“Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house, we're born
Into this world were thrown”
The radio droned on as flight crews made their final preparation to ride the lighting into Dhéǵhōm. Meanwhile I just sat back and mindlessly checked my gear one last time while trying to get comfortable in the heavy humidity. I sat there watching the storm slowly approaching and there was an air of slight anxiety that always came when it got close to launch time. Looking over the swarth of passengers I cracked a shit eating grin “Lots of new bloods” I said to myself. 
You could tell who was new and who was experienced from what they were doing and how they composed themselves. The new guys were the ones talking and drinking amongst themselves, some of them even taking their drugs, anything to keep the nerves at bay. The ones that have experience are checking their gear, attempting to get some sleep before the flight, or shaking down the first timers for smart electronics that could get them and their chopper killed during the ride. 
I take my eyes off the chaos just in time to witness the arrival of the people who sponsored this flight. A Princeton University archeological expedition that partnered with the American Museum of Natural History and the MET to study and gather artifacts from various ruins in Dhéǵhōm. They must have given the expedition a blank check because the Sons have their entire fixed wing transport fleet here and a good portion of the helicopter fleet as well. A green flare went up signaling ten minutes until launch time and everybody scrambled to their aircraft. I got into my Huey just as the last C-130 took off and the DC-3s started rolling down the runway. 
“Aren't they supposed to wait until the first aircraft is fully clear before sending out the second?” asks the kid sitting next to me.
 	I turn to him and say “No, we got a small window to time to get into the storm to ride the lighting down into Dhéǵhōm. So they launch the next plane as soon as the previous one is airborne.”
 “Makes sense.” the kid says.
 “Say, How many people are on this expedition anyway?” I ask, completely dumbfounded at the amount of equipment being used for this ride. 
“You didn’t know? Every archeologist, anthropologist, professor, and student on the east coast that wanted in on this expedition joined up.” The kid exclaimed his New England accent finally coming through.
 “That explains why the Sons pulled out enough aircraft to move a brigade.” I said as I attached my harness to the seat “You might want to do that as well, because once we ride the lighting it is five minutes of straight freefall until we get to Dhéǵhōm” I yell over the noise of the huey’s blades as we take off into the storm.
The storm bashed and bayed violently with lightning striking around us. I turned to the kid whose name I found out was Jeff “you see that over there” I say pointing to a bolt of lightning stringing one of the C-130s. “Relax” I say to a panicking Jeff who at this point was a hair away from hyperventilating at the sight of the vanishing aircraft “What do you think I meant when I said ride the lighting, we literally ride a lighting bolt down into Dhéǵhōm. What's next you're going to tell me you don’t know who the Fortunate Sons are?”.
 The blank look on his face and the reply of “I don’t listen to classic rock” told me everything I needed to know about the group of dipshits I’m going to be babysitting. In a tone of barley repressed rage I screamed “How the fuck do you not know the name of the group that is currently flying you to another dimension”. My angry tirade was cut short by the copilot shouting “Thunder strike in three, two, one” and with that we started out entrance to Dhéǵhōm. 
The five minutes of straight free fall surrounded by an electric blue stops freaking you out after the first minute, or so I thought because Jeff is still screaming. I smack him one to shut him the fuck up and then turn to the rest of the guys in the chopper with us for some help and their amused looks tell me that this guy is my problem until we land. 
“So why are you in one of the security choppers anyway?” I ask him and he tells me he swapped choppers with a raider who wanted to catch up with one of his old buddies from high school in one of the chinooks. Before I can even comment on that action the huey lurches and everybody perks up as sunlight returns to view.
 And over the radio we hear “Welcome to Dhéǵhōm dipshits, it is currently a nice and sunny 87 degrees outside with humidity at 73 percent. To our civilian passengers I will kindly ask you to keep all arms and legs inside the aircraft until we reach our stopover at Kilgore Airfield. As for Fortunate Sons on this flight as well as independent raiders who rely on us for transport. Lock and load the chinks are attacking FOB Quaritch and we are the closest group that can respond. All security aircraft peel off and relieve FOB Quaritch, also heads up Rhuook and his band are there as well so watch your fire.” 
Upon hearing this we all perk up as the stereo's in every chopper blasts Fortunate Son as we fly off into combat. I ready my Tommy Gun and look the kid in the eye and say “This is where the fun begins.”
The six hueys weaved their way through the labyrinth of cliffs, caves and arches, the tense mood from before was lifted. 
One of the guys Gabriel Ramirez was regaling us with the story of one of the chicks he hooked up with in high school “And her sister walks in and says can I play too. Before I can say anything the chick I'm banging says yes. At this point I realized I stuck my dick in crazy and am a dead man either way so I grab my clothes not even bothering to put them on, open the window and then jump from the second floor and ran buck ass naked the fuck out of there.”
 Once the laughter died down the one of the guys on the M60s Tyson remarked “You got the worst luck when it comes to women Ramirez you know that.” 
Before he could retort the pilot butts in “Cut the chatter were almost there.” As FOB Quatitch came into view there was a deep pants shitting roar “Good to hear he’s still alive” commented one of the guys.
 “What was that and who are you talking about?” Questioned a terrified Jeff. “You’ll find out soon enough” was the only response.
 “Chopper 4 this is Chopper 6 the enemy is in the southern treeline as well as on the hilltop, suppress them while we and chopper 2 deploy troops.” 
“Got it Chopper 6 suppressing the treeline any location on Rhuook and his troop?” I tap the pilot on the shoulder and point to the moving shadows in the treeline on the hilltop to the east. “Never mind, we have a positive ID on Rhuook and his people. They are in the eastern treeline. I repeat, avoid firing on the eastern treeline.” 
“Copy that Chopper 4 we’ll avoid firing on the eastern treeline.” The cacophony of gunfire spewed from our chopper into the southern treeline led by Tyson and Johannes on the M60s. The clack of my Thompson was music to my ears as I layed fire into the treeline. 
“Chopper 4 this is Chopper 6 you are cleared to deploy troops, I repeat you are cleared to deploy troops. We'll cover you while you drop your guys off.” 
“Is it over” whines Jeff and Ramirez answers “No. This is where the fun really begins.” 
Our huey barely touched down as we sprinted out of it. I turned to Jeff and said “Find a place to hide and stay there until it's over. Got it.”
 ''Got it” he replied as he ran off.
 With that moron dealt with I turned my attention to the more pressing matter: the Chinese platoon raining fire down upon us from the top of the hill. I hear the sound of a colt monitor and I turn and see Nunfucker one of the craziest mother fuckers here.
 “Good to see you again” he yells out over the gunfire.
“Good to see you too, what did I miss when I was topside?”
 “Nothing much just more of the same old same old, well besides Manfred’s band of merry band of dipshits saying that they found a way to awaken the ancient master race.” He says popping off to let off another burst.
 “And I already told you I got 5k on them being discount Pillar Men.” I reply, letting off a burst of my own weapon.
 “Let's finish this later, I got to rally those new bloods in the western side of the base” he says. 
“Alright, have you seen Rhuook anywhere, he should be dealing with the guys on the hilltop by now?” I ask just as another guttural roar rocks the jungle “Nevermind”.
 One by one the soldiers on the hilltop fell one by one and with the choppers bringing their full firepower to bear on the ones in the south this battle was all but over. As I relax I see Rhuook in the treeline and I motion to him that there is a civilian in the third building to the left of his position, Jeff’s hiding spot. 
“Did you really sic him on the civ Rabbit?” one of the older guys asked
 “Yes I did, that's what he gets for being a dumbass who got on the wrong chopper as well as annoying me.” I reply as another guttural roar bellows through the compound followed by a feminine scream the we assume came from Jeff and the Jeff himself running for his life while screaming “Evil wookie, evil wookie.” 
I trip him then grab him by the scruff of his collar and say to his blubbering face “First of all that is not a wookie that is Rhuook and he's an Orang Pendek otherwise known as a Rock Ape, third of all don’t call them wookies or all that will be left of you body is going to be a severed head that was tossed into camp. Comprende?”
 “Comprende” he says as a laughing Rhuook joins the group.
 Nunfucker comes up to us and says “I just got off the phone with Kilgore. The relief force should be here in five minuets to replace us and take us back to base so we can properly gear up for guarding those school kids. How many of them are there anyway?”
 “About 1200 if all of those aircraft are filled to capacity” I respond.
 “Oh shit that many. We’ll probably have to expand Clearwater Viginti Octo then.” Nunfucker replies.
 “Wait, I thought we only had 23 Clearwaters, now we're at 28? I was gone for two months when did this happen?” Nunfucker just chuckles and walked away. “Good to be back” I say as the choppers arrive.