Return of the Phoenix - 01 Read Online Free PDF Page A

going on. I’ve made inquiries up and down the chain of command, but I get blocked at every level. I can’t get any answers.”
    “I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Jacobs said, scratching at his chin in thought.
    “When you do, let me know what the fuck is going on, wouldja? I hate being left in the dark when it comes to my boys.” Andrews’ eyes bore into him. His Southern drawl kept slipping out when he spoke of his men. It was how his men knew they were close to him. Whenever he spoke of his family in Alabama, his accent would come slipping back, and before anyone could truly point to it, the man was speaking ‘fluent redneck’.
    “You got it, LT.” Jacobs snapped a crisp salute. He spun a quick about-face and marched out of the headquarters tent and double-timed it back to the tent he shared with Lamb. 
    Lamb was standing in front of his locker inspecting what few clean uniforms he had left, a towel wrapped around his waist when Jacobs came into the tent. “I got news from the LT!”
    “Yeah? Wazzat?” Lamb asked without looking up.
    “I’ll tell ya about after I wash the grit out of my ass.”
    Lamb followed Jake to the showers. “What’s the news? You can’t hold out on me, bro.”
    Jake tossed his towel over the edge of the shower door. “Another op. Wheels up at 0600 tomorrow.”
    “What?” Lamb was aghast. He turned on Jacobs. “What do you mean another op? We just got back off four days in the m icrowave!”
    “Don’t blow your wad at me, brother. It’s from DC, not the LT. And he doesn’t know any more than I just told you. He tried pulling in what few favors he had to find out. We’re all in the dark on this one. Hell, with our luck, we’re going from this hell to the fucking Antarctic!” With that he turned back and hit the shower valve letting the cool water flow over him.
    “Fuck!” Lamb threw a boot across the tent and knocked over his shave kit. “Shit!”
    “Throwing a hissy-fit won’t do any good,” Jacobs’ voice called from further out.
    “Fuck you and the white horse you rode in on.”
    “Hothead!” Jacobs retorted.
    Thirty minutes later, as both men lay on their cots, they contemplated the ramifications of their new orders. Both men had exemplary careers. Lamb had come from the East Coast originally, but being an Army brat and having no real place to call home, he joined the Navy to piss off his old man. The only thing that redeemed him in his old man’s eyes was when he became a Navy SEAL. The old man had been an Airborne Ranger and had spent the majority of his time barking orders both at work and at home. Lamb had been raised by his mother to be respectful not only of his father’s position, but of his temperament. But teenage boys tend to rebel and rebel he did. In spades. And when that fateful day came, Lamb was on the receiving end of the beating of his life. For a brief moment he actually thought he would hold his own until it became painfully obvious that the old man was holding back, taunting the younger Lamb into fighting harder, to prove himself to be worthy of the name.
    “You may be a Lamb, boy, but you’ll never be a Lamb led to slaughter!” his father said as he backhanded him across the face. “ I’ll make a man out of you if I have to beat you to death.” And he nearly did. Had his mother not gotten between them, he might nearly have paid for his pride with his life. The old man was many things, but smart enough to know when to quit wasn’t one of them.
    Thankfully, one thing Sgt. Major Lamb would never do was raise a hand to a woman. And when Mrs. Lamb stepped between father and son, the beating stopped. She helped her son to his room and nursed his broken body as best she could. The next morning, Ronald Lamb was gone. No note, no goodbye, no ‘kiss my ass’, not even a thank you for his mom. He just packed a change of clothes into a small duffel and left. When the bank had opened the next morning, Ronald cleaned out his