posted outside the church. Team C—Sarah, Grayson, that’s you. If anything comes in or out of that church, it’s your problem.”
I glanced around, finding most eyes glued tensely to the chopper’s floor. Grayson’s knee was bouncing.
“Team B. Zach, Colin, Roxy, Louise, Greta. You will split into groups, enter the church from the west windows and main door, and cover the first floor.” Bryce pulled on his gloves as he walked around the circle. “You will not leave that floor unless I tell you to. Only necessary use of comms inside the site. I shouldn’t hear more than a mouse fart in my earpiece. I’ll be on the floor with you, so any chitter-chatter will answer to me—and I promise you’d prefer the redbill.”
We rarely had the captain on the ground with us. Sweat dampened my palms, and I hadn’t even heard my station’s details yet.
“Team A.” Bryce paused to clear his throat, his icy eyes glancing down momentarily. “Gina, Lyra. You two will enter through the east wall’s window. The site has multiple levels, and you will be the first to head up. Silence is golden, lassies.”
I nodded, holding Bryce’s gaze. Gina sat to my left, and I watched her hands clench.
“The main floor is somewhere around thirty-thousand square feet,” our captain continued. “We haven’t placed the target yet, so step lightly. Redbills’ sense of hearing isn’t nearly as sharp as their eyesight, which is why I’m permitting an airdrop. But don’t take anything for granted once we’re in a closed space.”
The head pilot’s voice came through our earpieces. “Three minutes to site.”
“Three minutes and fifteen seconds to drop,” Bryce replied into his comm.
Zach cracked his knuckles from across the circle.
“Once we locate our target, you know what to do.” Bryce tightened his artillery belt. “Safeties off when your little feet hit the ground. Understood?”
“Yes, Captain,” the entire crew resounded loudly.
Bryce moved to the cockpit. Our comms were silent. He’d turned them off, but I could see his lips moving rapidly as he gesticulated to the pilots.
For the short time until the drop, our eyes remained locked on the tips of our boots. No one said a word. The droning of the chopper intensified, and my stomach lurched as the craft descended. I closed my eyes. Breathe. At least my thigh was feeling much better than last night. The rest had done it a lot of good.
I glanced up briefly in the silence and caught Zach looking at me. His mouth formed a small smile. He winked.
“Line up, children,” Bryce snapped, returning from the cockpit. “Look alive, why don’t ya?”
The group bolted from their seats, the sound of our steps blending with the chopper’s hum. Gina and I locked eyes, then shoulders. We made our way to the open door. The tops of trees became clearer in the now-pale-violet morning light.
The church came into view from the doorway, just to the north. Its spire had shattered; what remained was a spike of pale gray wood pointing at the sky. The shingles were scattered about the roof, some stacked together like forgotten piles of papers. The air battered my cheeks. The thrumming of the blades above battered my eardrums.
“Thirty seconds to drop!” Bryce’s voice bit through my earpiece.
I looked over my shoulder. The teams were paired and lined up behind us, facing the exits. I braced my weapon tightly against my side.
“Ten seconds!” the captain shouted behind me.
The main doors of the church were visible below, and the chopper now hovered in place just behind the trees encircling the building. Someone dropped the two lines on each side of the doorway, and they slithered down toward the ground.
Gina reached over and gripped my arm for a split second.
“Drop, teams!”
Sucking in a breath, I crouched alongside Gina, gripping my line, and the chopper floor disappeared from beneath my feet. Weightlessness overtook me. The rushing air blurred my sight, and the friction of the line whizzing through my gloves warmed their damp fabric.
Treetops surged closer, then branches, trunks—ground—
Gina and I hit the soil in tandem. We dropped our lines and stepped away silently, unlocking the safeties on our guns and moving into position. My peripheral vision showed the other teams landing behind us and filing toward the church. The building’s walls may have been painted once, but all that remained were thin streaks of gray on the rotting wooden boards. It was taller than I’d expected, its roof reaching far above us amongst the treetops.
Gina led the way. The back window—our entrance—was at