Wind tears across the landing pad hard enough to sting my skin, carrying the sharp scent of fuel and hot metal through the night air.
Darkness has swallowed most of the base already.
Good.
Darkness makes things easier.
Simpler.
You move.
You hit the target.
You bring people home.
No room for anything else.
Lucas climbs into the bird first, checking his rifle one final time before settling near the open side door.
Miles follows behind him, tossing me a headset.
“You look worse.”
I catch it one-handed.
“Appreciate the concern.”
“I’m serious.”
I shove the headset on without answering.
Because if Miles keeps talking, eventually he’s gonna say something too close to the truth.
Russ steps into the helicopter last.
Calm as always.
Controlled.
The kind of man who could walk through hell and somehow make it look routine.
“Satellite picked up vehicle movement near the last known convoy route,” he says over the roar of the blades. “Could be connected. Could be nothing.”
I lean forward immediately.
“Coordinates?”
Russ hands Lucas a tablet.
“We’re still waiting on confirmation.”
Waiting.
God, I hate waiting.
The helicopter lifts hard off the ground seconds later, vibration rattling through the frame as the lights below us slowly disappear into darkness.
Nobody talks much after that.
