“Yes, Yes, Yes, yes, yes, yes!” yelled Garner.
He threw his headphones onto the table and jumped out of his chair.
He turned to Trautman and all the other base personnel present. There were radio telegraphists, officers, even some of the pilots on the base who had heard the rumour going around. They had come to see if it was true for themselves.
“There are two of them, and they’ve been confirmed and already identified, one of which is wounded.
Guys, you’ll never believe this. It’s Grizzly and Raven.”
The entire room broke out in chorus.
People were hugging, jumping, and applauding while others raised their arms up in the air.
Trautman, who had given all the orders in the background, fell into his chair, exhausted.
They’d found them. It was unbelievable.
They’d actually found them:
‘Already Identified’, yes...
Trautman had that checked, alright.
He wouldn’t dream of not doing it, just to be sure there were no doubts: Rambo and Jorgenson were safe.
Thank God – he thought.
That wasn’t the only reason the Colonel was thanking God for however. He was glad he’d found them before Baker Team B embarked on that crazy mission.
That mission they had given commands to the Colonel about, and not vice-versa. A mission that would have been an act of force against the Colonel’s will and as such, would have changed the relationship between him and the team forever.
That was why the Colonel was grateful, because that mission no longer had a purpose
He hadn’t been that lucky in Years.
Unbelievable – he thought.
These guys are performing at record breaking levels in this damn war. What’s more, they’re breaking the rules as they do it.
They can hit further than the rest and free any POWs they come across whether it’s on their mission or not. They can survive in the jungle longer than anyone else and can even make it back alive after being MIA.
What they’re doing is unbelievable, and even if I’m the one that created them, I can hardly believe it myself.
None of all this was ‘official’– it had no real military value, so-to-speak. Trautman and everybody else along with all those goddamn Generals were impressed by it and that actually meant a lot.
That was why Trautman, for the first time after so many years his feelings of joy overwhelmed him. So full of joy were that that they almost hurt considering what a tough guy he was! It was just one of those things, and no one in Washington DC would have ever understood it. To those of them who were there, in the field, risking their lives day in and day out, saving Rambo and Jorgenson meant something else.
In fact, if the Colonel took a step back and looked around, he’d have sworn everyone in the room had gone mad. Someone picked up a pile of paper off a desk and threw it up in the air the way one tosses confetti at a wedding.
Garner had left the room and brought back some imported beer. Clearly, it had been smuggled in some way although no one knew exactly how,
He grabbed one, gave it a good shake, cracked it open in front of his radio guy and sprayed it all over him.
The nightmare Trautman had been living had finally ended. Even though that rescue operation itself had no effect what’s so ever on the outcome of the war, it was, at least from then on, no longer his concern.
At that moment, all he wanted was for SOG to celebrate and to enjoy the light in their eyes. What he saw was the kind of look he hadn’t seen for a long time, maybe too long actually. It sure looked a lot like victory. Trautman got to his feet as everyone continued celebrating, put his hand on Garner’s shoulder and said in his ear:
“Get a jeep, let’s go to the hospital.”
-
Ortega was coming back from town, and as such, that evening he was dressed in civilian-like clothing He walked into his tent and made his way towards his cot holding a bottle of booze in one hand, and a carton of cigarettes in his other.
Quite unexpectedly, he heard commotion coming from right outside his door and then, out of nowhere, he found Berry standing right there in front of him.
“Jorgenson and Johnny...”
Ortega felt his jaw drop.
“They found them. They’re alive.”
Ortega threw his cigarettes and liquor onto his bed.
“They’ve already been rescued, and they’re fine. They’ll be landing at Dak To Hospital in a few minutes.”
Ortega frowned, the way a child would when on the verge of crying.
“Oh God,” he said suddenly, putting his hand in front of his mouth.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
In the end, he broke into tears.
Delmore, who was almost half a meter taller, gave him a hug but the smile disappeared off his face.
He’d suddenly become serious as he looked directly at Ortega.
“You’re a good team leader. Actually, Ortega, you’re excellent. Don’t second-guess yourself.
Ortega went ahead and nodded in agreement even though he wasn’t absolutely convinced.
He didn’t think it was as simple as that.
In fact, it wasn’t.