“Hawk Leader, we’re ready for your run.”
“Copy that,” Fentress sounded a lot like Zen over the radio, though the two men could not have been more different. Fentress was rail-thin, and looked like he’d fall over in a breeze. Zen looked like a running back, and except for his legs, might be in as good shape. Personality-wise, Fentress bordered on flighty, though while flying the UM/Fs, he made an effort to project a calm, almost cold, demeanor.
“Feeding you video,” said Fentress.
The island came into sharp focus as the Flighthawk approached, the optical feed was at maximum magnification, making objects ten times larger than in real life. The U/MF was at five thousand feet for its first run, still relatively high.
Nothing from the village—no small-arms fire, no shoulder-launched SAMs. Good.
“Teams, move forward,” said Danny as the plane came in. “Confirm when you reach Alpha Point.”
He told the helo pilot to move forward also. A slight twinge of adrenaline hit his stomach; he leaned against his restraints as the chopper pushed toward its own Alpha Point near the coastline.
The IR feed on the Flighthawk’s next run painted the village as a green sepia Currier & Ives scene, assuming structure that might not have sides, a fenced area, probably for animals. He saw something that looked like a goat, but no people yet.
No people? Shit.
“ready,” reported Liu.
“You guys are cheatin’,” said Powder. “They must’ve gotten a head start.”
“Powder,” said Danny.
“We’re ready,” said the sergeant. So were the other teams.
“Hawk Leader. I need that low-and-slow run, give me your best shot,” said Danny. “Three and Four, move in, I’ll locate the natives for you in a second.”
“Machine gun,” said Bison.
“Everybody gold. Hold!”
Danny keyed the feed from Bison’s helmet to his, but he couldn’t make out what Bison had spotted.
“You sure, Bison?”
“I got something moving, Cap,” said Powder.
“What’s going on?” said Stoner.
Danny held up his hand, needing him to be quiet. He was in automatic mode now, punching buttons. The scram of things had a swirling logic of their own and you wanted to keep yourself on the edge, away from the whirlpool.
“Everyone hold on,” Danny told his people. “Hawk Leader, we’re ready for you now, Captain.”
“Hawk Leader,” acknowledged Fentress.
The Flighthawk dropped to a hundred feet over the island, literally at treetop level. Though it was moving slow for an aircraft—just under 150 knots—the feed nonetheless blew by in a blur. Danny calmly hit the freeze frame as the first building came in view.
Three figures in one hut, one figure in another. Four, maybe five in the pen.
Three more up near Squad Four.
“Floyd, you have three natives on your right, above that ridge there. Everybody else is in the hut, or the pen—those are animals in the pen. I don’t have Squad One and Two in view. Hang tight.”
Danny clicked forward on the feed, still didn’t have them. He could wait for another run or just go.
Waiting was conservative, but it meant giving the people in the village more time to man weapons, plan a defense.
“Three and Four move in,” Danny said, finding another solution, “One and Two hold.”
“Aw, shit,” said Powder.
“Hawk Leader, another run, further east,” Danny said.
“Copy that,” said Fentress.
The Flighthawk came over again—two people were walking south toward Liu’s team. Danny fed the details to Liu, then ordered One and Two to move in.
“Take us there,” Danny told the helo pilot, who gunned the engine on the small helicopter. The scout rocketed forward so fast Danny flew back in the seat.
“Go, go, go!” Bison was yelling. Danny clicked in the Flighthawk feed, saw an explosion on the west side of the camp. Going at the machine gun, the team used flashbangs and smoke grenades. Voices shouted in his ears. He struggled to stay above it all—outside the scram.
“Quick Birds, hold your fire,” said Danny. “That smoke is from our grenades.”
He clicked into the feed from Bison—the trees moved swiftly, then he saw ground, smoke—an old tree trunk in front of his team member.
The machine gun.
“Shit fuck,” said Bison.
“All right, everyone relax now, relax,” said Danny.
“Got two guys here,” said Powder. “Older than the hills.”
“Powder, watch it—natives coming at you,” said Liu.
“We’re on it.”
Danny pushed up the helmet screen, looking through the windscreen of the Quick Bird as the pilot pointed to the ground. Stoner leaner over, trying to make out what was happening.
“Can you get us down?” Danny asked the pilot.
“I can hover over that roof there,” he replied. “You’ll have to go down the rope.”
“Yeah, do it,” said Stoner.