A Price Too High, page 3
Packman pulled up another image. “He and his wife are still in bed.”
“Primary target is confirmed in his bed with his wife.”
“Understood, Control. Feed the targeting positions to our tactical computers and notify us of any changes with respect to the primary and the children.”
“Roger that, Zero-One. We’re actively monitoring.”
“Copy that, Control. Zero-One, out.”
Leroux turned to Tong. “Status on the other missions?”
Tong checked her computer. “Team Seven has aborted. A mechanical problem on their Black Hawk forced them to turn around.”
Leroux cursed. “Who were they after?”
“Rebollo.”
“Washington’s not going to be happy with that. He’s one of the ones they’re most eager to get their hands on. Everyone else is on target?”
“Yes, sir. So far, so good.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He glanced at the timer counting down to Bravo Team’s insertion. Three minutes. The next half-hour would be intense.
He just prayed he wouldn’t be attending any funerals when it was over.
9 |
Approaching Álamos, Mexico
Dawson stared at his tactical computer’s display, strapped to his left forearm, scores of targets highlighted. The number had doubled since yesterday’s briefing, making their job much more difficult. He glanced over at Red. “Good thing we brought those autonomous weapons systems with us. As soon as we’re in position, make sure the computers paint all the targets, then identify the ones that it can’t get a line of sight on so we can take those out manually.”
“You got it.” Red grinned. “And I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t paint any of you guys.”
“That would be nice,” said Niner. “Using a computer to autonomously kill people is way too Terminator-like for me.”
Atlas eyed him. “I think you’re just afraid to be out of a job.”
Niner dismissed the idea. “Nope. The day that I can retire because I’m no longer needed will be the happiest day of my life. But no longer needed because I’ve been replaced by a computer? Hell no. That means the problem still exists. Peace on Earth, my man. That’s the only solution.”
“Good luck with that.”
Niner grunted. “I know, right? Seems like every day things just keep getting worse. It’s been too long since we’ve had a good world war to remind people just how horrifying it is.”
“Yeah, there’s a problem with that though. Wasn’t it Einstein who said, ‘I do not know with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.’?”
“This Einstein character sounds intelligent.”
Atlas shrugged. “I don’t know about that. He was some sort of patent clerk.”
Dawson eyed the two operators. “You two finished?”
Niner gave him a toothy smile. “Are we ever?”
“Sixty seconds!” shouted the pilot from the cockpit.
“Copy that, sixty seconds!” replied Dawson. “Equipment check.” It was an unnecessary command, everyone already started. Body armor was inspected, comms and computers tested, everyone giving a thumbs-up. As the door to the Black Hawk slid open, Dawson positioned himself to be first out. The chopper bounced hard, the insertion rapid, and he jumped out then cleared the rotors as the rest of his team followed, spreading out and taking a knee, the chopper lifting off seconds later.
Dawson confirmed their position on his GPS, the Black Hawk crew having inserted them exactly as planned. He took a bearing then pointed. “Ten minutes that way. I want to be in position and set up before the attack helicopters arrive and blow our cover.”
Red glanced at the night sky ahead. “I just hope Officer White’s distraction covered our insertion.”
Dawson stared at the remnants of said distraction ahead. “Let’s hope.”
10 |
Álamos, Mexico
Sherrie suppressed a smile as those around her waiting for the train to arrive ooh’d and aah’d at the fireworks display that had just ended. She had set it up earlier in the day, inside the courtyard of the small home she had rented. It was designed to last for three minutes, and was triggered by Langley. The moment the chopper approached, the whistles, pops, and explosions should have been enough to not only distract the guards at the compound, but cover the sound of the rotors of the massive Black Hawk as it delivered Bravo Team into position.
The whistle of the train had everyone returning their attention to the track. She spotted the light on the engine rounding the bend and her heart picked up a few beats. The attack on the compound would begin in less than ten minutes, and assuming the train departed on schedule, she should be far enough away to avoid any problems. If everything continued to go to plan, she would get off at the next stop where a car would be waiting for her with a CIA asset that would bring her to Obregón, where she would catch a plane home.
Fingers crossed.
11 |
Approaching Garza Residence Outside Álamos, Mexico
Dawson pointed to his right and Sergeant Gerry “Jimmy Olsen” Hudson broke off with Sergeant Eugene “Jagger” Thomas, lugging one of the automated weapon systems. They continued toward the compound, well-lit ahead, then he pointed to the left, sending Sergeants Danny “Casey” Martin and Trip “Mickey” McDonald to set up the second of three automated systems, Red along with three other team members having already split off to set up the final position at the rear. They would have coverage from three angles that should allow them to eliminate most of the targets in the initial assault, but nothing would be triggered until they were detected.
He activated his comms. “Control, Zero-One, start dimming the lights, over.”
“Roger that, Zero-One. Beginning to dim the lights.”
Dawson and the remainder of the team continued toward the compound. Niner came up beside him, staring ahead at the bright lights flooding their target. “Is it working? I can’t tell.”
“That’s the whole idea. They’re not supposed to be able to tell. Langley is slowly dropping the strength of the power being sent into the compound. As long as they do it gradually enough, nobody will notice, and in the next few minutes, those that are outside will barely have any light left, and those inside should start to have equipment failures. When they do notice, they should think it’s a problem at the power station and not a prelude to an attack.”
“I like it,” pronounced Niner. “What will these CIA guys come up with next?”
Red’s voice cut in over the comms and Dawson smiled, his friend out of breath. “Zero-One, Zero-Two, we’re in position, over.”
“Copy that, Zero-Two.” Dawson pointed at a stone formation ahead and they all slowed up. “We’re in position as well. Zero-One to Bravo Team, notify me as each of your systems are set up, over.”
Casey responded first. “Zero-One, Zero-Four, position number one is up and ready. Confirmed synced with Control, over.”
“Copy that, Zero-Four,”
Jimmy reported in next. “Zero-One, One-Zero, position number two is set up, synced with Control and acquiring targets, over.”
“Copy that, One-Zero.”
Sergeant Zach “Wings” Hauser, who had headed for the rear of the compound with Red but would be manning the weapon system, was the last to report. “Zero-One, One-Two, weapon system is online, synced with Control and acquiring targets, over.”
“Copy that, One-Two.” Dawson took a knee. “Control, Zero-One, all three weapon systems are reported synced and ready. Can you confirm, over?”
Leroux replied. “Zero-One, Control Actual, syncing of all three weapon systems confirmed, targets are being fed to the computers. We’ll be ready to go in less than sixty seconds, over.”
“Status on the priority targets?”
“Primary is still in bed with his wife. Children are still in their separate beds.”
Dawson peered through his binoculars, Niner, Atlas, and Spock doing the same. He pointed left of the main entrance. “The blind spot Langley identified is twenty meters to the left of the gate.” He indicated a depression fifty yards ahead, the long shadows cast by the dimming lights growing less distinct with each passing moment. “Let’s go.” He rose and sprinted toward the depression, the others on his heels. He hit the ground, Niner and Spock on either side of him, the lumbering Atlas half a dozen paces behind.
Niner glanced at his friend. “I told you, you ate too much lasagna.”
“You ate just as much as me.”
“Yeah, but I’m svelte. You’re already slow.”
“I may be slower than you, but I can maintain the same speed carrying six of you.”
Niner eyed him. “Has that ever proven useful?”
“You better hope we never have to find out.”
The lights ahead flickered. Dawson checked left toward the village where Sherrie had been staying and found the lights failing there as well. “Control, Zero-One, lights are flickering here. Any indication they’re concerned?”
“Zero-One, Control. Negative. We’ve been doing this for the past week. Ramp it down, ramp it up. They should interpret it as normal problems at the power plant. No indication that they’re expecting anything, over.”
Dawson and the others exchanged smiles. “Copy that, Control. Are we clear to proceed?”
“Stand by, Zero-One. We’re waiting for Team Eleven to get into position. Estimated ninety seconds to synchronized attack, over.”
“Copy that, Control. Ninety seconds. Standing by for your order to proceed, over.” Dawson turned to the others. “Ninety seconds. As soon as we’re given the order, we’ll get to the wall, go over, then attempt to extract the primary without being detected. If we’re really lucky, we might get in and out without anyone noticing.”
Niner groaned. “When are we ever lucky?”
Atlas gave Niner a look. “You’re finally dating. Shouldn’t you be getting lucky all the time now?”
Niner grinned. “Well, if we’re talking that kinda lucky, I’ve lost count.”
“That’s just because you’re using your fingers and toes.”
Niner’s eyes shot wide. “You can use your toes?”
Atlas groaned and Spock snickered when their comms squawked.
“This is Commander Operation Striking Dagger to all teams. You are clear to proceed. I repeat, you are clear to proceed, over.”
Dawson responded, as did the other dozen team leads. “Bravo Leader acknowledges, proceeding with mission, over.”
The lights to the compound flickered out and everyone rose, sprinting toward the wall. Niner and Spock reached it first, Spock dropping to his hands and knees. Dawson sprinted toward him then launched himself off the ground, pressing a boot into Spock’s back as he reached for the top of the wall. His cut-resistant gloves grasped the barbed wire at the top and he pulled himself up and over, straddling the wall. Reaching down, he pulled Atlas up as Niner pushed on the big man’s free foot. Atlas flipped over and back down to the ground on the other side as Dawson hauled Niner up then Spock, before dropping to the ground himself. The lights flickered back on, Langley monitoring their progress, coordinating everything like it was a symphony.
The lights were quite dim now, blinking occasionally, Langley’s manipulation of the grid masterful. Dawson quickly scanned the area, picking out over half a dozen guards, none looking in his direction, most staring up at the uncooperative lights. He rushed after the others using a line of bushes for cover.
“Zero-One, drop.” It was Leroux’s voice in his ear.
He hit the deck without questioning why. Two guards rounded the corner of the main structure, approaching his position and that of the others huddled at the far end of the hedgerow. All it would take would be for one of them to glance to their left as they passed. He drew his Glock and screwed in the suppressor, then using hand signals, delivered his orders to the others. Spock readied his own Glock as Niner and Atlas set aside their MP5s and drew their knives.
The two guards approached and Leroux updated him. “After you take out these two, you should be clear. Signal when you want us to cut the lights.”
The audio would be fed only to those affected by what was going on. There was no need to confuse the rest of the team with a situation they weren’t necessarily aware of. “Now,” he murmured.
The lights flickered again then the compound fell dark. Dawson watched as Niner and Atlas leaped to their feet, grabbing the unsuspecting guards and covering their mouths with one hand while slitting their throats with the other. Expert, precise, and swift, both bodies dragged behind the hedgerow within moments of the attack beginning.
The lights came back on as Dawson joined the others. “Good work. Let’s get inside before these two are missed.” He pointed at an open window on the second level to their far left. “That’s his room.” He activated his comms. “Control, Zero-One. What’s the status on our target?”
“Zero-One, Control. Still asleep. His wife woke briefly during the fireworks. She appears to be back asleep. Children are still asleep in their rooms.”
“Copy that, Control. Bravo Team, Zero-One. We’re attempting entry now, over.”
The various sub-units acknowledged.
“Control, Zero-One, confirm we’re clear, over.”
“Zero-One, Control. All guards are still stationary except for two roving patrols that are on the opposite side of the building. For the moment, you’re clear to go.”
“Copy that. Kill the lights.”
The compound fell dark yet again and the four of them raced for the window. Niner slung his MP5 and leaped at the wall, an architectural element jutting out from the main building giving him a 90-degree angle to work with. His left foot pressed into the stucco, giving him leverage and momentum to jump several more feet, his right foot gripping the main wall as he reached up and grabbed a drainage pipe, quickly scaling to the second floor and the open window.
“Control, status,” said Dawson.
“Primary and his wife are still asleep. No indication they heard him.”
Dawson gave Niner a thumbs-up and the operator hooked a rope from his belt over the windowsill. He gave it a good tug then tossed it down to the ground. Dawson grabbed it and hung from it for a moment, confirming it was secure, then rapidly scaled the wall, watching as Niner above him stealthily entered the bedroom. Dawson reached the top and quietly climbed over the window ledge. The moment his foot was on the bedroom floor the rope tensed again as Spock followed.
Dawson withdrew a small spray bottle from one of his many pockets, Niner doing the same. They approached opposite sides of the bed as Spock entered behind them, drawing his Glock and screwing on the suppressor, covering them. Dawson extended his hand, his finger on the top of the pump, aiming it at their target’s face as Niner did the same to the wife. Niner gave him a nod and Dawson returned it, pressing down on the pump twice. His target flinched, his eyes shooting wide, his mouth opening with a gasp that sealed his fate, the involuntary reaction causing him to inhale the fumes. The man’s eyes fluttered before he slumped, out cold.
Dawson glanced over at Niner as the man checked the wife’s pulse. “She’s fine, out cold,” he whispered.
“Good. Let’s get this guy the hell out of here.” Dawson tossed the sheet aside and frowned at the naked body underneath.
Niner grinned. “I’m glad he’s going over your shoulder and not mine.”
Dawson grabbed the man under the armpits and hauled him up, tossing him over his shoulder and heading for the window.
Leroux’s voice piped in. “Zero-One, Control. It looks like the locals are getting restless. We’ve got to get these lights back on, over.”
“Working on it,” replied Dawson.
Spock fit a harness over their unconscious target’s body then attached it to the rope. Dawson shoved him out the window and he dropped quickly toward the ground and into Atlas’ arms.
“Let’s go.”
Spock flipped over the window then dropped, Niner following. Dawson did one last check of the room then climbed over the edge, unhooking the rope and dropping it to the ground below. He hopped over to the drainage pipe and scurried down to the ground where he found Niner coiling the rope and Atlas with their target slung over his shoulder, as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes.
Somebody shouted to their right and Dawson cursed.
“Zero-One, Control. You’ve been spotted, over.”
“Copy that, Control. Zero-One to Bravo Team. Light them up, and let’s hope that damn AI recognizes friendlies.”
Acknowledgments from the three automated sniper teams came in over his earpiece as the lethal automated weapons systems opened up on the compound. Dawson and the others sprinted toward the outer wall, covering Atlas as he lumbered with his heavy load like a juggernaut. All around them, weapons fired blindly from an enemy taken completely by surprise, the computers controlling the three automated gun placements firing two rapid rounds at each target they had been tracking. Anybody within their sights would be taken out within seconds. The problem would be those inside, currently hidden from the targeting systems.
They reached the wall unscathed. Spock boosted Dawson to the top. Dawson extended an arm and pulled Spock up with him as Atlas heaved their target toward them. They each grabbed an arm and dragged him up then flipped him over onto the ground, the man smacking onto the unforgiving dirt with an unceremonious thud. They both reached down and hauled Atlas up as Niner pushed from below, the big man expertly flipping over the wall and dropping on the other side, sticking the landing. Dawson helped Niner up and the agile warrior cleared the wall and landed beside his friend, who already had their prisoner over his shoulder once again.
Gunfire sprayed the wall and Spock took a round to the back. Gasping from the impact, he fell off the top of the wall and onto the ground below as Dawson took two to the chest, his body shaking with each impact. Unfortunately, unlike Spock, he fell inside the compound. He gulped for breath, checking his chest and finding two bullets embedded in his armor.
“Primary target is confirmed in his bed with his wife.”
“Understood, Control. Feed the targeting positions to our tactical computers and notify us of any changes with respect to the primary and the children.”
“Roger that, Zero-One. We’re actively monitoring.”
“Copy that, Control. Zero-One, out.”
Leroux turned to Tong. “Status on the other missions?”
Tong checked her computer. “Team Seven has aborted. A mechanical problem on their Black Hawk forced them to turn around.”
Leroux cursed. “Who were they after?”
“Rebollo.”
“Washington’s not going to be happy with that. He’s one of the ones they’re most eager to get their hands on. Everyone else is on target?”
“Yes, sir. So far, so good.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He glanced at the timer counting down to Bravo Team’s insertion. Three minutes. The next half-hour would be intense.
He just prayed he wouldn’t be attending any funerals when it was over.
9 |
Approaching Álamos, Mexico
Dawson stared at his tactical computer’s display, strapped to his left forearm, scores of targets highlighted. The number had doubled since yesterday’s briefing, making their job much more difficult. He glanced over at Red. “Good thing we brought those autonomous weapons systems with us. As soon as we’re in position, make sure the computers paint all the targets, then identify the ones that it can’t get a line of sight on so we can take those out manually.”
“You got it.” Red grinned. “And I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t paint any of you guys.”
“That would be nice,” said Niner. “Using a computer to autonomously kill people is way too Terminator-like for me.”
Atlas eyed him. “I think you’re just afraid to be out of a job.”
Niner dismissed the idea. “Nope. The day that I can retire because I’m no longer needed will be the happiest day of my life. But no longer needed because I’ve been replaced by a computer? Hell no. That means the problem still exists. Peace on Earth, my man. That’s the only solution.”
“Good luck with that.”
Niner grunted. “I know, right? Seems like every day things just keep getting worse. It’s been too long since we’ve had a good world war to remind people just how horrifying it is.”
“Yeah, there’s a problem with that though. Wasn’t it Einstein who said, ‘I do not know with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.’?”
“This Einstein character sounds intelligent.”
Atlas shrugged. “I don’t know about that. He was some sort of patent clerk.”
Dawson eyed the two operators. “You two finished?”
Niner gave him a toothy smile. “Are we ever?”
“Sixty seconds!” shouted the pilot from the cockpit.
“Copy that, sixty seconds!” replied Dawson. “Equipment check.” It was an unnecessary command, everyone already started. Body armor was inspected, comms and computers tested, everyone giving a thumbs-up. As the door to the Black Hawk slid open, Dawson positioned himself to be first out. The chopper bounced hard, the insertion rapid, and he jumped out then cleared the rotors as the rest of his team followed, spreading out and taking a knee, the chopper lifting off seconds later.
Dawson confirmed their position on his GPS, the Black Hawk crew having inserted them exactly as planned. He took a bearing then pointed. “Ten minutes that way. I want to be in position and set up before the attack helicopters arrive and blow our cover.”
Red glanced at the night sky ahead. “I just hope Officer White’s distraction covered our insertion.”
Dawson stared at the remnants of said distraction ahead. “Let’s hope.”
10 |
Álamos, Mexico
Sherrie suppressed a smile as those around her waiting for the train to arrive ooh’d and aah’d at the fireworks display that had just ended. She had set it up earlier in the day, inside the courtyard of the small home she had rented. It was designed to last for three minutes, and was triggered by Langley. The moment the chopper approached, the whistles, pops, and explosions should have been enough to not only distract the guards at the compound, but cover the sound of the rotors of the massive Black Hawk as it delivered Bravo Team into position.
The whistle of the train had everyone returning their attention to the track. She spotted the light on the engine rounding the bend and her heart picked up a few beats. The attack on the compound would begin in less than ten minutes, and assuming the train departed on schedule, she should be far enough away to avoid any problems. If everything continued to go to plan, she would get off at the next stop where a car would be waiting for her with a CIA asset that would bring her to Obregón, where she would catch a plane home.
Fingers crossed.
11 |
Approaching Garza Residence Outside Álamos, Mexico
Dawson pointed to his right and Sergeant Gerry “Jimmy Olsen” Hudson broke off with Sergeant Eugene “Jagger” Thomas, lugging one of the automated weapon systems. They continued toward the compound, well-lit ahead, then he pointed to the left, sending Sergeants Danny “Casey” Martin and Trip “Mickey” McDonald to set up the second of three automated systems, Red along with three other team members having already split off to set up the final position at the rear. They would have coverage from three angles that should allow them to eliminate most of the targets in the initial assault, but nothing would be triggered until they were detected.
He activated his comms. “Control, Zero-One, start dimming the lights, over.”
“Roger that, Zero-One. Beginning to dim the lights.”
Dawson and the remainder of the team continued toward the compound. Niner came up beside him, staring ahead at the bright lights flooding their target. “Is it working? I can’t tell.”
“That’s the whole idea. They’re not supposed to be able to tell. Langley is slowly dropping the strength of the power being sent into the compound. As long as they do it gradually enough, nobody will notice, and in the next few minutes, those that are outside will barely have any light left, and those inside should start to have equipment failures. When they do notice, they should think it’s a problem at the power station and not a prelude to an attack.”
“I like it,” pronounced Niner. “What will these CIA guys come up with next?”
Red’s voice cut in over the comms and Dawson smiled, his friend out of breath. “Zero-One, Zero-Two, we’re in position, over.”
“Copy that, Zero-Two.” Dawson pointed at a stone formation ahead and they all slowed up. “We’re in position as well. Zero-One to Bravo Team, notify me as each of your systems are set up, over.”
Casey responded first. “Zero-One, Zero-Four, position number one is up and ready. Confirmed synced with Control, over.”
“Copy that, Zero-Four,”
Jimmy reported in next. “Zero-One, One-Zero, position number two is set up, synced with Control and acquiring targets, over.”
“Copy that, One-Zero.”
Sergeant Zach “Wings” Hauser, who had headed for the rear of the compound with Red but would be manning the weapon system, was the last to report. “Zero-One, One-Two, weapon system is online, synced with Control and acquiring targets, over.”
“Copy that, One-Two.” Dawson took a knee. “Control, Zero-One, all three weapon systems are reported synced and ready. Can you confirm, over?”
Leroux replied. “Zero-One, Control Actual, syncing of all three weapon systems confirmed, targets are being fed to the computers. We’ll be ready to go in less than sixty seconds, over.”
“Status on the priority targets?”
“Primary is still in bed with his wife. Children are still in their separate beds.”
Dawson peered through his binoculars, Niner, Atlas, and Spock doing the same. He pointed left of the main entrance. “The blind spot Langley identified is twenty meters to the left of the gate.” He indicated a depression fifty yards ahead, the long shadows cast by the dimming lights growing less distinct with each passing moment. “Let’s go.” He rose and sprinted toward the depression, the others on his heels. He hit the ground, Niner and Spock on either side of him, the lumbering Atlas half a dozen paces behind.
Niner glanced at his friend. “I told you, you ate too much lasagna.”
“You ate just as much as me.”
“Yeah, but I’m svelte. You’re already slow.”
“I may be slower than you, but I can maintain the same speed carrying six of you.”
Niner eyed him. “Has that ever proven useful?”
“You better hope we never have to find out.”
The lights ahead flickered. Dawson checked left toward the village where Sherrie had been staying and found the lights failing there as well. “Control, Zero-One, lights are flickering here. Any indication they’re concerned?”
“Zero-One, Control. Negative. We’ve been doing this for the past week. Ramp it down, ramp it up. They should interpret it as normal problems at the power plant. No indication that they’re expecting anything, over.”
Dawson and the others exchanged smiles. “Copy that, Control. Are we clear to proceed?”
“Stand by, Zero-One. We’re waiting for Team Eleven to get into position. Estimated ninety seconds to synchronized attack, over.”
“Copy that, Control. Ninety seconds. Standing by for your order to proceed, over.” Dawson turned to the others. “Ninety seconds. As soon as we’re given the order, we’ll get to the wall, go over, then attempt to extract the primary without being detected. If we’re really lucky, we might get in and out without anyone noticing.”
Niner groaned. “When are we ever lucky?”
Atlas gave Niner a look. “You’re finally dating. Shouldn’t you be getting lucky all the time now?”
Niner grinned. “Well, if we’re talking that kinda lucky, I’ve lost count.”
“That’s just because you’re using your fingers and toes.”
Niner’s eyes shot wide. “You can use your toes?”
Atlas groaned and Spock snickered when their comms squawked.
“This is Commander Operation Striking Dagger to all teams. You are clear to proceed. I repeat, you are clear to proceed, over.”
Dawson responded, as did the other dozen team leads. “Bravo Leader acknowledges, proceeding with mission, over.”
The lights to the compound flickered out and everyone rose, sprinting toward the wall. Niner and Spock reached it first, Spock dropping to his hands and knees. Dawson sprinted toward him then launched himself off the ground, pressing a boot into Spock’s back as he reached for the top of the wall. His cut-resistant gloves grasped the barbed wire at the top and he pulled himself up and over, straddling the wall. Reaching down, he pulled Atlas up as Niner pushed on the big man’s free foot. Atlas flipped over and back down to the ground on the other side as Dawson hauled Niner up then Spock, before dropping to the ground himself. The lights flickered back on, Langley monitoring their progress, coordinating everything like it was a symphony.
The lights were quite dim now, blinking occasionally, Langley’s manipulation of the grid masterful. Dawson quickly scanned the area, picking out over half a dozen guards, none looking in his direction, most staring up at the uncooperative lights. He rushed after the others using a line of bushes for cover.
“Zero-One, drop.” It was Leroux’s voice in his ear.
He hit the deck without questioning why. Two guards rounded the corner of the main structure, approaching his position and that of the others huddled at the far end of the hedgerow. All it would take would be for one of them to glance to their left as they passed. He drew his Glock and screwed in the suppressor, then using hand signals, delivered his orders to the others. Spock readied his own Glock as Niner and Atlas set aside their MP5s and drew their knives.
The two guards approached and Leroux updated him. “After you take out these two, you should be clear. Signal when you want us to cut the lights.”
The audio would be fed only to those affected by what was going on. There was no need to confuse the rest of the team with a situation they weren’t necessarily aware of. “Now,” he murmured.
The lights flickered again then the compound fell dark. Dawson watched as Niner and Atlas leaped to their feet, grabbing the unsuspecting guards and covering their mouths with one hand while slitting their throats with the other. Expert, precise, and swift, both bodies dragged behind the hedgerow within moments of the attack beginning.
The lights came back on as Dawson joined the others. “Good work. Let’s get inside before these two are missed.” He pointed at an open window on the second level to their far left. “That’s his room.” He activated his comms. “Control, Zero-One. What’s the status on our target?”
“Zero-One, Control. Still asleep. His wife woke briefly during the fireworks. She appears to be back asleep. Children are still asleep in their rooms.”
“Copy that, Control. Bravo Team, Zero-One. We’re attempting entry now, over.”
The various sub-units acknowledged.
“Control, Zero-One, confirm we’re clear, over.”
“Zero-One, Control. All guards are still stationary except for two roving patrols that are on the opposite side of the building. For the moment, you’re clear to go.”
“Copy that. Kill the lights.”
The compound fell dark yet again and the four of them raced for the window. Niner slung his MP5 and leaped at the wall, an architectural element jutting out from the main building giving him a 90-degree angle to work with. His left foot pressed into the stucco, giving him leverage and momentum to jump several more feet, his right foot gripping the main wall as he reached up and grabbed a drainage pipe, quickly scaling to the second floor and the open window.
“Control, status,” said Dawson.
“Primary and his wife are still asleep. No indication they heard him.”
Dawson gave Niner a thumbs-up and the operator hooked a rope from his belt over the windowsill. He gave it a good tug then tossed it down to the ground. Dawson grabbed it and hung from it for a moment, confirming it was secure, then rapidly scaled the wall, watching as Niner above him stealthily entered the bedroom. Dawson reached the top and quietly climbed over the window ledge. The moment his foot was on the bedroom floor the rope tensed again as Spock followed.
Dawson withdrew a small spray bottle from one of his many pockets, Niner doing the same. They approached opposite sides of the bed as Spock entered behind them, drawing his Glock and screwing on the suppressor, covering them. Dawson extended his hand, his finger on the top of the pump, aiming it at their target’s face as Niner did the same to the wife. Niner gave him a nod and Dawson returned it, pressing down on the pump twice. His target flinched, his eyes shooting wide, his mouth opening with a gasp that sealed his fate, the involuntary reaction causing him to inhale the fumes. The man’s eyes fluttered before he slumped, out cold.
Dawson glanced over at Niner as the man checked the wife’s pulse. “She’s fine, out cold,” he whispered.
“Good. Let’s get this guy the hell out of here.” Dawson tossed the sheet aside and frowned at the naked body underneath.
Niner grinned. “I’m glad he’s going over your shoulder and not mine.”
Dawson grabbed the man under the armpits and hauled him up, tossing him over his shoulder and heading for the window.
Leroux’s voice piped in. “Zero-One, Control. It looks like the locals are getting restless. We’ve got to get these lights back on, over.”
“Working on it,” replied Dawson.
Spock fit a harness over their unconscious target’s body then attached it to the rope. Dawson shoved him out the window and he dropped quickly toward the ground and into Atlas’ arms.
“Let’s go.”
Spock flipped over the window then dropped, Niner following. Dawson did one last check of the room then climbed over the edge, unhooking the rope and dropping it to the ground below. He hopped over to the drainage pipe and scurried down to the ground where he found Niner coiling the rope and Atlas with their target slung over his shoulder, as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes.
Somebody shouted to their right and Dawson cursed.
“Zero-One, Control. You’ve been spotted, over.”
“Copy that, Control. Zero-One to Bravo Team. Light them up, and let’s hope that damn AI recognizes friendlies.”
Acknowledgments from the three automated sniper teams came in over his earpiece as the lethal automated weapons systems opened up on the compound. Dawson and the others sprinted toward the outer wall, covering Atlas as he lumbered with his heavy load like a juggernaut. All around them, weapons fired blindly from an enemy taken completely by surprise, the computers controlling the three automated gun placements firing two rapid rounds at each target they had been tracking. Anybody within their sights would be taken out within seconds. The problem would be those inside, currently hidden from the targeting systems.
They reached the wall unscathed. Spock boosted Dawson to the top. Dawson extended an arm and pulled Spock up with him as Atlas heaved their target toward them. They each grabbed an arm and dragged him up then flipped him over onto the ground, the man smacking onto the unforgiving dirt with an unceremonious thud. They both reached down and hauled Atlas up as Niner pushed from below, the big man expertly flipping over the wall and dropping on the other side, sticking the landing. Dawson helped Niner up and the agile warrior cleared the wall and landed beside his friend, who already had their prisoner over his shoulder once again.
Gunfire sprayed the wall and Spock took a round to the back. Gasping from the impact, he fell off the top of the wall and onto the ground below as Dawson took two to the chest, his body shaking with each impact. Unfortunately, unlike Spock, he fell inside the compound. He gulped for breath, checking his chest and finding two bullets embedded in his armor.
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