Chapter 1: ICE 4

C/Sgt. T. MacMULLIN

International Cadet Exchange Program

CFB Cold Lake Training Center

It was graduation day from ICE training. Eight weeks of thorough Rifle, Drill, Combat, and Diplomatic training, no one ever thought that a bunch of fifteen year olds would be able to pull it off. Well we did, as we stood on the drill square, facing our instructors, and parents, we realized that we were off in a twenty different directions, some of us to the States others to Australia, and some off to the UK. Twenty cadets, all were close, we with the active duty Privates, hell, we were felt like adults. Trained to do stuff that we were technically not allowed to do until we were eighteen, but here we were.

As I walked across the stage, my former mentor, CI Chris Gillings, and Cadet Master Sergeant Dowell were waiting to hand me my Sergeant strips, as practiced, I stopped mid-platform, turned right, and stood at attention.

"Cadet Sergeant Troy MacMullin, Call-Sign Ghost Hawk, One Eighty Fifth Royal Canadian Air Cadet Squadron, trained with Advanced Armed Cadet Corps before being selected to the International Cadet Exchange Program, Sergeant MacMullin will be traveling to the Southern United States, to a city called Daphne, Alabama, where he will be the ICE representative of AL-935 Daphne High School, the current best in state."

To add to the ICE training, I had before undergone combat survival training, rifles, non-lethal explosions, simu-nition, and the whole nine yards. That part of my file had been officially sealed; only two people that I knew of could access it, C.I. Gillings and the Aerospace Science Instructor of the Corps I was going to. I had met the ASI before, Technical Sergeant Mendoza, he and I did a lot of good chatting about the expectations of the corps of which he was an Assistant in. It wasn't an AACT unit, but it would do.

I faced back left, and walked toward the end of the stage, Sergeant Dowell handed me the stripes, and said, "Good luck Mac," I shook hers and Gillings hands, and walked off the stage, to the vehicle that would bring me to the airport, a charter bus owned by the Canadian Forces.

2 Years Later: Daphne, Alabama,

C/WOII MacMullin

"ICE 4"

During my time in Alabama, I made some serious changes to the corps; I had introduced them to aircrew survival, range, and was in the process of training an elite operation squad, much like SWAT, from twenty candidates, I had chosen four of the most determined and most capable men and women I had met. Code Named TAC Two (TAC One was the AACT squad I was trained in), I had turned an unused back field, in to an operational training area, that was fenced off to anyone, Sergeant Mendoza and I were the only two with keys, if the fence was cut and breached by someone with wire cutters, the alarm went off on my phone, and a dozen motion activated cameras would begin to try and get an identity, major federal fines and once even jail time for two trespassers.

I had kept in contact with the other ICE members, each of us had a TAC team, it had been brought up on the possible creation of an International Task Force in the near future, the governments of Canada, Australia, England, and the United States had agreed on the project. We were simply instruments.

As I sat down to lunch, my with a few corps members, the question was brought up on my girlfriend, Bailey. I had been with Bailey for ten months, we had hooked up right before the twenty ten military ball, and were together ever since, nearly inseparable. The cadet had asked about the rumors of her and me, I hated lying to them, but I had to keep this on the down low, nobody had to know that she and I had screwed up. I simply told them, "Rumors are hardly ever true." I had six months left in my deployment to Daphne, I was thinking about asking for a little time off after I graduated high school so I could be with Bailey for a few months before I was cycled through BMQ.

As I walked in to the ROTC room after lunch Sergeant Mendoza, was sort of glaring at me disappointedly, "Hawk, can I see you for a moment?"

I followed him back in to his office, "What's up Sergeant?"

"The cadets have been asking me about your current situation with Miss Bailey, I'm sure they have been asking you as well,"

"Sergeant, scuttle butt is scuttle butt, not all of it is true, and it's my personal life, I don't think that the corps needs to know what's going on with me and Bailey."

Sergeant Mendoza was a longtime friend of Bailey, he helped her get through her high school life, and if he sensed that something was up, he'd drag me aside and ask me politely, it was an understanding we had, there was no need for push and shove. "Sergeant," I sighed, "If I tell you what's actually going on, can we keep it between you and me," he nodded, "Bailey and I, we messed up, got a little to close on a few occasions, I don't regret it, but now it seems I did something that I shouldn't have done in the first place, and it's the birds and the bees from there."

He had his hand on a letter, I could see the Canadian Forces imprint logo on the face of the envelope, and the flap was up, next to it was an American Defense Department envelope, "Hawk," he sighed, "I have two separate orders here for you, one confirming the other, as it seems, the International Cadet Exchange Members, are to mass produce soldiers, as ordered from the International Task Force Command, they have plans to invade the Israel, Syria region, and settle things there. They want sixty teams in the region by January twenty thirteen,"

"I can't train another eight cadets, the ones that passed the aptitude and physical tests high enough are only freshman and I can't legally train them until they pass they're freshman year,"

"The Directive states, you have can recruit from other schools, you have an advisor on the way down right now code named Raven,"

"Raven's coming here?"

"With a full blown support staff, he lands in Pensacola in twelve hours, have your squad there in at zero six hundred tomorrow morning," he handed me the base pass,

"Got it," I left his office; my squad was waiting outside the door,

"What's the memo?" Jason asked

"Be here zero five hundred tomorrow morning, we've got work to do, we're going recruiting,"

NAS Pensacola, 0600 the next day:

I had the squad formed up in front of the hanger, when I saw Major Gillings walk toward us, he had since been promoted to the ICE Staff, and I called them to Attention, and saluted the major when he walked in front of me. "Sir, it's an honor to see you again,"

"Like wise Warrant, stand them easy,"

I turned around, "Squad, parade rest!" I paused, "At ease," I faced back to Major Gillings, "We're ready for the briefing sir,"

"You know what to do," I side stepped left, and moved to the Majors right,

"Sir this is Tac Team Two,"

I followed him over to the squad, he stopped in front of Davis, Jay knew what to do, he had snapped back to parade rest, the rest of the squad was quick to follow, he faced Jason, he snapped to attention, his rifle shot up in the air, pulled the charging handle of his M4A1 back, a blank round popped out of the chamber, Major Gillings looked at me, "Scares the hell out of everyone at drill meets sir, the shells are blank, we can fire but there's no projectile."

He glared at me, seemed to almost scare the shit out of him, he looked back at Jay, "Name?"

"Davis, Jason, sir," Jay yelled,

"Specialization?"

Jay lived for this kind of stuff, he loved drill to the core, "Precision driving and room clearing."

"Rank?"

"Cadet Chief Master Sergeant,"

"Tell me something Mister Davis, if I was to go anywhere else, would I find a squad better than the one on your right?"

"No sir,"

Gillings smiled, he was impressed, "Carry on," He looked back at me and whispered, "What did you teach him?"

"He's the best sir, he practices how he plays, and he's my second in command,"

He moved to the next cadet, "Name?"

"Lowry, William Connor,"

"Specialization?"

"Room clearing and kicking ass sir," Gillings took one look at the weapon in Lowry's hands, I had gone deep into getting him a weapon of a hundred ten percent whoop ass, a "Shrike" LMG.

"Rank?"

"Cadet Master Sergeant,"

"How much do you trust Warrant Officer MacMullin,"

"I trust Hawk with my life sir, as he would with me,"

"This true Warrant?"

"Lowry is a hundred and ten percent correct, I trust each and one of these men with my life,"

Gillings moved on to the last one in line, "Name?"

"Meraz, Brandon"

"Specialization?"

" Spotter, and room security" Brandon was always trying to outdo Jason in drill, he was getting close, but Jason was a rock, nothing could make him break,

"Rank,"

"Cadet Master Sergeant,"

"Has Mac ever questioned your loyalty?"

"No sir,"

"Good," he walked back to the centered position, "Now, I've called you here today because we are going on a recruiting spree across the gulf coast, command wants three more squads out of the South Coast, as well as everywhere else that the ICE program is located, we are interested in the Foley School, Gulf Breeze, and Gulf Shores, I've already sent my staff to these locations, your job is going to be physical fitness training, Mac, get them to their new home,"

"Alright, at the far end of the tarmac, there is a newly constructed hanger, you each have your own room, this will be your home during training days, you're dismissed for the day, we head back to Daphne tomorrow."