by Brent Towns
The plan was to reach the drug factory that night and set up an OP. They would occupy that position the following day and assault the next night. The factory was built on a wide river, and the plan called for two of them, Kane and Troy, to utilize the water to infiltrate the drug lab area and plant charges. Axe would set up the SAW while Cara provided overwatch. Brick would be on Cara’s shoulder as a one-man QRF.
“Axe, hold up,” Kane said into his comms. “Swap with Troy.”
“I’m good, Reaper,” Axe replied.
“Just do it. Everyone, take five.”
After Axe swapped with Troy, Kane sought him out. The big former Recon Marine was seated on a large tree root, taking a drink from his canteen.
“What’s going on, Axe?”
Axe looked up at Kane. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. Troy.”
“How about you spell it out, Reaper?”
Kane nodded. “All right. You seem to have a problem with him being on the team.”
“How can I when I don’t know him?” Axe asked, avoiding the question.
“And there it is. You don’t know him, Axe, so give him a chance. He’s a good operator. Why do you think Thurston put him into the new Special Projects venture?”
“Yeah, well. He’s got to prove himself, hasn’t he?”
“He’s already proved himself to me. Just give him a chance.”
“All right. I—”
“Danger close! Danger close!” the harsh whisper came through the comms. The voice was unmistakably Troy’s.
“Everybody into the jungle,” Kane said hurriedly.
The team took to the green stuff and blended in with their surroundings. Their weapons were suppressed, but they didn’t want to use them unless there was no other choice. It was best to let whoever it was slide right past and go on their merry way. Missing people inspired others to ask questions.
Kane laid down on his stomach. His Heckler and Koch 416 was at his shoulder and ready to use. He blinked sweat from his eyes as he waited for the threat to appear.
Troy’s voice came across the comms again, this time quieter and calmer. “Six tangos inbound. All armed.”
“Are they militia, Reaper Three?” Kane had given his friend Knocker’s call sign for the mission.
Troy’s answer was to break squelch once.
Yes, Kane thought. And for him to signal that way, they must be almost on top of him.
Then came a number of voices followed by laughter. It sounded like they were joking about something, not a good thing to do when on patrol in the jungle. Then again, this was their backyard, and they weren’t expecting Team Reaper to be in it.
The voices grew louder, and so did the passage of the militiamen. Branches cracked as they trod carelessly. Kane shook his head.
Then he saw them. At first it was their heads bobbing above the undergrowth, then the rest as they drew closer. The voices became clearer, and he could see their faces.
They were dressed in an assortment of pants and shirts containing more holes than a golf course. They all wore sweat-stained bandanas, and their faces were grimy and unshaven. They were all well-armed, each man carrying a Taurus T4 assault rifle with webbing that held extra ammunition. However, there was no body armor to be seen.
They walked past the hidden team, oblivious to their presence. The voices slowly ebbed with their passage and then they were gone, swallowed by the steaming jungle.
“Is that it, Reaper Three?” Kane whispered into his comms.
“Roger that. We’re all clear up here.”
“Good catch.”
The team came out from their hiding places and gathered on the trail.
Kane said to Brick, “Go and check our backtrail. Once we start moving again, trail us by thirty meters. That way, we can make sure they don’t surprise us coming the other way.”
“Roger that.”
The team continued moving until dark when they took another break. There were no signs of any other patrols.
Onward they went through the thick jungle. Even though the sun had gone away, the air was still humid and held the dense smell of damp vegetation.
“Reaper One, copy?”
It was Cara.
“Good copy, Reaper Two.”
“We’ve reached Woodstock. I say again, we’ve reached Woodstock. How copy?”
“Good copy, Reaper Two. We’ve reached Woodstock.”
Amapá State, Brazil
It was an hour before dawn, and Kane was taking over the next watch from Cara. He found her in a position where she could use her scope to see the compound where the drug lab was set up. “How are we looking?”
“Just the roving patrols,” Cara said. “Other than that, it’s reasonably quiet. Once the sun comes up, we’ll get a better picture.”
“Get some rest. I’ll wake you if anything happens. Once we know more later we can tweak our plan to suit.”
“Roger that.”
However, instead of going off to rest, Cara lay down beside Kane and closed her eyes. He looked at her and smiled. She’d been with him from the beginning. She and Axe were the only original team members left in the field. Carlos had done enough, and thinking of his family, he left the team. The other was Conrad Hawkins or Hawk, as he’d been known. Unfortunately, he’d been killed on a mission in Guatemala.
Sure, most of the others had been there since day one—Ferrero, Traynor, Reynolds, Teller, and Swift. Thurston had come along a bit later when the WDI needed streamlining, as had Brick, Knocker, and Rosanna Morales, their doctor. But over the many missions they had completed, they had grown into a tight-knit family and had each other’s backs. But the bond between Kane and Cara was special.
After a few minutes, he heard her breathing change as she slipped into a deep sleep. He took her HK417 and did a sweep of the compound.
The night insects started to buzz around Kane’s head, and he had to concentrate to block out their incessant whine. There was a rustle to his left in the undergrowth. Kane turned his head, and from her slumber, Cara said, “That’ll be George.”
“Who’s George?” Kane asked.
“The jaguar.”
“The what?”
“You know what a jaguar is, right?”
“Of course, I know what a jaguar is.”
“Then you know George. He’s fine.”
“Let’s hope he’s not hungry.”
“If he is, you’re stuffed. He seems to like me.”
“Great.”
Cara went back to sleep while Kane waited for the sun to come up. When it finally rose, it brought with it the thick, cloying humidity that was all too familiar to him. By the time Cara came awake, his clothes were soaked with perspiration. She turned her head to him. “I’m beginning to see why Axe hates the jungle.”
She sat up and reached into her pocket for a rag. Then she removed her body armor, followed by her top. Underneath, she wore no bra, just a tank top. She took that off and wet the rag before wiping herself down, trying to get rid of all the salt where everything rubbed. Kane asked, “You want a hand with that?”
She winked at him. “Somehow, I don’t think so.”
Once Cara was done, she put everything back on. “What’s happening?”
“Not much. They haven’t started to stir yet.”
Cara rolled onto her belly and reached for her 417. Kane handed it over, and she did a sweep of the compound. The roving patrols were still out but were undoubtedly ready to change shifts. She said, “Are they still on a five-minute schedule?”
“Pretty much. They are keeping to that time while walking the perimeter.”
She moved the scope and focused on the river, which snaked lazily past the rear of the compound. Her scope traveled slowly over the surface until she saw a swirl in the water. She stopped, and what appeared to be a rough log surfaced. Cara’s lips pressed together. “You and Troy won’t be going in by the river.”
“Why?”
“That’s screwed, then,” Kane said. “Zero Two, copy?”
“Read you Lima Charlie, Reaper One,” Carlos Arenas responded.
“Did you get a good sleep, buddy?”
“Like a baby, amigo. What can I do for you?”
“The infil point is screwed. We’ve got water lizards patrolling the shore.”
“Copy.”
“Do we still have a bird in the air?”
“Not for much longer.”
“Copy,” Kane replied, then he said, “Bravo Four, copy?”
“Copy, Reaper One,” Swift replied.
“Our infil is compromised, so I need a new plan. I need some up-to-date pictures of the compound. Send them to the Toughbook when they’re ready.”
“Will do, standby.”
Five minutes later, Swift came back on the air. “Reaper One, you should have all you need. Bravo Four out.”
“Thanks, Bravo Four. Reaper One out.”
There was movement in the undergrowth, and Brick appeared. “I see you’re both still alive.”
Kane nodded. “You all right to take over?”
“Bright as a button.”
“Good. We’re going back to rejig the plan. Our infil is compromised. I’ll give you an update when I have one.”
“Roger that.”
“Nothing changes except the insertion points,” Kane said. “Take down the perimeter rovers before we set the charges.”
Cara nodded. “It’s the only way.”
Kane looked at the others. “We all get a vote.”
Everyone agreed.
“All right, let’s work it out in full.” Kane stabbed a finger at the picture on the screen. “Troy and I will go in here. Brick and Axe come in from the south. We take out the perimeter guards, place the charges, and get out. The charges will be set to go off just before they change the guard after dawn. It will cause maximum confusion, so we can take them all down then.”
“You want me to set up on overwatch like we worked out?”
“Yes. You’ll be crucial if they start reorganizing.”
“What if you’re bumble-footed like Axe and it all goes to shit?” Brick asked with a grin.
“Then we continue the mission the hard way. But make sure you shoot Axe first.”
Brick snorted. “Roger that.”
“There you go again,” said Axe. “Picking on innocents like me. And I’m not bumble-footed. I can get around this jungle a lot damned quieter than you.”
“Except if you see a snake,” Cara said.
“There’s no harm in being afraid of snakes.”
“I can’t understand it. A big tough guy like you who runs into all kinds of dangerous situations is scared of a little ground-dwelling animal—”
“Reptile,” Axe interrupted.
“What?”
“Reptile, ma’am. They’re reptiles.”
“Maybe we should go back to Australia,” Kane said, enjoying seeing the big man squirm.
“Don’t even go there, Reaper. You think jungles are bad? Everything kills you in that country. They have all the world’s top deadliest snakes except a handful. Even that British guy won’t go there.”
Kane frowned. “What British guy?”
“That Steve Backshall guy.”
“The dude from Deadly Sixty?” Troy asked, speaking up for the first time.
Axe’s eyes widened. “That’s him. He was told to go film one of his shows there and he refused.”
“Why?”
“Because there are more than sixty deadly animals there, that’s why.”
Cara slapped her forehead. “You’re a dick.”
Axe looked at her innocently. “Why?”
She looked at the others. “Who is going to tell him?”
They all moved back with disinterested expressions on their faces. “Tell me what?” asked Axe.
Cara shook her head. “Don’t leave it up to me. I’ll just shoot him.”
Kane gave her a resigned look. “It might be best.”
“Great.”
“I’ll do it,” Troy said. “Can’t be a man down before we even start. Axe, come with me. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.”
Kane eased through the undergrowth, pushing a frond away as quietly as possible. The surrounding jungle was green, made that way by the NVGs he was wearing. Through that illumination, the thin, rail-straight line from the laser sights reached out like a lance finding its next victim.
Behind Kane came Troy. The team leader was impressed with the way his friend had slipped back into the environment of going downrange.
They reached the perimeter of the compound and paused. Kane took a knee and pressed the transmit button on his comms. “Reaper Four, sitrep?”
“Reaper Four and Five in position.”
“Reaper Two?”
“Reaper Two set.”
“Move in.”
Kane took one step forward, and all hell broke loose.
Chapter 10
Amapá State, Brazil
The explosion was loud and bright, so much so that every member of the team gasped and reacted by closing their eyes against the flare in the NVGs they wore. Kane blinked to clear his vision.
“What the fuck was that?” Axe growled into his ear through the comms.
“Keep the channel clear,” Kane snapped. “Zero Two, did you get that?”
“Roger, Reaper. We saw it,” Arenas replied.
“What—” His next words were cut off by gunfire ripping through the night.
He dove to the ground, and behind him, Troy did the same. Bullets tore through the undergrowth, cutting down foliage like a scythe as they went. “Reaper Two, can you see anything?”
“Reaper, I have a—” Another explosion.
“Say again, Reaper Two.”
“Pull back, Reaper One. Pull back.”
Knowing enough not to question her, he issued the command over the net. “All call signs withdraw. I say again, all call signs withdraw.”
Each team member checked in as the night was lit up by whatever was happening. Explosions and gunfire continued to tear the darkness apart as they pulled back. Once back at their OP, Kane dropped beside Cara. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure. There’s a lot of confusion down there.”
“Reaper One, this is Bravo, copy?”
“Read you Lima Charlie, General. Over.”
“Reaper, from where we are, it looks like a large force is attacking the drug compound. They came in from the north.”
“Do you have any idea who they are?”
“Not as of yet.”
“We’ll just sit tight and eat dirt until it’s all over then, ma’am.”
“That might be best.”
“Reaper One, out.”
For the next twenty-two minutes, the explosions and gunfire continued. Then it died to the occasional sporadic shot. After that, nothing, just an eerie silence as the jungle returned to its quiet self.
The sun started to rise in the east, and with it came the heat and the early morning birds. As the landscape brightened, Cara was able to get her first decent look at the mysterious interlopers.
“That’s one for the books,” she said in a low voice while she looked through the scope atop the 417.
“What is it?” Kane asked.
“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say the force down there is French marines.”
“From French Guiana?”
“That would be my guess, yes.”
“What the hell are they doing here?”
“Same thing we are by the looks of it.”
“Zero, copy?” Kane said.
“Copy, Reaper One.”
“We think our new visitors are French marines from across the border.”
“I’ll have the general look into it, Reaper. What are—”
“Wait one, Zero.”
As Kane looked down at the
compound, Cara asked, “What are they doing?”
The marines had organized six prisoners in a line in an open area of the compound. One of the marines—they assumed he was an officer—stood apart from the rest. He said something and waved his hands as he did. Two marines broke away from the others and dragged a single prisoner forward.
“This isn’t good, Reaper.” There was concern in Cara’s voice.
Without hesitation, the officer drew his sidearm and shot the prisoner in the head.
“Shit,” Kane hissed through clenched teeth. “Zero, they just shot a prisoner. Please advise.”
“Wait one, Reaper.”
“You’d better hurry up. They’re about to shoot another one.”
The two marines had returned to the line of prisoners and were dragging another one forward. They forced him to his knees in front of the officer, and the man shot him in the head as well.
“Damn it, Zero.”
“Stand down, Reaper One.” It was Thurston.
“Ma’am?”
“You heard me. Let it play out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
A third prisoner was brought forward and placed at the feet of the sadistic officer. This time, however, the bound man wasn’t shot in the head like his compatriots. He was shot in the leg.
“He’s after information,” Cara said.
“Maybe,” Kane replied.
The sharp crack of the handgun reached out again as the prisoner was shot in the other leg. “This is horseshit,” Kane growled.
The officer shot the prisoner a third time.
Kane put out his hand. “Give me your weapon, Reaper Two.”
Cara turned her head to stare at Kane. “What are you going to do, Reaper?”
“I’m putting an end to this.”
“Reaper—”
“Your weapon,” he grated.
“If you shoot that officer, you’ll bring all kinds of hell down on yourself.”
“Give me the damn weapon.”
Cara sighed and passed the 417 to him. Kane took it and tucked the butt into his shoulder. He looked through the sights until he was assured that he had a good bead on his target, then he squeezed the trigger.
The French marine officer’s head snapped back, and he dropped like a stone. Kane pressed his transmit button and said, “Zero, Reaper Team has been compromised. We’re pulling out.”