Page 115 of Agency
Simple was the SOP. Too many moving parts, and the operational machinery was liable to break. So, we’d used our basic burner smart phones to pull up the most rudimentary of sat imagery on publicly available servers, and Morgan had found a path he could use to get into position. We’d lose some time driving him there, but getting him into position would pay dividends, especially if we needed the overwatch.
As Morgan had slipped into the scrubby trees and begun making his way to his future sniper nest, Jericho had cleared his throat and brought my attention over to him. My eyes had flickered down to the 9mm in his outstretched hand, his fingers firmly around the barrel as he offered the weapon grip-first.
“Take it,” he’d said, giving the pistol a shake without looking towards me. “You’ll need it.”
“Is it loaded?”
He nodded.
Talk about the mouse trusting the lion! I could have reached over right then and ended him. Even at the speed we’d been traveling, I would have only risked going over a relatively short stretch of the Rimrocks.
“Thanks. But, I’d prefer one of the carbines,” I’d replied as I took the offered weapon. “They don’t hurt my wrists as much.”
“Keep it,” he’d said with a nod. “Backup.”
I’d tucked the weapon away, and we’d continued in steely silence, the coming mission bearing down on us with more and more weight with every passing moment. More twists and turns, and the sun dropping lower and lower in the west with every mile, until finally we were approaching the turn for the road leading down into Aunt Val’s neighborhood.
Jericho had glanced back, then, to Andrew. “Give her my weapon. It’s clean and ready. I’ll take the other.”
I’d blushed as I looked back towards the nodding and grim-faced, but somehow still kind of smiling, Andrew.
Because, what more could a soldier like Jericho do to show he trusted me?
???
I still felt the flush in my cheeks as we now crunched up my Aunt’s walkway, carbines gripped but still hanging, our coat pockets stuffed with extra magazines and the back of my pants bulging with the tucked 9mm.
He’d armed me. He had me running point. Jericho trusted me, and I found myself trusting him.
Oh, what a world!
The approach was normal, and my gaze flickered from the house’s sharp angels to the garage, and back again. We’d have to break into the detached secondary building to see if all her vehicles were here, and that would likely set off alarms. Bypassing the garage, we continued on, heading right for the house’s front door.
“How we looking, Charlie?” Jericho’s voice was a tight, tense grumble over the com fitted into my ear, perfectly matching the sound of the gravel crunching beneath my feet.
“Rear of structure appears clear of hostiles, Alpha,” Morgan replied from his spot atop the Rimrocks. “There is a secondary floor, maybe a basement, visible only from the back. Clear angles of fire to interior. Bravo Team, you are clear for approach.”
Glancing up towards where I knew Morgan was supposed to be perched on the cliff, I imagined that I could see the comforting flash of his scope as the last of the setting sun’s light caught the glass. I knew that was just fanciful thoughts, though. Morgan was well trained, and would keep glare to a minimum.
But, still… Having an eye in the sky keeping overwatch while Andrew and I advanced to Aunt Val’s home was nice. Because we still had no idea what was going on with her.
Was she steadfastly in Management’s corner? Had operators gotten here first, and put her under lock and key? Had she bolted for some safe house and left only booby traps in her wake?
The only way we’d learn any answers was by walking up this gravel path, right to her front door. And so we kept going.
“Doorbell first?” Andrew asked low. “Or just breach?”
“Hold up, Charlie,” Morgan said through the coms as we hit the minuscule front porch. “Movement within primary structure, visible through rear windows.” The house interior lights cut out as one, as if a single breaker tied to the entire house had been flipped, and Morgan swore. “You guys see that?”
“We did, Charlie,” I said, voice barely louder than a breath. “Looks like someone knows we’re coming.” I didn’t glance back to Andrew: “Breach, I’ll cover.”
How long since I’d breached like this, going hard and fast and loud, with my enemy ready to lay me out?
He moved around with that fluid grace I’d found so attractive from the get-go, his body like a powerful, predatory animal’s. I brought Jericho’s AR-15 up and covered Andrew as he delivered a solid kick to the door to the left of the door knob, partially caving in the wood and sending splinters flying. Then Andrew was delivering another two kicks in rapid succession, slamming back the door against the interior wall.
The second the path was open, I was proceeding through with weapon raised and adrenaline already filling my veins.
Five steps in, my muzzle sweeping the entry way and the living room beyond, my eyes went to a trip wire two feet in front of me, and level with my shins. I stopped hard, my mind filling with eminent explosions and maybe death. Less than a second later, the grunt of a metal canister against drywall sounded to my left, before clattering onto the ground in front of me with the harsher strike of steel against ceramic tile.
