Page 26 of Legacy's Destiny

“Guards?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“A lot of chatter,” Bandit replied. Fluent in Laotian, his voice carried an edge of amusement. “Doesn’t seem like this is a big deal to them. They’re joking about it. The system must break down a lot. They’re still on the platforms, but it’s darker than pitch. No NVGs. They won’t see anything unless it’s moving by the comm building.”

“Copy.” Deacon’s lips barely moved as he responded. That was exactly where they needed to go.

He and Ranger slipped through the darkness, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and vegetation. The faint glow of the comms building guided them as they crept closer. Its lights flickered weakly, casting long shadows that shifted and danced in the darkness.

“Ace, are you ready?” Deacon asked, his voice low and steady.

“Few more minutes, Cap. Almost there,” Ace grunted, the strain of his work audible through the comms.

Deacon motioned to Ranger, his hand a blur in the dark. They halted just outside the building, the door slightly ajar. A faint and fleeting shadow passed across the opening. Ranger nodded once—at least one person was inside.

“Ready,” Ace panted, his voice tight.

“Push it,” Deacon ordered.

The crack of the tree snapping echoed through the jungle. Its sharpness muffled the explosive charge Ace had bored into the trunk. A thunderous crash followed, shaking the ground as the massive tree fell. Shouts erupted from the camp, sharp and chaotic, slicing through the night.

“They’re heading your way, Ace,” Deacon said, his voice calm amid the chaos.

“I’m nowhere near that tree,” Ace panted, his breath audible as he moved quickly through the underbrush.

“Overwatch?”

“They’re all looking toward the tree,” Bandit confirmed.

Deacon and Ranger moved with precision, the ground beneath them vibrating with the first roll of thunder. The air was electric and heavy, promising rain. The storm was close now, its dark clouds smothering the sky. No helicopter was on the landing pad, meaning any return flights would be delayed—likely for days, if not weeks, if the storm hit as forecasted. Another advantage to exploit.

They reached the comms building, slipping into position with practiced ease. Deacon crouched low while Ranger went high, rounding the door in a fluid motion. The entrance was empty save for a rusted gallon-sized can overflowing with cigarette butts, the acrid smell lingering in the stale air. Deacon’s fingers found the light switch, and with a flick, the building plunged into darkness.

NVGs snapped into place as they moved deeper into the building. The faint hum of electronics filled the air, and the glow of computer screens lit the room like ghostly beacons. The sudden brightness forced Deacon to lift his goggles, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted.

From somewhere deeper inside, the sharp cadence of curses reached his ears. He didn’t need to speak Laotian to recognizefrustration and anger. The enemy had no idea what had hit them; now, his team had the upper hand.

Deacon gave Ranger a nod, signaling him to move forward just as the person in the adjacent room started toward them. Deacon saw the exact moment the man realized he wasn’t alone. He pulled his knife from its sheath and launched it directly at the man the way his Uncle Joseph had taught him to throw it years ago. The thin, sharp blade landed and sliced through the muscles and cartilage at the base of the man’s neck.

Gurgling and grasping for the knife, the man fell to his knees. The look of shock and confusion faded as death overcame him. He slumped to the ground, his body twitching and moving as his brain died and his systems shut down. Ranger and he were inside the room and ready for the next contact. Deacon kept his M4 up as he bent down and pulled the knife from his target’s throat. He wiped the steel on the target’s clothes, then placed it back in its sheath. “No one else,” Ranger said. “I’ve got your six, find that damn thing.”

Deacon was already moving, his boots pounding against the rough flooring as he approached the array of equipment. Echo’s sketch of the device flashed in his mind. She’d shown him a crude drawing, enough to give him a mental picture of what he was hunting. His eyes darted across the first cluttered counter, scanning wires, blinking lights, and metal casings. Nothing.

“Cap,” Ranger hissed from his position near the doorway. “We need to move.”

“I know.” Deacon’s reply came sharp and clipped as he pivoted to the next workstation. His patience frayed with every second wasted. “I haven’t found the damn—” He froze mid-sentence, his gaze locking onto his mark. “Check that.”

He slid to a halt in front of a cluttered workstation. The device was half-hidden beneath a tangle of cables. Echo had assured him the wires were unnecessary, so Deacon yanked thesmall metal rectangle free with several brutal jerks. He ignored the sparks that zapped and flew when the connections tore loose. Deacon shoved the device into his cargo pocket and took off.

“Let’s move.” Deacon’s voice was tight. Together, they slipped to the edge of the front door, pausing just short of the opening. He removed the device and shoved it in a plastic bag, sealing it tightly. Echo had warned them water could damage the device, so he wasn’t taking any chances. When he was done, he re-stowed the small metal rectangle and looked over at Ranger. Ranger nodded, and they took one final look out the door toward the jungle.

“Rip. Hit it,” Deacon ordered, his voice low but firm.

“Copy.” Rip’s reply came through the comms. It was only a heartbeat longer before the forest erupted with the sound of snapping wood. The sharp report of the tree was done to cover their movement.

“Bandit?” Deacon asked, scanning the edge of the jungle visible through the doorway.

“Everyone is looking the other way,” Bandit confirmed.

Deacon and Ranger didn’t hesitate. They bolted out of the building. The humid air carried the faint tang of freshly cut wood. In this case, freshly splintered wood. An excited shout from an overwatch cut through the chaos caused by the second tree falling.

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