I acknowledge him with a nod. And that’s it. Time togo.
First man in, I jump.
Freefall.
Untouched silence, save the wind ripping past.Bliss, as I ignore gravity pulling at my chest, wicked tension a warning in my ears—in my fucking soul—that the wild rush I’ve been craving for weeks now won’t last more than a few ecstatic seconds.
My chute deploys.
No. I don’t want this. But I can’t fight the inevitable. I soar upwards, and…it’s over. I drift in the dark, through the clouds that won’t last the night, sacred seconds of peace before the ground looms up to meet me, and my feet make contact with the earth.
Silent landings, we’re good at them.
We hit the dirt scattered around the ruins of the bombed-out town, but pull together before the sandy air hits my lungs. Weapons up, we fan out, and I try not to choke on the dust filling my mouth. I fucking hate the desert.
But I hate this eerie quiet more. Ominous, it bears down on us, the welcome party we’ve planned for still hiding in the shadows.
The radio crackles in my ear. “Roll out. South east. Stay tight.”
Vinnie.
His voice settles me, and we move like ghosts through the shattered buildings, chasing down the target we’ve been after for months, our mission tattooed on our collective brain.
Jump. Locate. Neutralise. Ex-fil before any fucker knows we’re here. No drama. No escape and evasion theatrics.
Get shit done and go home. Or at least back to a base with running water and food that doesn’t taste like bland death.
Rubble hits my boots. I weave around it, light on my feet, energy buzzing in my veins.
Keep ‘er lit.
“Stay frosty,” Vinnie murmurs, like he’s in my fucking head. “We’re getting close.”
I suppress a snort.Stay frosty. He’s learned that shite from the US Marines we robbed blind before we did a moonlight flit to the forward operating base, and he won’t stop fucking saying it. Because it makes the rest of us laugh, even now as we creep through this fucking town, shadows on shadows, and find nothing.
Our target?
Not here.
Fuck.
An hour later, we rally in a ditch.
Vinnie pulls us in while Jon and Orion take watch. “Time for plan B.”
The village eight clicks out.
I nod, already psyching myself up for the dusty tab north. Raven and Moth stuff chocolate in their mouths, but I don’t need it. This shit comes easily to me. It’s everything else I have trouble with.
“Hey.” Vinnie zeroes in on me, turning me away from the others. “You good?”
I dead-eye him, showing him the soldier I am—the soldier he knows me to fucking be. “Why are you asking me that?”
Vinnie narrows his eyes, assessing me, funnelling that gaze deeper than anyone else usually bothers. “You seem off.”
“Like all your batshit girlfriends?”
“Watch it. I’ve got a wife now, remember?” Amusement threatens the severity he’s lancing me with. “And you’ve neverstuck around long enough for anyone to be crazy about your daft self.”
