Page 70 of Ravens
“Mercury, position one, check,” Carter responds first. “Standby for the balloon.”
“Blitz, position two, check,” August says.
A sense of euphoria blooms in my mind at hearing their code names revealed. One more piece of the puzzle.
“York, position three, check,” he breathes out, and it sounds like he’s doing something.
William swings his rifle, searching for me on the scaffolding, but I wait as he raises his barrel slowly, checking it level by level.
“Position four? Tripoli?” His voice comes through again, but I wait for him to realize I’m watching him, rifle trained. He stops when he sees me on the roof.
“Tripoli, position four, check,” I whisper and give him the finger.
His head pops up from behind his scope, and I smile at the look on his face. The irritation. After a moment, I reset mysights on the Agency building and resume a relaxed posture while we wait on Carter.
I begin softly singing “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac. It calms me. Helps me regulate my breathing as I focus down the scope intently.
“Quiet on comms,” William grumbles.
“I like that song,” August murmurs.
“Me too. Keep going,” Carter adds.
Smiling at everyone overriding William, I take up the chorus in my raspy, deeper than you’d expect, singing voice. I trail off as heavy breathing picks up in my ear, and then there is a gentle hiss.
“Mercury set, balloon ready.” Carter says.
“Position two, Blitz, you’re a go.” William’s voice cuts in and out.
I locate August at the end of my scope as he comes down the street. He pauses in front of the building, checking something in his hand, then looking up again like he’s confused. Turning around slowly, he stops, facing the building again, and then frowns at his hand before putting it in his pocket and approaching the building.
It’s hard not to laugh, because I believe he’s as lost and confused as he looks. “All right, Brad Pitt,” I say quietly with a smile.
“Man of many talents,” Carter chimes in.
August looks over his shoulder. “If only I had his hair,” his voice cuts in, and I stifle a laugh.
“Yeah, it’s only the fucking hair that’s lacking,” William says gruffly, and I shake silently as the laugh grows.
“Look sharp.” York’s voice cuts through the humor as August presses a button beside the door.
I take a breath, still smiling and watch as the door opens. A conversation we can only hear August’s side of ensues, and then he walks through the door, disappearing behind the reflective glass.
“The play is live,” William says evenly.
“Roger,” Carter acknowledges. “Three minutes and counting until the balloon pops.”
“Yep,” I mumble as I train my rifle on the door.
Three minutes feels too long, though. Off the scope, I gaze across to William. With the naked eye, he’s just a small black figure a few buildings away on my right. I don’t have a line of sight on the others though. Carter and York are down a block and positioned right around the corner. The car bomb will go off just out of the Agency’s line of sight, too. It’s nice to joke on comms, but shit is about to get real.
I take a slow, deep breath and then let it out in a controlled, meditative stream as I settle back onto my scope.
BOOM.
It sounds so massive that I pop off my scope and look to the left in surprise as the sound ricochets off the surrounding buildings, magnifying everything. Smoke rises, and I whip my attention down the scope.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter.
