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It helped that the enemy soldiers were sleeping in his home. And also, liked he’d mentioned to his uncle, all the reports of the brutality with which the enemy had treated innocent people after the Retaliation. The brutality he and his loved ones and the people of Aspen Hill could expect if the Gold Bloc won this war. Still, he did his best to shut off his mind as he slipped out of the bathroom with knife in hand and moved to the first cot to begin the grisly task.

Behind him the five other volunteers spread out to the other parts of the shelter, doing their best to make as little noise as possible as they got to work as well.

He’d made it clear from the very beginning that once they snuck into the shelter, they’d have to clear it out as quickly and quietly as possible. That meant killing the soldiers inside, preferably while they were still sleeping and with as little noise as they could manage. His volunteers had accepted that it was necessary and was something they could bring themselves to do, and Lewis had made the same resolution.

But accepting it and liking it were two different things.

As Lewis went from one soldier to the next, he worried more with each passing second that one of the blockheads would wake up and raise the alarm. Which would force his people to deal with a situation quickly spiraling out of control.

There were a few scares, as some of the sleeping soldiers they hadn’t gotten to yet stirred slightly at a few of the louder unavoidable sounds. But either they weren’t making as much noise as he feared or the enemy slept like logs, because none of the blockheads woke up fully until it was too late. There were no shouts to give them away.

His team was done in less than five minutes, with Tam by the door signaling that they hadn’t drawn any attention from outside. Once he was certain the shelter was clear Lewis hissed an order, and his volunteers got to work doing their best to arrange the bodies. The next stage of the plan would be easier if they could make it look like the enemy soldiers were still sleeping peacefully.

At first glance at least.

Halfway through the task Carl, his hands and shirt soaked in blood, abruptly staggered away from a cot. He only made it a few steps before he fell to his knees and retched all over the shelter’s outdoor carpet. By the door Tam started for her husband, looking worried, then stopped herself and returned to her position watching outside.

Lewis made his way over instead, reaching his friend in just a few seconds to kneel beside him with a hand on his shoulder. With a bit of revulsion he realized his hands were just as bloody, and wished he’d taken a moment to wipe them off on a blanket.

“Sorry,” Carl said miserably. “Dear God, this is awful.”

Lewis wholeheartedly agreed. “We’re almost done,” he whispered. “The worst is over with.”

His friend nodded, and when Lewis helped him to his feet he got back to work. A few minutes later they had everything looking as normal as possible. Lewis had the rest of the volunteers crawl out of the tunnel and join the others near the door, noticing how they averted their eyes from the dozens of bodies on the cots. With him leading the way they moved to their positions to either side of the entrance for the next step, which was to wait for the sentries on the two hills to finish their shifts and head in to wake the next shift.

Going by his watch they’d managed to do everything with fifteen minutes still to spare, so there was nothing to do but wait. Under the circumstances he kind of wished they’d waited a bit longer before leaving the tunnel, but then again that would introduce unnecessary risk into the plan.

A few volunteers spoke up as the tense minutes ticked by in silence. Probably more out of nervousness than boredom. Every time someone did Lewis gestured curtly, and if that didn’t do it he hissed sharply under his breath. Eventually people got the message, and the stale air of the shelter hung heavy with tension while they waited.

After what felt like hours rather than minutes he heard the approach of quiet voices outside, the same voices speaking the same unfamiliar Eastern European language he’d heard before. Lewis felt his shoulders simultaneously loosen and tense up as he motioned for his people to be prepared. They’d all heard as well and had dropped into crouches and gone motionless.

The voices reached the shelter and started making their way down the ramp, although they went quiet just outside the door. Probably to avoid waking their companions. The heavy door creaked open, flooding the near pitch black room with the predawn glow, and the sentries entered one after the other. Not just the two from the taller hill but the two from the shorter one as well.

They weren’t expecting anything. Why would they be, when they were walking into a pitch black, well defended room full of their sleeping fellow soldiers. Or so they thought. So they filed right past Lewis and his volunteers hiding along the walls to either side of the door, completely oblivious to their presence.

Lewis didn’t know why it made it better that the enemy was awake this time, but it did. He waited until the sentries were all through, then slammed the door behind them and lunged forward. He went after the last man through the door, catching him from behind and covering his mouth while he rammed his knife into his throat. The rest of his volunteers converged on the other three, managing to keep them quiet as they brought them down.

In just a few heartbeats it was over.

Motioning curtly, Lewis slipped through the door. Jane, Tam, and Carl followed him, and they broke off into pairs and moved towards the two hills as if they were the new shift. In the shelter behind him the rest of the volunteers got to work, gathering up everything of value inside to take with them.

The most dangerous part of the plan was over, but they still had to be careful with the next part. Their observations of the blockhead scouts had suggested that no vehicles would be coming or going at this shift change, but that didn’t mean the unexpected couldn’t happen. And it was also possible soldiers might arrive from the nearby town for some reason.

Conveniently, keeping up the pretense of being sentries also worked in their favor, since it let them walk right up to the best lookout positions in the area. Lewis and Jane ambled up to the one atop the tall hill, while Tam and Carl made their way to the shorter hill and began the climb. From there they began casually searching the area for enemies, awkwardly using their night vision goggles to look through their rifle scopes.

They were sentries, just for the other side.

In spite of his apparent casualness Lewis was in a hurry, though. The sun would be rising in less than a half hour, the early morning was already bright enough that he could’ve taken off his night vision goggles if he wanted, and the blockheads in the houses and shipping container could be waking up at any time.

And they weren’t finished yet. Every second that passed was one more in which something could go wrong. So just as soon as he was sure the area was theirs he tapped the mic on his radio’s headset. “All clear.”

He didn’t need to give instructions, since they’d already planned in advance what to do next. While he and the other lookouts kept up the watch, the rest of the group began lugging stolen supplies from the shelter into the nearest of the five trucks. The two of the other three vehicles that were out scouting at the moment were due to stay out for another hour or so, and Lewis hoped everything was normal in that regard. As for the one that had driven by on their approach, he hoped they’d stay away too.

The trucks were their exit strategy, not to mention a prize in and of themselves. Lewis had realized from the first that trying to sneak away after the raid would be ten times as risky as sneaking in had been. So the plan had depended entirely on getting their hands on the vehicles, even if they had to rush them under fire if things went wrong.