|Nov. 8th, 2008 @ 12:42 pm Operation: Neverwas, Just a Typical Day|
|So, it was just another day. I was hanging out by the pool, lookin' cool. 'Course, I had just finished my usual routine of a five mile swim and four hundred situps. Can't let the body go to fat.|
I was reading Sun Tsu's Art of War, though it was in a reader hidden inside a tabloid rag. Can't be spotted actually having a brain. It would blow my cover as the arm candy for an airhead heiress. I was also reading the rag, 'cause I had to be up on the latest "current events." Can't be hanging at a party and not know that Jamethon Sinestre was single again or that cultural icon Bethanie Morgans was up to her usual antics. Then again "Master Guns" throws pop quizes and the brass ain't exempt. You don't want to know what "Master Guns" does for punishment. The men have been grumbling about reporting him to the Hague for Human Rights violations and War Crimes.
Now, most times bad news comes and goes and no one is the wiser. No black clouds or sudden rain storms crop up. There are no ravens quoth'ing "Nevermore." You get some news and at first blush, you'd think something is on the up 'n up and then you find out what you don't know can hurt you. This was one of those times when the lack of intel bit us in the butt.
There were no talkative ravens or errant storm clouds. Just a messenger (who does that anyway, hell even we cavemen in the mil text) with a gilded invite to THE party of the century. It was the kind of thing we were waiting to set up. Our street cred was finally good enough to be "in." Now we could start scouting out some of the VIP only places and make the connections. You'd be amazed at how many shaddy places the rich n' famous use as party central.
Sergeant Helms replied back "affirm", after the requisite wait of a day. Didn't want to seem eager. We all tried not to look too happy to be going. Studious boredom is the fashion statement that never goes out of style and we wore it in spades. The real tough part was pulling more money out of the Four Shop to get new outfits. For all that she was a real G.I. jane, Lt. Castro was a real clothes horse. Course, so was CPO Raimes, but he wasn't quite so gung ho as "LT Julie." So it was more fun to tease her about it.
So once we were kitted out, it was time to make our plans. Can't be in the mil and not have war plans. As "Master Guns" says, "can't wipe your butt son without at least a plan A, a plan B and a go to hell plan!" We had a good idea of how we were gonna sell ourselves as "in the market" for some recreational pharmiceuticals and what would happen if we broke cover. Then we gammed out what would be necessary should we be incidental to some other power play.
That's when we realized we had no idea of what the inside of the "club" looked like. It was time for a little site recon. My team was detailed to go take a looksee and make sure there were no surprises. So we dressed up and headed to the ball.
Boy was that a mistake.