conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Illinois, State, University with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Towers'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled The Towers about Michigan, South, East with the genre: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Science Fiction.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: the author is a native of South East Michigan but currently lives in Marquette, Michigan pursuing a degree at Northern Michigan University. She also works as an independent filmmaker and costume shop seamstress at her college theatre. http://authornatalieberger.blogspot.com/2013/05/about-author.html
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first three paragraphs for the book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Towers
  But the more he saw of this country, the more daunting the logistics seemed. He was used to operating close to the sea, or at least with access to a port. But Afghanistan was landlocked. Worse, the roads were so bad you couldn't even truck fuel in to Bagram. It had to be "wet winged" out of transports into the swollen black rubber bladders that lined the airstrip. (He often wondered what would happen if one of the rockets that occasionally fell hit that tank farm.) The closest strategic airlift strips were in Kuwait and Turkey. From there everything had to be cross-loaded to smaller aircraft, which used up even more fuel and made it hard to schedule flow of assets into the theater. They could purify local water, but everything else—food, ammo, batteries, medical supplies—would have to go in by helicopter. And an attack into the high valleys could easily entail a six-hour hike from the helo LZs, either on foot or by donkey.
  US forces would be restricted to the sort of logistics train that had supplied Lee and Grant during the Civil War. No, worse; there wasn't a single operating railroad in Afghanistan.
  Dan was mulling this over walking back from the piss pit when a hulky figure in a fur vest intercepted him. Beanie Belote, pistol on his hip, in bandanna and black, Russian high boots, a pakul hat looking odd atop his braided pigtail. He hitched a bright green athletic bag higher on his shoulder. "Commander. What you working on? Right now?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Towers
  But the more he saw of this country, the more daunting the logistics seemed. He was used to operating close to the sea, or at least with access to a port. But Afghanistan was landlocked. Worse, the roads were so bad you couldn't even truck fuel in to Bagram. It had to be "wet winged" out of transports into the swollen black rubber bladders that lined the airstrip. (He often wondered what would happen if one of the rockets that occasionally fell hit that tank farm.) The closest strategic airlift strips were in Kuwait and Turkey. From there everything had to be cross-loaded to smaller aircraft, which used up even more fuel and made it hard to schedule flow of assets into the theater. They could purify local water, but everything else—food, ammo, batteries, medical supplies—would have to go in by helicopter. And an attack into the high valleys could easily entail a six-hour hike from the helo LZs, either on foot or by donkey.
  US forces would be restricted to the sort of logistics train that had supplied Lee and Grant during the Civil War. No, worse; there wasn't a single operating railroad in Afghanistan.
  Dan was mulling this over walking back from the piss pit when a hulky figure in a fur vest intercepted him. Beanie Belote, pistol on his hip, in bandanna and black, Russian high boots, a pakul hat looking odd atop his braided pigtail. He hitched a bright green athletic bag higher on his shoulder. "Commander.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me another paragraph.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: When they broke, Teddy went to his own tent and dragged his duffel out and laid out every piece of warm gear he owned. He pulled hard plastic weapons cases from under the bunk and lined them up and snapped them open. The M4 had worked okay last night, but three hundred yards had been a long shot for a 5.56. Up in the mountains, he might have to shoot across ravines. He gave the bolt another spritz of CLP and fitted the part back into its recess in the carrying case. Snapped it closed, and slid it back.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: And finish the job so many had died trying to do. Call it payback. Call it deterrence, if you wanted. Or justice. Even just, revenge. It wasn't only that, but why not. He didn't have a problem with vengeance.
  It might take years. But one thing was sure. America would never forget. Never turn back. And never, ever forgive. He belonged out there, at the pointy end of the spear. Someday, somewhere, on some mountainside or in a crowded souk or some isolated compound, in Africa or Afghanistan or Pakistan or at the fucking ass end of the earth, he'd get another chance. And the next time he or some other SEAL or Special Forces or Marine got in range, it would be a different story.
  Washington (Navy News Service)—The results of last year's active-duty captain line promotion selection board were voided on Feb. 21 after it was discovered that certain procedural safeguards required by the Secretary of the Navy had not been fully followed by board members.
  The new board, with new members, will begin meeting next week to begin what Vice-Admiral Niles called "full and fair reconsideration" of all eligible officers. The new promotion list will be available by the first of May.