"Special Forces, this is the Air Force, point us in the direction of the bad guys and we'll take it from there." Decard asked for the coordinates of the enemy headquarters. The Special Operations team was a joint-outfit consisting of members of the Emmerian and Nordennavic military. They were the best both countries had to offer, but even the best need an extra bang to finish the job. That's where they came in.

"Lieutenant, anti-air fire's going to light up the sky. Hope you learned to dance back at school." He smiled as he doubled his speed and raced past Folmon towards the objective. He wanted to fly by, get a picture of where the target was and how fortified it was and relay the information to Folmon.

The Forward Air Controller element of the team began to stream the precise location of the headquarters to the computers on board the two fighter jets. Since they weren't speaking over the radio, Decard assumed that the situation has either escalated on the ground or that they wanted to limit radio chatter. He prayed, among all the others dying on the battlefield, that the operators were safe.

The rebel flak guns shot off a few rounds but thanks to some fancy flying, or flying that he would like to assume was fancy, they weren't a big threat. He was more scared of the scattered ground-to-air missile launchers that had been reported in the air.

"It's uh.. a large blue-ish building. Six-seven stories, sandbags, the works. You can't miss it!"