“You’re clear. Twenty seconds to move. Over”
Moose and Clumsy, hunched over to present a low visual profile, moved quickly and silently through a narrow alley. After eleven seconds of moving, they came to a stop behind a large dumpster just feet from the open streets of SS1.
“Local approaching fifty meters to your west up the street.
Thirty.
Twenty
Ten.
Turned a corner. You’re clear for sixty seconds.”
As the two elite soldiers stalked through the streets of the small village, Moose made sure to say a prayer of thanks for Camelot’s arrival, as well as resolve to buy the entire team a round after the mission was over. Assuming they weren’t all court martialed and thrown in some godforsaken CIA blacksite for the rest of their lives, of course.
After half of Beowulf and all of Camelot teams had rendezvoused, their first issue had been confirming that their captured brothers were still in the village. It hadn’t taken them long to spot a large concentration of native soldiers; gold armor is not subtle, especially with the long-range observation gear that Camelot had brought along. Their .50 caliber sniper rifles also provided a wonderful sense of comfort.
Almost a dozen native soldiers, a mix of Pegasi and Unicorns, guarded the structure. They hadn’t been able to acquire visual on Lowball or Chainsaw, but Moose and Swiper, the team leader for Camelot team, had agreed that it was worth investigating.
Moose and Clumsy made sure to stick to the shadows as much as possible, a tactic helped by the fact that SS1 had few streetlights. It also worked in their favor that the town didn’t have much of a nightlife.
After less than half an hour of quietly infiltrating the hamlet, the two men were within two blocks of their target building; a three story round structure with a wraparound porch on the first floor, and full balconies on the second and third stories. Six gold-armored soldiers patrolled the structure. A pair of Pegasi on both the second and third story balconies, each on opposite sides of the building at all times and patrolling counterclockwise. Their spacing was such that the four formed a moving four-corner patrol, split between the two levels. The other two soldiers, both unicorns, were stationed at the front entrance to the building.
“Camelot 1-1, Beowulf. Can you see if the back door is guarded? Over,” Moose whispered into his throat mike. Beside him, Clumsy kept an eye out on their six o’clock. The four-piece NODs over his eyes bathed his face in a faint green glow.
“Negative Beowulf, I don’t have eyes on Black.” Black was the color-coded designation for the rear of the building. The front and back were designated as White and Black, the building’s left and right being Green and Red, respectively. The simple system allowed information from snipers to be relayed quickly to assault teams.
“Roger, Camelot 1-1. 1-3 are you in position? Over.” Camelot 1-3 consisted of half of the second Delta team, split off and positioned on the far side of the village. They had been forced to take a longer route through the forest to avoid detection.
“Roger, in position. Stand by, setting up scopes. Over.” A few seconds passed as the two soldiers sighted in their sniper rifle and spotting scope, as well as worked to conceal their observation position. “All set. Eyes on. Back door is guarded by two. Over.”
“Copy.” Moose released his throat mike and swore. The soldiers were in a bad position; they could eliminate the guards in thirty seconds or less and quieter than a whisper, but their orders said they weren’t allowed to engage the natives. They might have bended the rules for the rescue operation, but actually killing the locals would be indefensible. As it was, their behavior at least had a chance of being written off as D-Boy Cowboy games.
They also couldn’t use their more subtle tricks that they might on Earth, such as blending in with the crowd around the building. For one, there was no crowd, and two, they were completely the wrong species. Subterfuge was not an option. The area around the building was cleared for sufficient distance to keep them from being able to sneak closer, and the shades were drawn for every window to keep Camelot from being able to see inside.
“Beowulf, I think may have an opening. Break.”
Moose and Clumsy perked up.
“Black, Charlie, One has curtains open. They’re moving, and it doesn’t look natural. Over.”
Black, Charlie, One was the first window from the left on the third floor of the building’s rear side. The fact that 1-3 thought that the curtains were moving strangely was something. Not for sure, but if a Delta Operator thinks something is odd, something is almost definitely odd.
“Think it’s them?” Clumsy whispered. Moose shook his head, then realized a half second later realized Clumsy couldn’t see it.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, but don’t rule it out.” Moose clicked his throat mike, “1-3, can you see inside? Over.”
“Negative Beowulf. Our vantage point is too low. Over.”
“Copy. Is there any higher position you can observe from? Over.
An unusually long moment of silence passed.
“1-3, do you copy? Over.”
“This is 1-3, stand by Beowulf. Over.”
Another minute or so of silence hung in the air before the radio came to life.
“Beowulf, this is 1-3. I have a way to check it its our boys or not, but you’re not gonna like it.”
“1-3, I don’t like this. I really fucking don’t like this. Are you positive there are no other positions? Over.” Moose whispered even more quietly had than he had before. That was due to the fact that he and Clumsy were stacked up on the door to one of the buildings in SS1, prepared to enter.
“Negative. The only other structure with a good line of sight is confirmed occupied. Over.”
Moose resisted the urge to utter every word on the long list of curses more than a decade of military service had bestowed upon him.
The building he and Clumsy stood in front of was unremarkable. There were a dozen others just like it in SS1. Unfortunately, that meant that neither Beowulf nor Camelot team could remember anything about that specific building. Whether or not it was occupied, if it was occupied then by whom and what their schedule was, all of it was up in the air. Neither team had brought their Observation Books; Camelot had forgotten theirs and Lowball was carrying Beowulf’s. The only reason it had been selected specifically was twofold; it had a small third story attic with a window that pointed towards the guarded building, and it sat on the top of a small hill, just barely tall enough to give it a high angle view into the third story window.
Moose sighed. They were out of options and out of time. If they waited any longer, they risked losing Lowball and Chainsaw. If the natives decided to move them, the Operators wouldn’t be able to intervene without risking killing the guards. As it was, they were going to be hard pressed to form and execute a plan before sunrise.
As if the message had been relayed telepathically, both soldiers shifted into position to enter the structure. Clumsy tapped Moose on the shoulder, and Moose lightly gripped the doorknob. It was unlocked. Moose turned it slowly and pushed inward. He set his feet on the hardwood floor softly to avoid making a sound.
The door opened into what looked like a living room; a small couch in front of a dead fireplace. Dust covered the mantle above the hearth. Moose advanced slowly farther into the house. Behind him, Clumsy closed the door and followed.
The two soldiers stayed close to the walls as they progressed inwards to reduce the chance of creaking. The living room led to a kitchen that lacked appliances and an empty hallway. Rifles at the ready, they walked towards the hallway. Clumsy stepped into the kitchen to check for occupants. Moose waited with his rifle trained on the stairs at the end of the hall as Clumsy executed his search. The PEQ-15 laser showed up as a bright green beam on his NODs.
A high pitched screech pierced the air and immediately cut off. Moose tensed, but after two minutes the house remained silent. A moment later, Clumsy stepped out of the kitchen and nodded. Moose turned back towards the hallway and moved forward. Clumsy followed silently.
The hallway had three doors before ending in a staircase. Moose moved to open the left door first, which turned out to lead to a broom closet. He turned and covered Clumsy who pushed open the right door, which had already been slightly ajar. This door revealed what was presumably a bedroom, though it lacked any furniture to mark it as such. The third door was a bathroom, and the large bathtub lacked a shower curtain.
Moose keyed his mike as Clumsy closed the door and took up a position at the base of the stairs.
“Camelot, Beowulf. First floor clear. This place looks vacant. Moving to second floor. Over.”
“Copy Beowulf, moving to second floor.”
A tap on the shoulder sent Clumsy up the stairs. He scanned as he ascended with Moose on his tail. The second floor was just as empty as the first, nothing more than another pair of bedrooms and a second bathroom.
“Second floor clear. Moving to third.”
“Copy. Moving to three.”
The attic was accessible by a drop-down ladder in the second story hallway. Moose pulled the string and carefully caught the ladder as it fell. Instead of a crash, he lowered the rungs to the floor silent as a mouse. Clumsy ascended the latter with Moose covering him. A muffled, “Clear,” came from above, and Moose pulled himself into the attic.
The space was cramped, barely four feet high. It forced both men to crouch as they moved to the only window. There were small ventilation openings on both sides of the small glass portal, as well as a larger one on the opposite side of the house, but the attic was still hot and stuffy. Cobwebs pockmarked the walls and hung from the rafters.
Moose edged himself up to the window and looked out. The view of the town was excellent; he had an unobstructed outlook on half the village, including a direct line of sight towards the target building.
“Camelot, Beowulf is in position. Turns out 1-3 was right; couldn’t ask for a better view. Setting up OP gear now. Over.”
Clumsy pulled the spotting scope Camelot team had leant them from his gear and sat it in front of the window. He leaned down to peer through the eye port and grinned.
“I see them. They’re alive, and they look pissed.”
Moose chuckled. “That’s always a good sign. Move over.” Clumsy rolled to the right and allowed Moose to slip in behind the scope.
Downrange, at 324 meters according to the built in laser range finder, Moose saw Chainsaw. He was sitting on his ass with shackles around his wrists and ankles. He did indeed look pissed. In the bottom left corner of the window, just an inch or two of dirty blonde hair showed above the windowsill. Lowball.
The two men had been stripped of their equipment, but appeared unharmed. Through the powerful magnifier Moose saw Chainsaw moving his lips, though he couldn’t make out what was being said.
“Camelot, Beowulf. I have eyes on friendlies. Appear healthy and happy. Over.” Moose released his mike and turned his eye back to the scope. “Okay, we found ‘em. Now we gotta get them out.”
