“They’re in here and onto us,” I say and flick my selector switch to auto. A shriek sounds from the other side of the door.
“You think?” Greg says as a slam hits the double doors. The doors bow inward but are stopped by the bar through each of the handles.
“Fuck me,” Robert says bringing his M-4 up aiming at the doors. I hear the click of his M-4 as he slides the selector switch. The sudden jolt of adrenaline is a physical presence in each and every one of us.
“Greg, the chutes,” I yell grabbing one of the later packed rigs off the pegs. Greg quickly grabs another hoisting it on his shoulder and bringing his M-4 to bear on the doors.
The doors bang partially open again. The rod slides part way through one of the handles and is on the verge of falling out altogether.
“Echo Team, we’re leaving,” Greg says.
I touch Robert’s shoulder and nod toward the outside doors and the light. He nods and we begin backing up quickly with our carbines aimed at the doors where night runners are about to enter. We make sure to keep our aim points away from the two soldiers who were by the doors and are backing up as well. Screams fill the room from just a few feet away with only a set of doors between us and them. Another slam pushes the doors open a little before they swing back closed. The rod falls from the handles to the concrete floor with a ringing metallic clang. We are now only a door slam away from however many night runners are in the other room.
I open up and sense only a few of them but in this enclosed room, a few will be too many. I sense a quick, startled series of images before shutting down again. Robert is backing with me and the other team members are to the side of us. Greg is offset in front with the other two who were by the door. A silence ensues and we can only hear the panting of our own breaths. The room may be smaller but everything is happening rapidly and yet slowly. The bangs against the now unblocked door are happening quickly but it seems we are backing to the outside door very slowly. If the night runners enter, it will be mayhem and we will only get a few rounds out before they are upon us.
Another metallic bang against the doors and they both fly inward. Shrieking night runners pour into the small room immediately behind the opening doors. The room lights up with flashes as Greg and the front two team members open fire on the first to enter. Two night runners stop as if they hit an invisible wall. One is launched heavily against the far open door, hits it with a thud and slumps downward. The second is flung backwards and disappears from view. Others enter right on their heels.
The safety of light is near but seemingly far as we are still encapsulated within the darker reach of the room. We are backing steadily but we will be caught if we turn and run. We continue backing quickly as Greg and the other two open fire again. Three night runners enter through the ones falling. They crouch as if about ready to launch at our team members in front. I don’t have a good line of sight to add my fire. The night runners pause, howl, and turn back through the doors into the other room.
I look down seeing a lighter shade of concrete under my feet. We have reached the light pouring in from the outside. The night runners must have known they would be launching themselves into the daylight. One of the far doors swings slowly closed. The other is held open by a night runner lying on the cold, concrete floor.
We pour outside and into the shadow of the building. The heat envelopes us feeling even warmer after coming from the coolness within. Our breaths come out in gasps as we shake off the intense adrenaline rush. Here in the radiant light, the last few moments seem a touch surreal even though it happened only seconds ago. I sure do hate darkened buildings. They don’t seem to like me much either.
My heart is pounding in my chest and it feels like I just can’t catch my breath. Greg drops his chute on the ramp as the outside doors close with a soft clang. “That was fucking close,” he says.
“You got that right,” another of his team says.
I am staring at the now closed double doors. The clang of their closing brought a deep feeling of dread within. Well, not perhaps as deep as when I first sensed the night runners within but I nevertheless have a coldness in the pit of my stomach. I drop my chute to the ground still looking at the doors. I hear the helmets Robert had looped around his arms by the straps hit the ground. Both of them notice me eyeing the doors and turn to look.
“What, you don’t think they’re coming out do you?” Robert asks bringing his M-4 up slightly.
“No, but you know what this means don’t you?” I reply.
“What?” Greg asks as his breathing settles. Red Team formed around us on our exit and all are looking at me.
“The night runners can manipulate and open doors. Not locked ones perhaps but definitely unlocked ones,” I say.
I see eyes gears turn in the minds around me. Some eyes grow bigger as the meaning of what I said sinks in.
“What do you mean, sir?” Denton asks.
“Well, those are the only doors in,” I say pointing to the two sets of doors. “They didn’t break their way in so they had to open those doors. They had to know what they were and how to use them. Whether by accident or not, they can open them.”
“All they had to do was push on them though,” Denton says still a touch confused and not really getting it. I don’t blame him. Adrenaline is still flowing and it can sometimes confuse the logical part of the mind as the system is in a fight or flee mode.
“But they had to open them to get inside in the first place,” Robert says. “They wouldn’t be alive if they couldn’t have gotten out. And they wouldn’t be in there if they got out and couldn’t open the doors to get back in.”
Denton now joins the others with wider eyes. The ramifications are large and it was one of the things I worried about. At least we know now. But the ramifications could be even further reaching. Could they operate doors if they had turning handles? And if that’s the case, can they get inside the aircraft or any other place? They hadn’t in the nights we’ve been out on the ramp but we can’t put it past them to be able to, I think.
“One thing for sure is that we won’t be able to positively tell if night runners are inside a structure by broken doors or glass anymore,” I say bending to pick up the chute again.
We’ll have to tie the crew door shut and chain the rear ramp closed from here on out if we have to stay in an aircraft overnight. I make a mental note to include that in the briefing this afternoon. I want to plan the infil with Greg first. Then we’ll cover the drop itself and the plan for the next day with the others. The adrenaline is beginning to fade leaving me feeling like a limp noodle. It’s a long day of planning ahead followed by a long night. We drag our equipment back to the aircraft. Robert walks alongside carrying the helmets while I hump the rig.
“Thanks for letting me go in,” Robert says.
“What? Oh, uh, don’t thank me for something like that,” I say. “We go into a building with night runners and you thank me for not only letting you go in but for me taking you in. Somewhere down the line I’ve gone drastically awry with your upbringing. You should be kicking me in the ass for dragging your butt in there.”
He smiles knowing I’m not serious. Well, not terribly serious. That was close though. Of course, anytime a night runner issues one of those shrieks, it’s too close. What kind of a dad am I that his son thanks him for taking him into such a place. I shake my head thinking over the times we’ve shared. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done half of the things with him that I have. Maybe that one time he collided with the corner of the door frame hard enough to imbed a paint chip in his forehead did something to him after all. I of course had nothing to do with said collision. Nope, not one little bit.
“Are you really going to jump tonight?” He asks eyeing the chute hanging on my shoulder by one strap.
“Yeah, I’m guessing so. Not really sure why at this particular moment in time as we walk across this fucking hot ramp but I guess I will,” I answer.
“Aren’t you worried about it? I
mean seeing it’s been a while,” he continues asking.
“Let’s see. Out of date packing on the chute, at night over unfamiliar terrain hoping to not jump into a nest of night runners in the midst of a feeding frenzy, and if we do hit our mark, then again it’s into an unknown and a potential group of bad guys. That’s also assuming we hit our altitude right and I don’t bounce a mile back up. What’s to worry about?” I reply.
“I’m just kidding,” I say seeing a stricken look cross his features. Sometimes my humor misses its mark widely. “I’m a little worried but not more so than any other time. If I wasn’t a little worried, then I’d be worried. Hey, if the spirits were going to take me, they’d have done so already. It’s not like I try to get them to open the door but I’ve also given them their chance a hundred times over. I’ll be fine.”
“If you fear death and think about it all of the time trying to avoid it, it will come seeking you. It’s like playing sports or when we’d be off gallivanting in the hills, if you think about getting hurt and ease up trying not to get hurt, that’s when you do. It’s not that you can go seeking it either. If you keep your awareness about you and steer clear of stupidity, things work out. The hard part is determining between whether something is a valid risk or just stupidity,” I say continuing.
“For some reason I know that, that you’ll be okay I mean, but that doesn’t alleviate the worry on my end. I just hope I do it right,” he says.
“You’ll do just fine, Robert. I have all the confidence in the world in you,” I reply patting his shoulder to which he smiles.
“And look, with regards to having you join me, the scales on the experience versus wanting to keep you safe swing each day. But I’m not going to be around forever. Yeah, I know, hard to believe huh?” I say with a smile. “So you have to learn how to lead and make the right decisions. Only experience can give you that. That and a good head on your shoulders but you already have that.”
“But there are plenty of people to lead. Lynn, Drescoll, Gonzalez, Greg, lots of others,” Robert says as we draw near the open 130 ramp. We drop our gear but both know the conversation isn’t over for either of us. The teams walk wearily by up the ramp and into the aircraft. Robert and I sit in the shade with the massive tail looming above us. Bri walks up and sits with us listening.
“True and they’re damn good at it too. Better than me if truth be told but here’s the thing and it may only be true for me. And this is only between you and me. I think the only reason I’m still around is because I’ve been allowed to lead in times past. I think if I’d had to follow all of the time, I wouldn’t have made if this far. Don’t ask me why because I don’t really know that one myself. I just know it,” I say. “There are times when I know when I have to do something alone because I don’t want the distraction of worrying about others; because I know the skills I have will be enough to see the task done. But there are also times when I know I need others and I want them and their individual skills and gifts. Each and every one has their own special gift which can save your life without you even knowing it. A team blends and becomes a single entity made up of all of those skills. That’s what a leader does and is, a person that is a catalyst that allows those skills to blend into one and the one others look for to make a decision. It sometimes doesn’t matter what the decision is as long as it appears it is the right one and makes sense; as long as a decision is made,” I say feeling winded but trying to impart what little wisdom I might possess. I might also just be adding a lot of hot air to an already warm day. Maybe I was the one who single-handedly brought on global warming just by talking. It’s possible.
“It doesn’t matter what the decision is, just make one. Talk about it or think about it later, right?” He says with a smile. The smile is because that’s something I used to say to him a lot when he was younger and couldn’t make a decision. It’s good to know that some of what I’ve said in the past has been heard.
“Exactly,” I reply.
“Remember when I would stand in the candy bar aisle forever and couldn’t decide which one to get. You’d say, ‘Just pick one. If you get home and feel you wanted the other, well, then you’ll know next time right’,” he says.
“Yeah, maybe I was a little hard on you sometimes. I just didn’t want to stand in that candy bar aisle forever and we would have. And you, young lass,” I say looking at Bri, “we did spend days with you trying to decide.” Bri smiles thinking back to those days.
“I just don’t know how to become a leader like the others,” Robert says.
“First of all, you already have. Or at least started,” I say. “You both have.”
“How so?” Robert asked puzzled. Bri tilts her head to the side puzzled as well.
“Well, who flew us here making decisions and delegating tasks? Who made the hard decisions on a pretty significant weather divert?” I ask rhetorically.
“But that’s different,” Robert says.
“My turn. How so?” I ask.
“Because I knew how to fly it and get us here,” he answers.
“Bingo. You knew how to do something and how to use the skills of others to get to a certain place,” I say. “It’s no different than leading in other circumstances. If you know something with some degree of intimacy, you can lead in it. That’s why I give you both the additional training, so you can learn how to do something. You need to think along those lines when we’re training, that you’re learning something that you can lead others in. And you Bri, you know the systems and are teaching others and leading them. It’s all the same thing.”
“But there are others who know how to do things and can’t lead. And some who the others don’t want to follow,” Bri says.
“That’s very true. You have to have a degree of understanding others and what they’re going through. Every person is different. They have different experiences and ways of dealing with shit, and you have to find out how they respond effectively. You have to show that you have a measure of compassion without it interfering with your task. Sometimes you have to tell people to just suck it up. You’re their leader, not their best friend. The bottom line, however, is if people believe you will get them through a situation, they’ll follow you through it. Show you care about them at the same time and they’ll follow you anywhere,” I reply.
“Makes sense,” Robert says. “How do you learn that though?”
“Study people and watch their reactions to different things. And don’t ever fake compassion or understanding. People, especially soldiers, will see through that in a heartbeat. Always be yourself. The other thing with regards to leading is always study past actions in your head. Study mistakes and the things done right. Analyze every detail and think how you could or would have done it differently. Think up scenarios, not matter how wild or crazy, and think your way through it. If you come to an impasse, back up and rethink it. Throw odd shit in on the fly and think about how to take care of it. Think on it until your response becomes instinctual because there are many times you won’t get to think it through, you’ll only have time to react,” I say. The both sit quietly with the gears turning in their heads. Heat waves shimmer in the distance turning the end of the runway and the buildings beyond into a blur.
“One last thing, no matter how right you do things, you may lose people. That’s just a fact. You can’t account for every variable. That doesn’t mean you did it wrong. Although you may feel bad, it doesn’t always mean you did something wrong. Analyze it as with anything else but move on. If you think too much about one life that is lost, you’ll forget about those who are still living,” I add watching the shimmers dance. “Don’t forget, just forgive.”
“Lynn always says that you’re too hard on yourself and blame yourself when we’ve lost people in the past,” Bri says.
“She told you that?” I ask.
“No, I’ve just heard her talking to herself when she didn’t know I was around,” Bri answers.
“Well, you take my advice on this on
e because I obviously have no use for it,” I reply.
“Haha, very funny, Dad,” Bri says.
“Hey, they can’t all be gems,” I say.
“And in your case, none of them can,” Greg says. We all turn to see him standing at the top of the ramp.
“Don’t you have a hole you have to go fall in?” I say waving him beside us.
“See, your proving my point,” he says walking down and sitting.
“You good?” I ask Robert.
“I’m good,” he answers.
“Are you up for talking about things and planning some?” I ask Greg.
“Anytime,” he answers.
“Okay, I want you to play devil’s advocate to a degree and let’s talk our way through this, especially the jump,” I say.
“No worries on that as I’m already a little leery of it,” Greg says.
“We have a waxing moon past half so if it remains clear, we should have some light to guide us,” I say beginning. “So let’s look at that for starters.”
“Day versus night?” I ask.
“Well, day is better to jump for obvious reasons. We can guide in better and allow for any alterations earlier but we can be seen and they may even notice the aircraft overhead. Night is riskier, again for obvious reasons, but they will most likely be inside and won’t see either us or the aircraft. Plus, if they are inside, any aircraft noise will be hidden. Not like they can hear one that high anyway,” Greg answers.
“How about a sunset drop?” I ask.
“Not as risky as a night drop but there is the chance of being seen. If timed right though, they should be inside although we don’t know their habits being walled up like that. They may hang outside until later,” he says.
A New World: Awakening Page 19