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Mac nodded. “Got him a few minutes ago in the same burst that hit Marcus.”
Balaban had claimed a staff victim after all.
Before we’d had any time to process what was going on, Marcus got the call from the evac chopper. We gathered what gear we could, Tyler escorting the staff up to the rooftop. Moments later, we were on the helicopter and taking off, rising higher and higher as we watched the consulate swarm with mercs. The last image in my mind of the mission was of Balaban, standing on the roof with his hands on his hips, that same smile on his face as if to suggest that he knew this wasn’t over, that he’d see us again in time.
If that had indeed been the case, it was looking like he was getting his wish.
Back in the present moment, I watched out of the corner of my eye as Marcus rubbed his wound, as if the mere mention of the man that had given it to him was enough to make it hurt again.
“Fine,” he growled. “If it’s Balaban, then it’s Balaban. Maybe I’ll get a chance to even the score for the man he killed… not to mention what he did to me.”
“What’s the mission, Mac?” Tyler asked.
Mac nodded, eager to get on with it.
“Mission’s in Croatia, down the very tip of the coast a hundred kilometers near the town of Gruda. Got some more intel on Balaban. Turns out he’s the son of a general killed during the Balkan conflicts of the 90s. Got aims to cause as much trouble as he can with the legitimate government in hopes to even the score for what he believes they did to his father.”
“So, he’s basically a bad penny they can’t get rid of,” I said.
Another nod from Mac. “More or less. He and his small army of a few hundred men raid villages for supplies, disappearing into Bosnia whenever the heat gets on them. That changed, however, when he decided to take over a compound near the southeastern border, make it a little base of operations for whatever other trouble he might want to cause in the region.”
“A compound?” Tyler asked. “Just some random compound in the middle of nowhere?”
“Not random,” Mac said. “It was an old military base that dates all the way back to World War II, actually. But it hadn’t been used in a military capacity for over two decades. Since then, it’s been used as a base of operations for the Catholic Church – a missionary operation.”
“Shit,” I said, sitting back, the issue dawning on me. “And let me guess—Balaban isn’t too keen on sharing.”
“Yep,” Mac replied. “There were around fifty missionaries in total. Most were out in the field when Balaban moved in and were easily able to get clear. Four in the compound, however, remained to make sure some of the sick and injured they’d been caring for were able to be evacuated. They were, but the missionaries weren’t. So, our operation is to evac the three remaining missionaries.”
Tyler cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Wait, you just saidfourmissionaries.”
Mac’s expression turned grim. Didn’t take a genius to put it all together.
“The mission’s moved up to two days from now. And the reason for that is Balaban decided to execute one of the missionaries to make a point. He’s demanding that the Croatian military essentially cede the lower arm of the country to him, believe it or not.”
“What, he wants to make his own little country?” I asked. “Is he insane?”
“Insane, delusional, what’s the damn difference?” Adam asked. “Either way, he’s a dangerous madman and needs to be taken out.”
“That’s what the Croatian military has in mind,” Mac said. “And that’s where we come in. We’re being paidbigto move in and evac the three remaining missionaries. Once that’s done, we give the all clear to the military to wipe the place off the map with long-range artillery. They’re done playing around with Balaban. They’re ending this once and for all.”
“Good call on their part,” Marcus said, his voice tight with anger. “The fewer pricks like him in the world, the better. Hell, give me the chance and I’ll take him out myself.”
“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Mac said. “We want this mission to go nice and smooth. The Croatian military is coordinating with us, planning on running some distraction ops in the region. With any luck, the compound will be nearly empty, and we can simply sweep in and rescue the missionaries without firing a single shot.”
“Just saying,” Marcus added. “If a shotdoesneed to be fired, I want to be the one to do it.”
“What about the B team?” Tyler asked, referring to the usual group of mercs to whom we typically contracted out our missions.
“The Croatians wantedusfor this operation, not anyone else. Between our reputation and our experience with Balaban, I guess they figured we were the best bet for the job.” Mac ran his hand through his hair. “Who’s getting the twins tonight?”
I nodded. “I’m on duty to go pick them up.”
“Alright. We’ve got tons of intel to go over, not to mention planning our actual assault on the place. Let’s spend today getting that sorted out, then finish packing our gear tomorrow.”
The rest of us made noises of approval. With that, we went to work. The hours flew by as we planned, drawing up how we were going to get in and make the extraction with minimal fuss. We were all roughneck men, not one of us afraid to get our hands dirty, whether on the ranch or in the field. Still, one of the first things you learned when running ops was how quickly they could go sideways. The infil and exfil mission was planned to the letter, and if all went according to plan, we’d be in and out with the missionaries without having to fire a single shot.
An alarm from my phone chirped.
