“Move out in three minutes.” Sunny’s voice crackled in their ears. She was thirty miles away at an airstrip in Wajir, monitoring their every movement through camera equipped drones. “Montgomery, Enzo and Glaze, break off and head toward the southeast end of the property. Go slow as molasses so you won’t be heard. I don’t detect any movement back there, but rebel guards could be hiding. It’s dark and I can’t get a good visual. Kemp and Wes, move along the wall to the front of the compound. Gate is open with one guard sighted inside. He’s pacing. Try to avoid being seen as you head to the northwest corner, but shoot him if you need to. Stay low. Set the explosives, then get the hell out of there. Ninety second delay after the explosion, then Julian, Enzo and Glaze can scale the stone wall near the back of the house and enter. Shoot first and ask questions later.”
They each gave confirmation of the instructions, then Julian scrambled down low and sprinted toward the stone wall in the distance, with Enzo and Glaze following him. Reaching the wall, Julian dropped to the ground, then crawled until he was at about the halfway mark of the wall that lined the back of the property. Glaze remained at the corner, near the eastern side of the structure and Enzo was halfway between them. Once the bombs detonated, they wouldn’t have much time to get over the wall and into the compound to find Mena and Wangari. Each of them would attack the compound from a different entry point to maximize the chance of finding the women quickly.
A warm breeze rushed toward them, peppering his skin with sand. Fingers gripping the M16, he stroked the trigger as his heart beat slowed. The slow metronomic thuds lulling him into the meditative state he remembered from so many missions long ago. Once Wes and Kemp set the explosions, Tubeec’s militia would think they were under attack from the front of the compound. Pouring out of the structure, only a skeletal crew should be left behind to guard Mena and Wangari. Two, maybe three, rebels that he, Enzo, and Glaze could easily overpower.
Julian closed his eyes and imagined seeing Mena again. Wrapping his arms around her, feeling her body next to his. He was so close to getting her back safe, but he couldn’t focus on that. He had to think one step at a time, one move at a time, subdue one captor at a time.
“Explosives set. Detonation in ten,” the words came through Julian’s earpiece.
Ten seconds later, a deafening blast and huge fireball burst into the early morning sky. Chaotic shouts filled the air.
“Two squirters coming out of the front door. A light on in room nearest to Glaze on the east side of the compound, no other movement detected. Wes and Kemp, get the hell out of there,” Sunny said.
A rapid-fire succession of bullets thundered from the front of the CSL.
“We got a problem. They have night vision goggles. Can see us just as clear as we can see them. We’re under fire,” the response came from Wes.
Julian stared at Enzo and Glaze several feet away from him. Gun blasts popped like firecrackers in the night sky. The smoky scent of gunpowder hung in the air.
“Should we go in? Provide backup?” Enzo shouted into the comms.
“No! Stay in your locations!” Sunny said. “Sixty more seconds, then move in.”
Julian pressed his back against the stone wall, his mind chaotic, fighting the urge to ignore Sunny’s orders and take out the rebels attacking Wes and Kemp. But this was the plan. Everything was unfolding as they’d designed. He had to stay and play his part or Mena might not make it out of this situation alive.
Rapid-fire continued from the front of the property.
“I’m hit!”
“Kemp down. Shot in the hip. Two rebels taken out. Gunfire still coming from the front of the house!”
“Get Kemp out of there! I’m coming to get you! Montgomery, Enzo, and Glaze go in now! Do not, I repeat, do not go toward the front of the house,” Sunny said.
“Need headshots gentlemen,” Julian said into the mouthpiece. “We’re fighting a crew built like us.”
“No shit!” Enzo responded.
“Let’s spill some rebel brains,” Glaze added.
“On three. One. Two. Three.”
Julian heaved his body over the stone wall in unison with Enzo and Glaze. In his periphery, he saw the men racing to their designated points of entry.
Julian rounded the corner of the house and stalked slowly toward the side door. Easing toward the door, he dropped to the ground pressing his back against the dirt. He pressed his feet into the side of the house and estimated he was one complete body roll away from being in front of the side door.
The air had gone quiet. In the distance, a bird chirped.
Julian trained his ears for any sound coming from the house.
Raspy breathing grew louder as the soft thud of footsteps cautiously approached. Moving his head from side to side, he saw no threat from the outside. The footsteps were coming from within the building.
As the side door creaked open slowly, Julian rolled his body over stopping when he was on his back again. The bearded rebel, with night vision goggles on his face, scanned the empty yard beyond Julian. The rebel’s M4 Carbine was trained toward the distance, moving slowly. Pressing his feet against the bottom foundation of the house, Julian unloaded two quick shots to the center of the rebel’s head.
The rebel’s gun erupted, spraying bullets wildly as his body dropped backward to the floor. Julian stood to his feet, crouching low, and entered the dark hallway. Passing the first door, he peered inside, eyes sweeping over a disheveled bed mat and abandoned covers. There were five rooms along the hallway and room one confirmed empty.
Julian advanced down the hallway. A figure emerged from the doorway of room two and glanced in his direction. The man wasn’t wearing night-vision goggles and likely couldn’t see Julian standing in the darkness.
The militant went back inside the room. Julian raised his weapon and waited for the man to come out again. Minutes that felt like hours passed. The rebel still hadn’t come back into the hallway. Had he escaped through the window? Was he coming—
