drop their chutes and get to the bank without incident. Coming out of the water was simple enough, though it wasn’t all smiles for Wells. He turned his head to look at his teammates, and he saw Beecher and Jones staring at him and chuckling. None of them could see the other’s eyes through the night vision goggles, but Wells knew they were looking at something lower on his body.
“What?” Wells asked.
“You should feel your neck, bro,” Jones called out, not even trying to stifle his laugh.
Doing so, Wells felt a slimy creature under his fingers. It was a leech already making its home, attached to his jugular — at least that’s what it felt like. In reality, it had barely had time to make any connection at all.
“Ah, shit!” Wells cried as he threw the creature into the void of the night.
“Shh!” Smoke hissed as his knee hit the ground, weapon up and pointing at the jungle.
In a split second, the entire team followed his lead, weapons slowly fanning across the line of trees that created a massive fence across the land.
“There,” Smoke whispered, keeping his eyes downrange.
The other seven members strained to find the target Smoke was referring to, and slowly it came into focus. A deer went bounding by, and a sigh of relief was shared by more than just a couple of them.
“Dinner!” Beecher called with a quick laugh.
“Next time. Let’s move,” James said.
Over the next two hours, they deliberately trekked slowly through the thick black forest toward the back end of the terrorist’s hideaway. As the compound came into view, they ensured each person was in the position to start the next stage of the operation.
Smoke looked over at Myer, a slim and wiry warrior who’d spent more time in combat than anyone else on their team. Myer gave Smoke an affirmative nod; he was ready to go. They made it all of thirty yards before they halted.
“Tsst . . . tsst . . . tsst . . . tsst . . .” Smoke whistled frantically with a fist raised in the air, indicating Myer needed to stop.
Myer froze in place, knowing the warning whistle sound. He looked over to his partner, who was signaling to look down at his feet. Doing as asked, Myer looked at his feet and saw nothing, but as his eyes adjusted to the sight of the ground, a slight shimmer of reflection barely passed through the green of his night vision.
Smoke slowly made his way to his partner’s location, stopping a few feet away, next to a small tree. He made quick work of the small twigs and branches, brushing them to the side, revealing a box containing enough explosives to end anything that set off the trigger mechanism. The wire stretched its way to another tree, and there was no question if they followed the line, it would show another explosive box ready to take out anyone sneaking around in the woods behind the compound.
Myer gave a grimace and a shake of his head, knowing how easily everything could’ve ended. He was fortunate not to have been injured, or worse, during all of the firefights he’d been involved in. Too many men lost their lives in this world of war.
“Thanks,” Myer whispered.
Smoke reached up to his neck, activated the communication device, and then quietly relayed to the team tripwires had been found.
It took almost ninety minutes to traverse the two hundred fifty yards from the tripwire to the compound. The timing was perfect. Only a few guards were in the back section of the building, and everyone who wasn’t on watch was as deep into their sleep as they’d ever be. The next few minutes would be the most critical for the operation. Those few guards would need to be dispatched without giving any notification of the Americans’ presence. Smoke was more than up to the task — he’d received his call sign for moments just like this.
Smoke slowly crept in the shadow of a corner of a building, coming to a stop only feet from a guard. The guard started his continuous line of marching toward the corner. Two feet away from Smoke, the guard stopped, looked around, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking an inhale of the nicotine stick. The guard took another step toward the darkness of the corner, only inches from the deep contrast between the floodlight he was standing in, and the pure blackness of night.
The guard gave a long