His tail wagged once. He knew.
We rejoined the team and continued moving, the encounter adding barely five minutes to our timeline. Ethan keyed his radio. “Two hostiles neutralized. Non-lethal. Continuing to objective.”
“Cupid copies. Please tell me Rudolph got to bite someone.”
“Rudolph got to bite someone,” I confirmed.
“Beautiful. This is already the best op ever.”
The village appeared through the trees twenty minutes later—a cluster of small homes huddled together in a clearing, their tin roofs gleaming faintly in the moonlight.
Corazón.
It was smaller than I’d imagined. Quieter. A few lights burned in windows, but most of the houses were dark. The dirt paths between them were empty, and the only sound was the distant bark of a dog—not alarmed, just talking to the night.
Jolly’s ears perked at the bark, his head tilting slightly.Another dog. Interesting.
“Focus,” I murmured. “We’ve got work to do.”
Ethan gathered us at the tree line for final coordination. His voice was barely a whisper. “Sectors as assigned. Radio check every ten minutes. If anyone encounters civilians, freeze and wait. They’ll go back inside. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary.”
We all nodded.
“Deliver the cargo. Zero footprint. We reassemble here in ninety minutes.” His eyes moved across each of us. “Make it count.”
The team split. Ty and Jace melted into the shadows toward the southern quadrant. Ethan went west. Andrew had already peeled off to hold at the extraction point. Logan took up his overwatch position on a small rise overlooking the village.
“In position,” Logan’s voice came through my earpiece. “I’ve got eyes on all sectors. You’re clear, Ben.”
“Copy. Moving to sector north.”
Jolly and I headed into the village.
My sector covered eight households spread across a tangle of narrow paths. The first house was dark, a small structure with a clothesline strung across the yard. I checked my intel sheet—Household: 2 adults, 2 children. Needs: food, clothing, antibiotics.
I unslung my pack. Plain canvas bags filled the bottom—each one labeled and packed according to Lauren’s meticulous intel. Food that would keep. Clothing in the right sizes. Medicine for the ailments she knew about from her time at the clinic. On top of those sat smaller packages wrapped in bright paper, some neat, others showing clear signs of Ty’s handiwork.
I placed the canvas bag on the front step, tucked under a small overhang where it would stay dry. Then the two wrapped packages—one in blue paper, one in red—right beside it.
I moved on.
House by house, I worked my way through my sector. Jolly stayed close, occasionally sniffing at the bright packages with his head tilted in confusion. Supply bags made sense to him. Toys wrapped in ribbons did not.
“Ben, status.” Logan’s voice in my ear.
“Four down, four to go. No issues.”
“Ethan’s clear. Western sector complete. Ty and Jace are clear. Southern sector complete.”
“Copy.” Ty’s voice cut in. “For the record, I crushed it. My placements wereartistic.”
“You put one behind a chicken coop,” Jace said.
“The family’s chicken coop. They’ll find it when they do their morning chores. That’sthoughtful, Comet.”
“It’s going to be covered in chicken shit.”
“The supply bag is canvas. It’ll wipe off. And the kids’ presents are on the porch, relax.”
