Van leaned forward and clapped Loeb on the shoulder. “Nice idea, but people can change, you know?”
“Sometimes being a pessimist isn’t the right choice,” Loeb replied.
Tate looked between the two as if he was still trying to decide who he should believe.
“I don’t know who’s side the Hunters are really on,” O’Neil said, interjecting before they could carry on their argument. “I do know the Russians aren’t on our side and neither are the Skulls. That tells me exactly where I should be pointing my rifle.”
Smith brought the group together again.
“Regardless of your beliefs about the Hunters, they are not the ones carrying out this mission,” Smith said. “We’re relying on all of you. Once Villa Josephine is secure, you will patrol into the medina of Tangier. We’ll be pulling a special recon mission, figuring out exactly what the Russians have going on at the port. We’re not just going in with recon loadouts, though.”
He switched to an image of the Tangier port on the screen. O’Neil surveyed the rows of warehouses and the freighters full of shipping containers docked at the pier. The whole port facility seemed to be blocked off by a massive wall.
“Our best guess is that these buildings”—he pointed at two square structures on the opposite side of the port from the warehouses—“are where they might be manufacturing the Oni Agent. Reports indicate that these facilities used to house a small pharmaceutical company prior to the outbreak, which seems a likely place to continue the Russians’ bioweapon development and manufacturing. If we confirm our suspicions, your job will be to complete an intel grab, then blow everything you can. We want to know everything that’s going on there—and if it’s indeed nefarious, if this isn’t actually some place where they’re secretly manufacturing a cure for their people and not sharing it—then we want it gone.”
Then he folded his hands together, stepping away from the screen.
“This isn’t just about stopping an Oni Agent distribution or manufacturing facility. According to historical satellite imagery, those ships you see in the harbor were not there before the outbreak. We suspect the Russians have moved them there in preparation for some kind of mass shipment or attack. Your success here just might prevent an unexpected and deadly blitzkrieg from the Russians. Any more questions?”
One-by-one, Smith went through each of the operators’ concerns until everyone was satisfied.
As soon as they were dismissed, they were instructed to make immediate preparations to depart. The group dispersed, buzzing with chatter and discussing their loadouts.
O’Neil started prepping his kit in the bedroom with the rest of his team. “Turns out Doyle was right, wasn’t he?”
“Glad I grabbed that shuteye while I could, man,” Tate said.
“Loeb, you get a chance to call your girls?” O’Neil asked.
Loeb shook his head. “Sat phone was in use again.”
“When we’re back then,” O’Neil said.
“When we’re back.”
-16-
By the time the Black Hawks soared over the northern coast of Morocco, the sun had dipped below the inky ocean waters. O’Neil and Bravo were once again on a chopper with Alpha. Reynolds, Henderson, and Stuart sat across from them, but the hold felt noticeably empty with McLean’s absence. It might have just been one operator, but it was still a harsh reminder of what they had lost on the last mission. That this mission would not be any easier.
The only easy day was yesterday, O’Neil thought to himself.
Never seemed more fitting.
“One minute,” the Black Hawk pilot called.
O’Neil motioned to the rest of his team to engage their NVGs. He pulled his own down with a click. The world came alive in a screen of white and green and black. Through the window in the side door, he could see the second Black Hawk with Delta and Charlie racing in parallel with them.
The crew chief opened the side door. Warm Mediterranean air whipped into the troop hold. As the bird slowed, just east from their objective, the other Black Hawk raced southward, banking to drop Delta and Charlie just beyond the villa.
Their goal was to approach the compound in an L-shape, with Alpha and Bravo making up their vertical segment of the L. It was a common maneuver they used when clearing compounds and neighborhoods of fighters prior to the outbreak. O’Neil hoped it would go as smoothly as it usually did then, when all the fireteams were operating in perfect rhythm.
But he had long since learned that no good plan withstood confrontation with the enemy. Especially not with an enemy as wild and nightmarish as the Skulls.
The Black Hawk came to a hover, its rotor wash shaking the nearby trees, sending leaves swirling in the air.
“Go, go, go!” Reynolds called, sending Stuart and Henderson down the fast-ropes first.
They formed a perimeter under the hovering chopper as O’Neil led his men down. As soon as his boots hit the tall grass and wet earth, he shouldered his rifle, scoping out the darkness beyond.
The Black Hawk tore back away into the night. O’Neil heard the thrum of the second bird, then watched it race overhead.
They were alone again, on foreign soil, surrounded by enemies.
“Anyone got eyes?” Reynolds asked.
All the replies came back negative.
Reynolds signaled for O’Neil to take his men through a dense wall of trees and bushes. Alpha covered them, staying just slightly north of their position, moving through overgrown and neglected gardens surrounding the compound.
O’Neil stepped over damp grass and through prickling bushes until they made their way to the pool area. Four plastic chairs were in the pool, floating, covered in algae. The water appeared murky, filled with plant matter and other oozing growths. Planters had fallen across the patio surrounding the pool, wilted plants fluttering, half-buried in the spilled soil.
There was what appeared to be a bar near the pool. But as O’Neil crept closer, he could see the bottles lining the back of the bar—at least the bottles that weren’t broken and lying on the patio in sparkling piles of shards—were not alcohol, but different soft drinks and juices. Those that were juices were now filled with mold and other chunks of disgusting goo.
O’Neil cleared the back of the bar with Tate, then signaled for Van and Loeb to move ahead, checking the wild bushes around the patio for Skulls that might ambush them.
Usually, the creatures didn’t lie in wait, biding their time in silence. They preferred to simply run at their prey, shrieking and howling. But after Lithuania, O’Neil would leave nothing to chance and would never again try to predict Skull behavior.
Just twenty yards to their north, Reynolds was working through the rest of the gardens and toward what appeared to be the pool house and bathrooms.
O’Neil started toward a long drive. A pair of black sedan town cars were parked at the end of the drive before a sweeping staircase that led to the entrance of the villa. The front door of the sedan was open a crack. He thought he could see a shape just barely poking out above the driver’s side window.
He signaled for Loeb and Van to cover him as he made his approach with Tate. They crept toward the sedan. The closer they got, the more O’Neil was certain there was someone in that vehicle watching them. Just peeking over the door.
He had his sights lined up, ready to turn the door into metal shrapnel as soon as this person or beast or whatever it was showed any sign of aggression.
With a gesture, he sent Tate toward the rear of the car. The operator kept his rifle trained on the driver’s side of the vehicle.
Come on, O’Neil thought. What are you doing?