Alex Lukeman - The Cup

Two physiology technicians Nick called PTs kept an eye on the team, looking for any sign of altitude sickness or symptoms of something going wrong. All through the flight they'd been monitoring the team's oxygen levels, watching for signs of distress.

"ETA, twenty minutes."

The voice of the pilot came over their headsets.

"Saddle up," Nick said.

He helped Selena with her gear and her chute, checking that everything was as it was supposed to be. He didn't let her see his concern about her being on this mission. HAHO jumps made the dangers of normal parachuting seen like a ride in an amusement park.

Ronnie came over after helping Lamont and checked Nick's gear. He made a minor adjustment to a strap.

"How you feeling?" he asked Selena.

"Honestly? Nervous as hell."

Ronnie laughed. "You'll be fine. You'll also be the only woman who's ever done this."

"Sure," Selena said. "Too bad no one will ever hear about it."

"Just remember, when that chute opens it's going to be one hell of a jerk. Be ready for it. After that, it's a piece of cake."

One of the PTs came to where they were standing. "We're four minutes out. Get ready to change over to your oxygen bottles."

At two minutes everyone switched over to personal oxygen. The ramp opened, sucking heat from the plane. They moved toward the back. Selena felt her heart pounding. All she could see through the opening was darkness. The sound of the wind blended in harsh chorus with the sound of the engines.

The jump master's voice sounded in her ear piece. "Thirty seconds."

"Remember to stay close," Nick said to Selena.

They lined up for the jump, Nick first, Selena second, Ronnie and Lamont behind. The red light on the jump indicator turned to green.

"Go," Nick said.

He leapt from the plane. Trying not to think about it, Selena jumped into space after him and popped the chute. It felt as though a gigantic, unseen predator had snuck up behind her and tried to tear her arms off her body.

The cold struck like a hammer through the heavy clothing and gloves she wore. Without the mask her face would have frozen within seconds. She kept an eye on her oxygen gauge and maneuvered the chute to keep formation with Nick, gliding in front of her, a dark blur against a deeper darkness.

Below, the coast of Lebanon fell behind. She took one last look. An intermittent string of lights ran down the coast against the blackness of the Atlantic beyond. Ahead lay darkness and the murderous battlefields of Syria.

Darraya at night from a thousand feet looked like a vision from Dante's Inferno. Fires smoldered in dozens of places, casting a reddish gloom over the doomed city. The smell of smoke and decay drifted in the air. Shattered buildings rose like broken teeth along the desolate streets.

Bright rows of tracers arced through the night below, an eerily beautiful shower of death. Nick had told her there were nine rounds you didn't see for every one you did. An occasional flash from Assad's artillery on the edge of the city was followed by a burst of light somewhere in the ruins.

They landed two blocks away from their target. At the last possible instant, Selena just missed impaling herself on jagged pieces of steel rebar sticking out of the rubble. Nick felt the shock of the landing in his back. As long as he kept moving it wouldn't stiffen up on him, but he knew he'd pay for it later.

They pulled in the chutes, balled them up and dumped them behind a broken wall. Then they stripped off the insulating clothing and broke the containers open for their weapons and supplies.

For this mission, Nick had picked MP7s as their primary weapon. The 4.6 X 30mm ammo fired by the H-K could punch through any body armor made, along with the person wearing it. Each of the guns was fitted with a suppressor and a thirty round magazine. They all had a pistol strapped to their chests and a knife on the thigh.

"Weapons free," Nick said.

They charged their weapons.

Monocular night vision units cut through the darkness and turned the grim landscape into a bizarre painting in green and black. They took some getting used to but Nick preferred them, because they preserved normal vision in one eye. It was too easy to become temporarily blinded by sudden light when both eyes were looking through a unit.

Each carried a radio, survival pack with food and a medical combat pack. They'd brought C4 and detonators and extra loaded magazines for the MP 7s. They had plenty of ammunition if they needed it. They had stun grenades, regular grenades and smoke.

Each was equipped with a personal satellite communication system that let them talk with each other and with Stephanie back in Virginia. Hood was monitoring the mission at Langley. If needed, he could break in. If he did, it meant trouble was on the way.

They tossed the empty containers and high-altitude clothing over the wall to join the chutes. Nick consulted his GPS.

"This way." He gestured.

They moved in single file. By now, Selena had learned the tricks taught by the experience of combat. Her eyes were constantly moving, sorting out images from the night vision unit from her normal vision. At first it was disorienting to see differently through each eye, but it wasn't the first time she'd used the device. It didn't take long to adapt. She was aware of her breath, the sound her boots made on the broken rubble under her feet, the rhythmic pounding of her heart. She could smell herself, a sour odor of sweat, adrenaline and stress.

A stream of tracers shot by overhead, streaks of fire in the night.

Stealing through the ravaged streets of Darraya, she had never felt so alive in her life.

They reached the Syriac church. It had been a large building, almost a cathedral. Part of the roof still stood. The front wall and most of one side wall were gone. The interior of the church was a jumble of broken debris. Pieces of stone and concrete were piled along what had been the front of the building.

"Now what?" Ronnie said.

His voice was quiet. The comm system was sensitive enough to pick up a whisper.

"Adam said there's a trap door somewhere in there. People are using it, so they'll have made some kind of path. No one's going to climb over this wall to read a book. Let's check the side."

They moved down the alley between the church and the building next to it and found an open door. The path was obvious, once you looked for it. They reached the trap door. It was open, thrown back against the rubble.

"Would they leave it open like that?" Selena asked. "That doesn't seem right."

Nick glanced over the edge and saw the stairs leading down.

"There's a light showing down there. It's steep, we'll have to go down single file and the passage is narrow. Pull the night vision once you get close."

Lamont looked over the edge of the opening. "I don't like it. We're sitting ducks for anyone down there."

"We don't have much choice."

"How about we toss a stun grenade in, just to be sure?"

"That's a plan. Reminds me of the bad old days in Iraq."

He took a stun grenade from a pouch on his belt.

"It's probably just civilians in there," Selena said.

"We can't take the chance," Nick said. "If there are civilians, they'll get over it."

When he reached the foot of the stairs, Nick pulled the pin on the stun grenade and tossed it into the room. The sound of the grenade was enormous in the confined space. Selena's ears were ringing even though she'd covered them. Her eyes had been shut tight, but the bright blast of light given off by the grenade sent spots dancing across them.

Nick was into the room in a second, weapon held to his cheek and shoulder. The others were right behind him.

"Place has been torn apart." Lamont kicked at a book on the floor.