“Black, Blue, Charlie Teams on me,” she shouts.
She makes sure the teams are ready and then begins trotting toward the large warehouse hearing the footfalls of the teams behind her. She knows immediately they won’t be able to reach the people in time to prevent them from going in. Gathering her breath, she shouts out to them attempting to get their attention. No response. Fuck, she thinks and picks up her pace. She hopes she can reach them before they venture too far inside. If she can reach the door quickly, she can shout inside for them to get back out. She feels the heightened rush of adrenaline knowing she may have to enter into yet another darkened building. This is fucking shit, she thinks as she watches the last of the group disappear into the open door of the structure.
“Lynn, there are night runners inside. Watch your asses in there. Assess the risk and get out if you need to,” she hears Jack on the radio.
“Copy that, Jack,” she replies. This shit just gets better and better.
She knows what Jack is saying between the lines. If the risk to the teams is too great, he wants her to pull the teams out regardless of the situation. They had this discussion a while ago in the gym rescuing his kids and the others held captive. Some of those they had rescued wanted to go to the bathroom and she was to provide escort. Jack has told her to pull back if they were attacked and let the others fend for themselves. She argued that she wouldn’t leave them defenseless and that’s not what they were there for; they were there to protect. Jack had agreed with that but losing the teams would leave everyone else without the protection they needed.
While the events of the past months have changed her way of thinking to a certain degree, she still feels that sense of protecting those that need it. It’s a core part of her; help those that need help regardless of the risk. She understands Jack’s concern. If they lose teams here, that would leave the compound with less to defend it, especially with the night runners showing their tremendous ability to adapt. This is the quandary she finds herself in — what is the acceptable level of risk? For her, there is no limit to the risk in order to help someone but who is it they are there to help — those in the compound or the ones directly in front of her. They both need levels of help. Well, fuck it, I’ll try to help the ones here to the level I can without losing the teams, she thinks as they close on the building.
Lynn folds against the outside wall next to the open door. The clouds hang close to the tall roof of the cream-colored warehouse. Looking at the building closely for the first time, she realizes just what they are up against. The door she is next to is near the far left side with large sliding doors in the center of the building. This is evidently a large storage facility meant for trucks to enter and fill with supplies. Looking along the front of the structure, she notes the complete absence of windows. Quickly walking to the corner and peering along the wall there, she sees a similar sight; cream-colored sheet metal walls stretching high without a door or window to mar the surface. The inside will be pitch dark. She reaches up and feels for the NVGs fastened securely to her helmet.
Turning back, she sees Horace, with her Blue Team against the wall on the other side of the door. Behind Horace, Mullins waits with Charlie Team. Her own Black Team is pressed against the wall on her side. All have their weapons ready to bring to bear. She knows each and every one of them dread heading into yet another darkened building. And Jack telling her there are night runners inside, well, she can take that one to the bank. A trickle of thought enters that he broadcast that in the open and it will be noted. Looking at the teams tense and ready, she feels her own tension drawn tight like a drawn bowstring.
Pressing the mic button on her throat mic, she says, “Horace, you have the right, Mullins the left. I’ll take the center. Twenty feet in and be ready.” Lynn watches Horace nod and Mullins give a thumbs up.
“Jack, do we have comms with the group inside? Are they armed and do they know we are coming in?” Lynn asks.
A moment passes before the answer comes, “No, they don’t have any radios and aren’t armed. Watch your ass.”
“Isn’t that your job?” she replies.
“It is and a wonderful job it is. The view is incredible,” Jack answers.
“Good answer. See you in a sec, Lynn out.”
Lynn settles herself by the doorway. Peering in, she notes that the darkness is nearly complete. The light from the opening extends only a few feet in before disappearing into an inky abyss. The sub tied to the pier a short distance away is forgotten as she looks into nothingness. Her heart races as she knows what lies within. She feels the tension quivering inside her yet, at the same time, she feels a certain calm settle in knowing it’s go time. The chill of the morning is lost as her entire attention is focused on the task at hand.
The shriek that emits from within startles her and causes her heart to jump. Night runners are indeed laired within and have either noticed her and her team or the others that entered only minutes ago. She swallows and takes a deep breath.
“Okay, ladies, that’s our cue,” she says. Flipping down her goggles and, bringing her M-4 to bear, she steps in the doorway.
She is immediately lost in the blackness but her goggles bring everything into focus with a green glow. The interior is largely open. Several trucks are parked near the front and farther back with a few propane-driven forklifts scattered throughout. Large crates and boxes are stacked along the side and beyond the vehicles forming small mountains with aisles running farther back into the building between them. The back of the warehouse is lost behind the first large stacks.
Her head turns to the left and right; up and down. Searching. Anticipating night runners to immediately launch themselves at her. Her laser casts a thin beam of light everywhere her eyes look. Nothing. The quick rush of noise from clothing and boots follows her in as the others enter on her heels. She stops twenty feet in feeling the rest of Black Team fall in beside her. Her goggles pick up seventeen other laser beams as they dart about the interior. Toward the rear of building, several flashlights shine upward from amongst the boxes. Lynn catches a couple of flashes closer by. She wants to call out for those inside to leave but they are too far to the rear of the warehouse. Any call will alert the night runners and bring them upon the hapless sailors inside.
“Okay everyone, take is slow and easy. We’re heading to the right along the front doors. Keep our current perimeter. Horace, when we reach the front doors, I want you to see if you can get them open,” Lynn says over the radio.
“Copy that, first sergeant,” Horace replies.
“Right behind you,” Mullins responds.
“These people don’t know we’re in here so watch your targets. Keep your eyes open. Move out,” Lynn says.
Lynn can feel her heart thudding in her chest as they begin making their way along the front wall. Boots scuff on the gritty concrete floor along with the soft swish of clothing rubbing together. Thin beams of light streak out across the interior as they cover their individual sectors. An occasional murmur rises from the others inside as they apparently search out the area for supplies. She doesn’t know why the group from the sub didn’t just open the front doors. Perhaps they don’t know what they’re dealing with, she think mentally willing them to keep their voices down. The last thing they need right now is to alert the night runners she knows reside within.
There was that first shriek that sounded out just before they entered but the mass that would usually follow didn’t occur. She thinks again to call out to alert the other group that they are in but that would definitely alert any night runners. She feels put in a difficult position. If they can get the doors open, she’ll call out to them that they are in danger and for them make their way swiftly to her. The light shining in will give them an area of protection.