Mark, who must have been reading our lips, gave a nod in agreement. I knew they were right, but I was my own worst enemy, and guilt was rooted so deep I couldn’t see past it until now.
The hum of the chopper settled back over us as we waited for the command to drop.
When the engine throttled back, we moved to stand in line, and Mark’s hand landed on my shoulder, and I did the same to Mike in front of me, until we were all connected as one.
In as one, out as one. No one left behind.
I watched as my brothers disappeared into the unknown, below the belly of the beast. We never knew what awaited us on these missions, and for sure no one knew what awaited us this trip. All we could do was keep to our training and not get killed. It was times like this that made you realize just how important our training really was. It was the only thing that kept you alive—that and complete faith that your brothers would do the same. I checked the satellite phone that was tucked into the side pocket of my gear. Cole told me to take it since our radios were unreliable at the best of times. This was a trip where no errors could afford to happen.
Just before I went for the rope, I clicked on my music on low, and Backbone by Kaleo poured through my radio. I knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to play music, as it would hinder one of my senses, but I knew I needed this to settle my adrenaline. I loved the last three minutes of the song, and I listened to that as I watched the chopper disappear in the blackness above me.
My knees absorbed the impact, and I made quick work to find cover. Mike signaled, and I returned an affirmative, and we raced together down the pathway to our second point. Dawn would be on us soon, and that meant we were going to be easy to spot. I thought about each of my steps, careful not to step on any branches or twigs. As I pressed forward, I would pull back each branch and press it behind me for Mike to take hold. When I let go, I knew he would do the same and ease each branch back to its original place behind him. We worked well as a team. I led, and he trusted my actions.
We hit an area where we had to run flat-out for quite a distance before we came to the base of a cliff, our next challenge.
“Time?” Mike asked as we each filled an old t-shirt full of rocks and flung it on our backs. People might think we were crazy for adding more weight on such a steep climb, but we were about to climb a hundred-foot cliff that jutted out over water. We all knew from the pain of training in the past that if you fell, it was like hitting cement. If we dropped the t-shirt before we hit the water, it would break the impact for us. It gave us at least a hope in hell of not landing on solid concrete water.
“We’re under.” I grinned, holding my wrist up to show him my watch, and went for the first ledge to haul myself up off the ground. “Let’s shave more time off.”
“Ten-four.” Mike chuckled next to me. He and I took pride in the fact that we were fast.
Just like on the path we had taken to get here, every move was thought out before we went on to the next.
It wasn’t lost on me that we were now chasing the sunrise, and we were about to be targets on the side of a cliff, so we had to move as fast as we possibly could. Anything metal was tucked away so light couldn’t reflect off it and give away our location.
The sun soon found us and made it easier to see where we needed to make our mark in the rock in case we needed to drop our rocks to break our fall into the water. Two hours into the climb, that same cold prickle inched its way up my back, in spite of the sweat that ran freely down through the goosebumps. Something told me we weren’t going to be alone for much longer.