John O'Brien - Taken

“Coming in, sir,” Vance whispers in his radio as he draws near the coordinates given.

“Copy, come on in,” a voice answers. The point man takes several more steps before a head rises above a dense patch of foliage. They’ve found the other team.

The wooden walls of the compound lie just a few meters through the trees and across a small open area that has been cut back from jungle. Vance and the LT hunker down in the middle of the perimeter of men keeping a sharp eye on the surrounding area.

“How do you want to play this, sir?” Vance asks.

“We’ll creep up to the edge of the trees and take a last look at the guard towers. If it’s still clear, I want your team to cover as we go over the wall at the southeast corner, then follow,” the LT says.

“Okay, sir. We could just about stroll in through the front gate. Shit, they even left that open,” Vance replies. A scream from within the camp rises loudly and resounds across the jungle.

“What the fuck was that?! Sir,” Vance asks as he turns and aims his suppressed M-4 toward the sound.

“They must be torturing that poor girl. Or worse,” the LT responds.

“I have to tell you I don’t like this. No lights. No guards. Front gate open. Something just doesn’t feel right about this,” Vance adds.

“We have our mission and it’s obvious someone is in there,” the LT replies. “Let’s move.”

They creep to the edge of the jungle and observe the ten foot walls surrounding the various buildings within. Vance eyes the guard towers; the tops of which he sees over the walls. Nothing moves and he doesn’t see any sign of anyone occupying them. Another scream echoes from within the compound. It doesn’t even sound human to Vance and the adrenaline rushes through. He and his team keep an eye on the front and along the walls as the other team materializes from the undergrowth and dashes to the wall; silent shadows moving in the night.

He watches as they deploy tactical ladders and start quietly scaling the rough wall. They glide over the top and disappear into the compound.

“We’re in. Move up,” Vance hear the LT call.

“Okay girls, we’re up,” Vance says and mimics the other team to the wall and over it.

They pause at the top and pull the ladders up collapsing them as they do so. Vance is hesitant about not leaving anyone outside to keep watch and provide for an escape path but orders are orders. He drops to the ground and sees the other team spread in a semi-circle in the darkness close to the bottom of the tower.

Several more howls, apparently coming from the large building in the center of the encampment, echo out into the night. The sounds send shivers down Vance’s back and tighten nerves already stretched taut. The compound is dark and nothing moves. I’m getting way too old for this shit , Vance thinks as the echoes die down bringing silence to the area once again. He’s said that a number of times before yet the call always comes and he always responds. He isn’t quite done with the adrenaline rush as yet.

If you would ask him, he would say he does it for the country and because of the good they do but deep inside, he knows it’s purely for the adrenaline. Yes, there is a big patriotic motivation and that’s precisely why he joined years ago but he is also honest as to why he continues mission after mission. If it was from a purely patriotic nature, he could teach and has been offered those positions quite a few times but he would miss the camaraderie and being out in the field. It’s the ultimate rush and if truth be known, the ultimate competition.

He quickly checks his satellite uplink and finds no signal. That’s not unusual in some areas so he is not overly worried. They still have their radio so communications will be available should they need them. That is the part that is most important. He’s been in a couple of situations when they needed radio communication and it has failed them. Not a pleasant situation when you really, really need support. Not support in thirty minutes or last week but right fucking now. The thought of those times makes him want to do a comm check but he knows it’s just his nerves. The ‘something isn’t right’ feeling is making me paranoid , he thinks crouch-walking up to the LT.

“We’re going to make our way to the main building. Cover us and keep an eye out for that building. It looks like a barracks,” the LT says pointing to another building closer to them.

“Will do, sir,” Vance replies.

“If it looks clear, we’re going in. If you hear firing, grenades in the barracks and cover our withdrawal. We’ll exfil over the same wall. If we separate, rally point is the ridge of our previous overwatch position.”

“Copy that, sir. We’ve got your back.”

The main compound has three larger buildings built up on shorter stilts with stairs rising to the entrances. Scattered about are vehicles of every nature; from smaller Toyota pickups to larger, older transport vehicles. It’s not different from any other terrorist cell compound , Vance thinks as he watches the other team rise and proceed across the open area in the middle of the buildings. They keep to the vehicles as much as possible to minimize their silhouette and time in the open. Vance directs his own team into better positions to cover the team making their way slowly and quietly to the main building. Several shrieks rise in the jungle outside of the walls. They aren’t close but they aren’t far either.

“What the fuck is that?” His point man asks as he kneels near the rear bumper of a small pickup with his M-4 pointed toward the barracks building.

“Fuck if I know,” Vance answers. “Sounds almost like a large cat of some sort.”

“Yeah, right. If that’s a cat, it must be ten fucking feet tall. I don’t want to meet up with it if it is. And, it’s more than one,” the point man says.

“I know. Now shut up and pay attention,” Vance says wanting this to be over and to be out of here soon.

The other team makes their way to the base of the main building. Setting a perimeter around the front, Vance watches as the LT and another creep up the short steps leading to a porch with an overhanging cover. The LT sneaks to a window set into the building to the left of the main door and peeks in. Not knowing what he sees inside, Vance watches as the LT edges to the window on the other side of the door. The hush of the night is almost unsettling but Vance operates in the silences so it’s his friend.

The quiet is split by the sound of breaking glass as the window in front of the LT shatters outward. Vance sees someone vault through the opening and onto the LT before the last of the glass tinkles to the wooden porch. Vance watches as the LT is launched backward with the person on top of him. The other window shatters and screams pierce the night.

The main building front door opens and others rush out. Lights flash as the other team engages those pouring from the windows and doors.

“It’s an ambush. Gold Team, fall back to Blue Team. Blue Team, grenades at the barracks,” Vance yells both into the radio and out loud. Silence is no longer needed. He reaches out and taps his point man on the shoulder, “Get those ladders up.”

A loud scream rises above the compound from the direction where the LT is down with several people now bent over him. The other team members shoot them off the LT but he doesn’t rise after they go down around him. The barracks doors open and others emerge. Vance takes a grenade he set by his knee and arcs it toward the opening along with other grenades tossed by his team.

People are streaming out of the main building and barracks. He wants to lend his fire to Gold Team but they stand between him and the people running out of the building. He doesn’t want to risk friendly fire so he directs his fire to the ones coming out of the barracks. Five searing flashes of light followed by thunderous explosions fill the night. The horde coming out of the barracks building are thrown into the air or onto the muddy ground as shrapnel pulverizes their bodies.