether or not I am able to complete this story I hope it inspires someone else to continue to try to bridge this massive gap in Zombie fiction. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think.