Page 9 of Broken Oath

“Show me.”

Fathom turned the screen.

Thermal imaging filled the display. A few scattered heat signatures glowed inside the compound.

Maybe half a dozen.

Certainly not enough to concern a SEAL team.

Hammer relaxed slightly. “See? Easy night.”

Nobody laughed.

Because Fathom wasn’t looking at the compound.

He was looking beyond it.

Rook followed his gaze. “What?”

Fathom zoomed out.

The compound shrank as the surrounding mountains appeared.

Ridges.

Cliffs.

Ravines.

Rock formations.

Every approach route.

Every escape route.

Every piece of high ground.

Then the screen exploded with heat signatures.

Rook stared.

His pulse slammed once.

Hard.

Heat signatures covered the mountains.

Not dozens.

Hundreds.

Enemy fighters hidden along every ridge and inside every ravine. Men positioned among the rocks overlooking the compound.

Watching.

Waiting.

Prepared.