Headquarters believed this was the sign they’d been waiting for. Team Specter was told to stay in place, to organize their gear, and be ready to move out.
Aberlour passed on the orders to his men, still uncertain what they’d do with the children once the order came to get the fuck out.
As his shift ended and Oli came over to replace him, he shot him a confident smile.
“Marcus taught the youngest one the alphabet,” Oli told Abe, obviously forgetting every word of Abe’s advice that they should be treated just like landmines.
“Headquarters is getting ready to move in the other Special Forces teams,” he told Oli.
Oli scowled.
“I heard,” he said with an unhappy nod, clearly displeased that Aberlour wasn’t excited by the achievement of a four-year-old orphan.
Sighing and glancing quickly at the child, Aberlour did feel somewhat guilty, but he wasn’t sure what he should do.
“We’ll leave them whatever provisions we have left. I have cash—it might help,” he offered. Oliver’s gaze softened, then hardened immediately, yet another idea brewing.
Abe didn’t think he was going to like it, but he didn’t have time to worry about it.
“Get in position.” Abe nodded towards the scope he’d set up that had been left unattended for far too long already.
Oliver hesitated, frowning heavily, before turning towards the scope.
Aberlour couldn’t stand the emotional distance that now existed between them, and he yielded first.
“I’ve got your six,” he told Oliver, gently clasping his forearm.
Oliver sighed and nodded.
“And I’ve got your scope,” he responded with a slight smile that eased Aberlour’s worries about the two of them.
On the morning after their fourth night of monitoring the rat’s nest, Headquarters called for an update. The team was tense as JD finished his report of their observations and then took notes on new information from their commander.
Aberlour was sitting against the wall, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, preparing to take the next shift. Oli was sitting next to the children, an abandoned deck of cards on the floor next to him. After terminating the transmission, JD filled them in on what he’d learned.
“Ranger deployment tonight. We’re on lookout liaison duty. There’s intel coming in about a special delivery to be made to the rat’s nest. As soon as we radio in confirmation that the delivery is here, Rangers are coming in. They’ll be posted not far from the village—waiting for their orders to move in.”
It was unusual for them to get this much data. Generally, they only got about half of the intel on a mission—to minimise the risk of a leak.
“What’s being delivered?” Ghost asked, eyes remaining fixed on the rat’s nest.
“They don’t know,” JD said, shrugging. “They intercepted communications, but—the conversations were all very vague.”
“How are we supposed to know if it’s been delivered if we don’t know what they’re delivering?” Marcus’ annoyance with the brass came through loud and clear. It wasn’t the first time that their commanders had issued orders that made no sense. Complaining helped to let off steam, if nothing else.
“Beats me,” JD said, shrugging. “Guess we’ll see tonight.”
The team began organizing their gear now that they had a deadline to work with.
Aberlour studiously avoided Oliver’s gaze he as finished his preparations to begin his shift.
The children were sleeping. The team had rigged a makeshift bed with some of their bags and donated one of their extra blankets. The two little girls were huddled together as they slept after having stuffed themselves on MREs.
“I’ve got something,” Marcus said, voice low but sharp. “Vehicle approaching—heading your way, Abe.”
Abe took a deep calming breath and slowly adjusted his scope to scan the street. In the nearly pitch-black village, it was easy for him to spot the car rolling down the deserted main street towards the rat’s nest. The headlights were turned off, but moonlight was reflecting off the chrome of the front bumper.
“Sure looks like a special delivery,” Marcus commented.
