Page 38 of Digit's Deflection
Luck has run out on the deranged fucker; he just doesn’t know it yet. There’s an unspoken agreement between our team that, should any one of us find ourselves in the position to facilitate it, his time on earth will come to an abrupt and permanent end.
“Touchdown in ten, gentlemen,” we hear Knight’s voice over our comms.
There’s a flurry of movement as more than twenty men prepare for landing. Gear is checked once more, and last instructions are issued before the wheels touch the runway. We’ve barely got boots on the ground when the plane begins to taxi for departure.
Gear divvied out, we start the long hike to our destination under the cover of a cloudy, moonless night. Saying that raiding the compound that Tex uncovered – no one’s asking how – will not be an easy task is a gross understatement.
Armatrout has a talent for picking the most inhospitable place, accessible only by air, sea or, on rare occasions, both. He never, ever picks someplace that would be easily accessible by road. And if you were stupid enough to approach on foot, like we are, you’ll have one hell of a hazardous trek on your hands.
And so, here we are, facing that hell of a trek, on unfamiliar turf, with zero light to guide us. A lot of barely audible griping can just about be heard over the comms as we make our way higher and higher up this godforsaken mountain. We’re so over this asswipe and his damn mountains. Making us climb our way up treacherous terrain to get his ass, every single damn time we have to go find him, is enough of a reason to want to kill him.
I mean, there’s a million and one reasons we feel that way, but this isn’t helping his cause in the slightest. But the absolute topper on this shit cake is the video Tex intercepted of Commander Jones being tortured.
Just knowing the absolute hell Indigo would have gone through, watching that video, makes everyone who knows and loves her want to exact revenge on her behalf. And it will be done. Make no mistake about that. That fucker is leaving his cherished mountaintop in a body bag if it’s the last thing we do.
Wolf’s toneless voice warns us of movement up ahead. We take cover as best we can while a scout carefully moves closer to investigate. When it’s found to be nothing more than critters foraging for food, we continue ever onward.
When we think we’re never going to reach our destination, a glimmer of hope comes to lift morale as I spot a familiar outcrop of rock up ahead.
“Ace, you reckon that’s the outcrop from the surveillance images?” I ask, ensuring my voice doesn’t carry in the dark silence.
He studies where I’m pointing for a moment through his night vision goggles, then nods. “Yeah, I reckon. Thank fuck. With every mile we cover, this crap we’re carrying gets exponentially heavier.”
“Amen to that, brother,” Maverick replies. “I’m definitely getting too old for this shit. I’m thinking it’s about time to hand in those papers and stay home with my wife and kids.”
Merlin’s snort fills our ears. “Yeah right. Like that’s ever going to happen. You’re married to the job first, your wife second. They’ll have to carry you out in a body bag one day, combat boots firmly on your feet. You know as well as we do, you’re a lifer.”
Maverick sighs. “You’re right. I know it. Just days like today make me think maybe its an option, you know?”
“I hear that,” Knight replies. “This shit with Armatrout’s got me seriously considering my options too. I hated having to leave Indie to come out and hunt this fucking psycho down.”
“How’s she holding up?” Wolf asks.
“Not good. After she broke down at work the other day, they’ve put her on a forced sabbatical until everything’s been resolved and she’s received the required trauma counseling. Once she’s cleared by her therapist, only then will they allow her to go back.
“They’re rather that than she makes a mistake and costs someone their life or, more like, costs them a lawsuit. So now she wanders the house like a lost soul. She’s barely eating or sleeping, and then only when she conks out from sheer exhaustion, or I force her to eat something.”
“Caroline said she’d swing by to check in on her.”
“That’d do her some good. Caroline’s a tonic for the soul, and she can do with all the company she can get. Thankfully, the girls have all banded together to have a ‘sleep over’ until we get back so she’s not alone.”
“Up ahead,” Merlin murmurs.
Just over the ridge, the very tip of a lookout turret peeks out over the top. Thank God we’re nearly to the target. The downside is this is the most dangerous bit of the mission. Making it from the perimeter to the main building with little to no cover and not getting shot is the challenge.
Knight, Wolf, and Merlin give us our orders and, like the well-oiled machine we’re trained to be, we move out. Fanning out, we encircle the outer security fence surrounding the compound. Once we’re in position, we await our signal.
When we receive it, we then wait for the diversion before Scooter goes to work on taking the electrified fence down without setting off the alarm.
“We’re in, Boss Man,” Scooter informs Knight.
“Proceed,” he responds. “With caution” the words he leaves unsaid, but knows is understood. We’ve been together as a team long enough to know.
Like smoke disappearing in a stiff breeze, we pass through the fence and scatter in our designated directions to work our way through the compound. Mission? To hunt down William Armatrout the fucking Third and find Commander Jones.
Silently, we search the buildings, one by one, taking care of any resistance we meet along the way. The enemy is neutralized by whatever means necessary as we clear each room along our route.
“Target has been located,” I hear Knight whisper. “I repeat, target has been located. Continue your search for the commander, while working your way around to the mainbuilding your last stop. The target is in what’s designated his office on the blueprint.”
