Edward Crichton - To Crown a Caesar

I rolled onto my feet and climbed my way to the top of the dune. On my way up, I accidentally knocked sand on Vincent and he glared up at me as he shook himself clean.

“What have we got?” I asked, pulling out my binoculars and focusing them down range.

Once again, she didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. The view was telling enough.

By the time I focused my optics, two men were already climbing out of the water, their dark figures slowly emerging from the murky depths like in any good Navy SEAL promotional video. I watched four guards fall to the docks before the two figures even climbed onto the wooden planks. Once they hauled themselves up, they cautiously made their way towards the shore — low, slow and silent. A third figure emerged behind them and quietly lowered the dead bodies into the water as the first two men passed by them.

I quickly shifted my attention to the right, and watched as two more guards sitting near the seaside entrance to the courtyard stood from their chairs. They must have noticed something was amiss, but they didn’t have much time to think on it before Wang and Santino of Bravo Team gunned them down with their suppressor equipped rifles.

As gravity pulled them to the ground, all three members of Bravo Team were rushing forward to plant themselves firmly against the perimeter wall. My view was obscured in that moment, but I was able to watch as Wang and Santino rounded the corner of the outer wall’s entrance and disappear into the complex. I shifted my attention to the other known guard positions within my line of sight. Each contained their occupants, seemingly unaware of what was happening around them, and then they too were removed from the game.

Two minutes later, Santino’s voice came over the com. “Alpha Lead, this is Bravo Actual.”

“Go ahead,” I answered.

“Beachhead secure. Give us five mikes to change out of our wetsuits, and regroup at rally point one.”

“Roger, Bravo Actual. Charlie Actual, howcopy?”

“Solid copy,” Bordeaux’s voice came back. “Rally point one, five mikes.”

I sent him a double click and waited with Helena and Vincent for a very long five minutes. When time was up, we rose to our feet and double timed the one hundred yards to the southern end of the beach side perimeter wall. Charlie Team would be coming in from the north. We made the trip in seconds, arriving at the outer wall just before Charlie.

At the head of our three person column, I led Alpha Team forward as we scooted our way along the wall, approaching the entrance Bravo Team had already cleared. I tracked Charlie approaching from the opposite side of the entrance, Bordeaux with his Big Fucking Gun on point.

I reached the corner first.

When Bordeaux arrived, he pulled up short and sent me a nod. I returned the gesture, rounding the corner just as he did. I dropped to a knee while Bordeaux plunged straight through. Helena stood above me offering additional cover.

The immediate area was clear. No sign of Bravo Team.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Bordeaux gestured for both teams to follow him in. I complied, moving into the complex with Helena and Vincent right behind me. We fanned out to the right while Charlie — including Gaius and Marcus — went left.

I took a quick look around. The interior of the courtyard was pleasant but rather unremarkable, decorated with cobblestone pavement, a few hanging gardens scattered about and a fountain with a sizable swimming pool alongside it. It was almost as nice as that four star resort I’d dreamt about a few days ago, sans bikini clad women. There were also a half dozen bodies scattered about, each with neat bullet holes in their chests. Alpha and Charlie quickly went to work concealing them in the shadows.

The job took about three minutes, and there was still no sign of Bravo. Definitely not part of the plan. Helena and I were just about to toss a body into a pile of his friends when we heard a twig snap behind us. Reacting instantly, we dropped the body and spun around, bearing our weapons in the direction of the sound. A single silhouette appeared in the darkness, only to reveal himself as Titus when he stepped into the light. Realizing his blunder, his masked face glanced at the ground in embarrassment.

Two other figures emerged out of the darkness like shades in the night, the more experienced Wang and Santino. One of the masked figures, I assumed Santino, stepped up beside Titus and whacked him in the back of the head in admonishment. The other figure, Wang probably, patted Titus on the shoulder consolingly.

I looked at Helena. She rolled her entire head in an exaggerated gesture of annoyance.

Everyone’s masked faces made the whole scene as comical as a Three Stooges routine.

I stood and moved towards Santino while Helena rolled the body amongst his buddies.

“Sit-rep,” I demanded once I was within whisper distance.

His masked face glanced around the courtyard. “Perimeter secured. Eight additional tangos down and out. There’s only one entrance to the town that we can find and it’s been cleared.” He paused while he consulted the lens situated in front of his right eye and manipulated the screen attached to his forearm. “UAV confirms all sighted tangos in the courtyard have been eliminated. Tagging new targets inside the town. Transmitting.”

I nodded and checked to make sure Alpha and Charlie were done cleaning up the bodies. After confirming that they were, I turned back to Santino before tapping my own forearm screen to call up the information being sent by Santino’s UAV. Red blips popped up at set intervals throughout the town, some stationary, others on patrol. It was a standard security detail found in any legion fort. I watched as four red blips walked past two green ones, the ones representing Santino and me. The distance between us had only been a handful of meters, but they were on the other side of the inner courtyard wall, completely oblivious to our presence.

My heart didn’t so much as skip a beat. While it was pounding at a consistently accelerated tempo, the sensation was normal, and I was focused — on mission — a rarity for me these days.

A ticker in the upper right hand portion of my eyepiece reported forty six hostiles scattered throughout the village, the same number as last night. I clicked my com and radioed Madrina, who sat safe and secure in our forward operating base, little more than a mile away.

“Base, Alpha Lead. Prepare to receive UAV control from Bravo Actual now.”

I nodded to Santino and he returned the gesture with the tap of a finger. In an instant, Santino relinquished control of his UAV over to Madrina. While he could still update intel through his touch screen, Madrina now controlled the flight pattern for the UAV and would be our primary eye in the sky. She was using our spare set of interfacing equipment, something she hadn’t a clue how to use mere weeks ago, but could now operate with a certain amount skill. The hardest part had been convincing her she wasn’t practicing some form of black magic.

“Okay, Jacob,” she said and I winced at her lack of radio discipline. Santino rolled his eyes at the slip up but I pushed it out of my mind. She was doing her job as well as any fish out of water could. I’d had my doubts about allowing her to use anything we’d brought with us from the future, but Bordeaux had vouched for her, and that was good enough for me.

Everything seemed ready to go.

“Flash my eyepiece if you need to update our intel,” I ordered her, tapping Santino on the shoulder at the same time. When he turned, I hooked a thumb towards the door. “You’re on point.” I turned to Bordeaux. “Charlie’s rearguard.”

The Frenchman held his thumb up and signaled for his people to fall in. Helena and Vincent were already behind me, but by the time I looked back at Santino, Bravo Team was already stacking up behind him as he knelt by the door that would lead us into the town. I quickly moved to catch up, Santino already using a fiber optic cable that he had snaked under the wooden door.