Incursion

Chapter 5: Lure

Once Genel had analyzed all the intel we’d acquired from our last operation – even the intel I myself worked on overnight – I called for another briefing at 1900.

When everyone was gathered at the Command Room table, I took a seat beside Josh and let Genel take the lead for this briefing.

She stood under the monitor displaying the satellite view of the city and using her TACPAD, pulled up the same rough area Angel and I went to during the last operation.

“All right,” she began, turning to face the three of us, “I went over the data our two groups procured from our respective locations. Based on my analysis, we’ve got potential actionable intel on two possibly different areas of the enemy’s operations.”

“Let’s start with the intel Josh and I got from Peter Lougheed first,” Genel consulted her TACPAD again and brought up the mug shot of the young Army soldier named Nathan Steele. I’d pored over the soldier’s personnel file after Angel and I returned from Dalemead while Genel was still starting her analysis.

“This is Corporal Nathan Steele, a soldier assigned to Echo Company, one of the companies of US Army here in Calgary. As you can probably tell, he is Major’s Bradley Steele’s son.

“I actually happened upon this data by accident, while Josh and I were digging through the servers for intel on Major Steele. Instead of intel pertaining directly to the major himself, I stumbled upon Nathan Steele when I was running a search for their last name. Unfortunately, my access was limited to the local server and there wasn’t any useful data on Major Steele’s routines or location. On the other hand, we have Corporal Steele’s basic information and assignment details for the next seven days.”

“So you’re saying—” Josh said slowly, raising a finger to scratch at his temple, frowning thoughtfully.

“Nathan is our truth serum,” I answered for him, inclining my head toward Genel, who looked back at me with a subtle look of affirmation. “We get our hands on the son and use him to lure in the major.”

“Exactly,” Genel said promptly, nodding. “The way I see it, with us having no intel on the major himself thus far, we can save ourselves the time gathering more intel on the older Steele, and the effort required to bag him after. Being a high ranking Army officer, Bradley Steele will surely always be surrounded by a considerable enemy presence. This way, we can at least manipulate him into coming to us on more feasible ground.”

“Do we have the corporal’s current location?” Angel spoke up from directly across the table from me. Ever since she and I got back from Dalemead this afternoon, she seemed considerably more comfortable and assertive within the team.

“No, but we do know where he will be tomorrow,” Genel answered, then used her TACPAD to display a red overlay on the monitor above her. The overlay traced a large portion of 52nd Street running north from the South Health Campus until the interchange between 52nd Street and the Trans-Canada Highway. From the interchange the red overlay proceeded west toward downtown Calgary and ended at the Calgary Stampede.

“This is the route that the prisoner transport convoy takes to get to and from the South Health Campus,” Genel explained, looking up at the monitor, “The intel Josh and I acquired indicates that a group of twenty plus soldiers rides in on three trucks and routinely transports prisoners from the South Health Campus to the Calgary Stampede. I’m inclined to think that the Stampede is the final stop before prisoners are transferred elsewhere and vanish for good. Peter Lougheed Centre and the South Health Campus are only smaller collection points, if I had to guess, before a convoy comes and takes a handful of prisoners to the Stampede.”

I glanced sideways at Angel, who had firsthand experience being interred at the Stampede. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor and she had a rapt expression on her face.

“How often do transport trucks make the rounds?” she asked, much of her timidness from the last two days seeming to have disappeared.

“We have intel only on the rounds being made up to the seventh of January,” Genel replied, looking down on her pad for reference, “There are scheduled prisoner transfers from SHC to Stampede tomorrow, then January second, then the fourth and the sixth. All dates have pickup times at SHC at 1830 hours. If this is a pattern, then we can infer there are rounds every two or three days.”

Angel nodded twice slowly, then appeared to wait for Genel to continue.

“With regards to this intel, our objective will be to ambush the convoy on its way to SHC. The convoy for tomorrow, according to our data, will have Corporal Steele as one of the accompanying soldiers assisting with prisoner transport. The intel doesn’t specify which truck he will be in, but if this is up to date – and I double checked the date of the file to ensure it was recently uploaded – then Corporal Steele will certainly be among the crew in the convoy. Ambushing the convoy on its way to the hospital rather than from is naturally the better option here, since this way we won’t have to worry about collateral damage. We take out the soldiers minus Steele, secure the corporal, and dangle the bait somewhere advantageous.”

Genel looked to the rest of us for any further questions or comments.

“If we’re going ahead with ambushing the convoy, do we have a viable ambush point?” I asked her, knowing she already had a plan. As arguably the most intelligent member of the team and its sniper, Genel could be counted on to stay up to date with available intelligence and with planning ambushes.

As expected, she gave me a nod. She tapped her TACPAD several times, then the monitor zoomed in on a point along the convoy’s highlighted route a little bit north of the hospital. An additional blue overlay encircled an intersection with a Shoppers Drug Mart on the west side of 52nd Street and a Co-Op gas station to the east.

“Based on my calculations, this will be the best point in the convoy’s route to exploit. It’s far enough from both the downtown bulk of enemy forces and the SHC detachment that we can quickly attack the trucks, grab the target, and be gone before anyone can respond to assist. We’re counting on the convoy getting some word out for help though, since we do need the major’s attention.”

I studied the area around the intersection for a moment, finding the plan feasible, at least in theory.

“How much resistance are we facing here?” I asked Genel, who faced me directly.

“I checked the list of personnel tied to this convoy and collection time,” she said, “A total of twenty-six soldiers will be on board the trucks for the convoy detail. One of them will be the target.”

“Better odds than trying to extract him from a stronghold.”

“Right.”

There was a momentary silence within the Command Room before Angel spoke up.

“Before we commit to the ambush, we should at least discuss the intel Knight acquired first.”

Genel nodded in agreement, looking down at her wrist again and making the map zoom out for a second before it zoomed back in on an area to the southwest of the downtown core. The magnification was just enough for me to recognize the rough outline of the buildings I saw in the intel I acquired from Lieutenant Evans’ laptop. A red X marked the rough spot where the email attachment indicated its own mark to be. Now that I could see the bigger picture and the surrounding area, I recognized the location as the decommissioned Calgary Forces Base, known as CFB Calgary. The compound used to be a Canadian Army base that housed a combination of Canadian Army Service Corps and Royal Canadian Infantry Corps personnel. During the Second World War, the base’s now defunct Currie and Harvey Barracks were used as army training centres. In 1998, the base closed down and part of it was redeveloped as a residential area, though the two barracks themselves and the accompanying airstrip still remain largely intact to this day. The decommissioned CFB Calgary can be observed when driving down Crowchild Trail, and only a mere ten-foot high iron fence separates the throughway from the base grounds.

“Ian’s intel included a less detailed portion of a map of this area, but we managed to cross reference the buildings and the nearby highway to confirm the location marked on the sat view,” Genel turned back to the monitor as she explained, “It’s the decommissioned Calgary Forces Base, or CFB Calgary. Along with details from the email transcript this intel was attached to, we now know that the prisoners being brought to the Stampede are eventually brought to this location. Unfortunately, the email doesn’t go into any useful detail about what the marked location may be like, how fortified it is, or its purpose for the US Army. It’s clear however, that Major Steele is associated with someone ‘outside the USAF’, as the email spells out. The major was pretty tight-lipped about this association, so we don’t know anything else besides this location being the last known stop for prisoners. Again, we don’t know how the area looks currently, if a substantial presence is there, so—”

Genel paused, looking to me directly to ask if she could express an opinion. I nodded at her slightly before she continued speaking.

“So my assessment is that we should carefully consider how to follow up on this lead,” she said briskly after the pause. “Or if we even should.”

“Why shouldn’t we?” Angel interjected, her voice noticeably rising in volume. She now leaned forward in her chair, planting her elbows on top of the table and her hands clenched into loose fists. I wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed, whenever we talked about prisoners being detained by the enemy, Angel becomes considerably more animated, even frantic. I was tempted to chalk her reactions up to firsthand experience being a detainee, but perhaps there was something more personal to this.

Maybe I should look into this later. For now, we need to focus on our next move.

Genel appeared slightly stunned by Angel’s fervent remark, looking at our new XO in silence for a second before answering. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t, per se. I’m merely trying to say that for all intents and purposes, this location is a black hole to us. We have no updated visual on it from the satellite, thanks to our disconnect with HQ at the moment. We don’t know what it’s like there right now, we don’t know how occupied it is, and… we don’t know what the place is. All we know is that prisoners go there as a possible final destination. That’s all. It’s… frankly creepy at this point. The major wouldn’t share much about it in his email to the lieutenant, like whatever goes on there is part of some top secret, black op.”

Genel gave Angel a vaguely apologetic look.

“TL;DR: we need to be wary of investigating this location,” she concluded in a forcibly less serious tone. Perhaps she was trying to placate Angel, but Angel merely looked down at the table with a faraway look in her eyes, pursing her lips and not saying another word.

I glanced at Josh, who glanced back at me. From his expression I could tell he’d picked up on the tension in the air brought about by our XO’s comment about investigating this lead I uncovered. He gave me a nearly imperceptible shrug in response.

Genel meanwhile, looked like the one student in class who’d just finished presenting her end of term project and was reacting poorly to the lack of applause. She looked from me to Angel and then back.

“Genel is right,” I finally spoke up to clear the dead air, “I didn’t manage to get much concrete intel back at the hospital. Unfortunately, we need to work with what we’ve got for now. We can’t go chasing at every thread without knowing what’s on the other end of it. For now, our focus should be on Major Steele. I say we go for the ambush as our next op. Let’s work on that first. Anyone with any objections?”

Genel shook her head immediately while Josh gave me a neutral glance to show he had no qualms. I then turned to Angel, who was still staring at the table.

“Angel?” I said, rapping my knuckles on the table.

She jerked upright in her chair as if she’d been roused from microsleep. “Uh, yes. No objections.”

This definitely bears investigating in due time.

“All right then,” I addressed the team with a more carrying voice, hoping to uneventfully move us past Angel’s strange behaviour, “We have plenty of time to sort out how exactly to do this. Let’s make ready.”

I received three nods from three heads.

We spent the next three and a half hours poring over a still image of the ambush area as taken from the sat view map. Since the convoy’s predicted field of movement was quite linear, it would be easy to detect it coming while we stayed out of sight until it was time to attack. Darkness will have fallen by 1815 hours, which was the estimated time of arrival we all settled on with respect to the ambush point’s distance from the South Health Campus, which means that the enemy will be quite disoriented when we spring our trap.

The plan was to plant a couple anti-personnel claymore mines at the intersection, all facing toward the direction the convoy would be approaching from. Since they weren’t designed for anti-vehicle use, the claymores would effectively damage the lead truck and warrant a stop while not outright blowing it up. At that point, the soldiers aboard the three trucks will have responded to an attack and attempt to secure a perimeter. Archer would post up at the roof of the Shoppers Drug Mart with a sniper rifle and attempt to ID the target as quickly as possible. Angel, Goliath, and I would instead be at ground level on the other side of the street, at the gas station. Until Archer manages to ID our target, the three of us on the ground would ‘encourage’ the disembarked soldiers to take cover behind their trucks so that ideally all of them would be visible in Archer’s field of vision. While the three of us keep the enemy suppressed, Archer would scan the area for the target. Upon successful ID of the target, she would incapacitate him with a non-lethal leg shot then proceed to help the rest of Shadow clear out the other hostiles. We’d secure Nathan Steele, acquire an enemy radio, and lure in the major using enemy comms. After that, we would proceed to the second ambush point by truck and wait for the major to follow thanks to our bait. The second ambush point we agreed was in the Quarry Park neighbourhood, where there was a Co-Op grocery store that I would use as the meeting place. Archer would then take position on the roof of the Jacobs building across 18th Street, where she would have a wide open view of the parking lot in front of the grocery store – good conditions for her to provide overwatch and support as needed. In the meantime, Angel and Goliath would act to deter any hostiles who aren’t the major from approaching the meeting place.

By the time the extended briefing was concluded at nearly 2300, I dismissed the Shadow members for the night. Angel left the Command Room first; she was fairly vocal and cooperative during all of our planning and much of her usual, calmer self returned the longer we discussed the operation. Josh excused himself next, telling me he wanted to get in touch with his fiancée Elena before turning in. I rose from my chair for the first time in three hours and stretched my arms above my head and stood on my toes to wake my legs.

“Hey,” said a voice from beside me once the room was quiet.

I glanced to my side at Genel, who was staring at me with a subtle look of concern on her face. Out of all the Shadow members, she was the one I knew best and the longest, so it was little challenge to detect that slight downward pitch of the corner of her lips, the serious look lurking behind her eyes, and the rather reluctant and cautionary tone her voice took whenever she worried about something. Personally I thought she worried too much for the amount to be considered healthy, but I knew telling her to relax would do her – and me – no good.

I could also readily accept her comparatively informal way of speaking to me directly because we’d known each other longer than we’ve been C.O.S. agents. By the same token, I could afford to be a little informal around her. Just.

“Genel,” I nodded to her to acknowledge her greeting.

“I realize it’s a tad late to be asking, but how’d the trip to the lingerie store go?”

Another thing about Genel: she likes to joke around and tease, at least around me in particular, on occasion. This is one habit she never quite grew out of through the years. I mostly tolerated her when it comes to her humour, but that was because of our history.

“It was all right.” It wasn’t that I couldn’t detect humour – rather, I seldom felt like expressing or returning it.

“I think she was in good spirits when the two of you returned from shopping,” Genel gave me that slightly annoying little smirk of hers that usually appeared when she was about to say something inappropriate.

“I think she was, too.”

After Angel found out about my medication early this morning, I reluctantly sought Genel’s help in hopes of defusing the situation between me and Angel, since I did notice the two women seemed to get along quite well with each other. It wasn’t that I particularly cared for what Angel thought of me with regards to the tablets, but I couldn’t afford to have even one member of Shadow being distraught over a non-issue. These were difficult times already, and I didn’t need my XO turning on me now. I should have kept up with dosing myself regularly like my doctor told me to, but I’d been skipping some days altogether to reduce the side effects I got when taking the Desyrel: minor nausea, headaches, and drowsiness chief among them. Obviously I’d made a poor decision there because the one time I left my room door unlocked, I had another one of those dreams, and Angel happened to witness my reaction.

Genel cradled her chin in one hand and tilted her head sideways a bit. “She got pretty heated during the briefing, though. Did you do something while you were out? Took a peek at her changing, maybe?”

“Don’t lump me in with the likes of you.”

I said this quite seriously, but Genel laughed anyway.

“Fine, fine,” she said in defeat, shaking her head. “But did anything happen while you two were out?”

“Other than me admitting to her I’ve had anxiety for three years already, no.”

Genel sobered up quickly upon hearing me talk of my ‘condition’.

“I see. I know where she’s coming from, though,” she said insistently, looking to the Command Room door where Angel had stepped out minutes ago, “She’s XO and medic, so naturally she feels respons—”

“I know, I know. She said as much to me.” I stifled a sigh, not wanting to talk about my medication or my health any longer. I never wanted to talk about these things with anyone, and that included Genel.

As always, she caught on to my discomfort instantly and changed tacks. She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, looking thoughtful.

“What do you think about back there?” Genel asked me, lowering her voice as if she was afraid of being overheard by an invisible eavesdropper.

I recalled Angel’s reaction when Genel expressed reservations about investigating my intel further.

“I think there’s some deeper reason behind it,” I told Genel candidly, slipping my hands into the pockets of my cargo pants, “It bears looking into, but not now. We’ve got more pressing matters to deal with.”

“You’re not thinking she might… I dunno, pose some issues later on?”

I glanced sharply at her. “Do you?”

Genel quickly shook her head, saying nothing.

“Do you like her?”

“She seems to be a nice person,” she answered in a rather offhand way.

“That’s awfully vague.”

“Why? If you’re so interested, why not ask her?” Genel quickly flipped back to being suggestive. If it were anyone outside of Shadow talking to me this way, I wouldn’t have tolerated it.

“I’m interested in the team’s well-being,” I replied without missing a beat.

Genel sighed loudly, looking exasperated. “I swear to God, you’re no fun. Fine, you want to know what I think? I think she’s still reeling from the effects of being subjected to whatever she went through at the Stampede. Frankly, I don’t blame her. So no, I personally wouldn’t worry about her endangering the mission based on what we know about her at this point.”

Despite Genel’s tendency to make inappropriate comments and poke fun at me at times, when she does get serious I could wholeheartedly count on her judgment whenever I asked for it.

“All right,” I said, choosing to let the topic go for now.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head back to my room and catch some Z’s,” Genel walked past me and headed for the door. Before she opened it, she stopped short when she grabbed the door handle.

I glanced at her. “What?”

She seemed to decide against saying something, shaking her head after a moment. “Nothing. Goodnight, Ian.”

“Night.”

Genel stepped out of the room and left me standing alone in the Command Room.

If it was important, she’d have told me.

I exited the room and headed back to my quarters.



Shadow Team commenced the next operation at 1600 hours the following day. This time, we all boarded the same four-wheel drive and after another quick drone recon to scan our planned route, we drove along 22x and followed the same route Angel and I took two nights ago until we came to 52nd Street. From there, we drove north until we came to the intersection where we’d stage our assault. The surrounding area was quiet and devoid of activity. As I took in our deserted surroundings, I surmised that though the US Army occupied the city currently, there was simply too much ground for even several hundred soldiers to cover strategically. There were still plenty of areas that were somewhat safe, the frequency of such places being greater the further one traveled from the downtown area where the bulk of the enemy’s forces was situated. Calgary is a city that expands outward at a rapid rate compared to its expansion upward. This means that the downtown core has far fewer buildings and skyscrapers compared to cities like Toronto or Vancouver. However, its land area is rather large thanks to its outward rather than upward growth. The Army personnel that took over days ago must have known this and instead of spreading its troops too thin to cover as much ground as possible, consolidated its ultimately finite resources at key points within the city.

By 1640, we parked our truck to the side of the gas bar across 52nd Street from the Shoppers Drug Mart. Since this operation involved some actual combat, we loaded the trunk of the vehicle with extra ammunition and a few extra weapons beforehand. I made sure each Shadow member was carrying enough ammo to hold over for the expected skirmish, then instructed everyone to get familiar with our positions.

The gas station was actually comprised of three structures: the pumps in the middle (which we deactivated the first chance we got; no sense in taking chances and getting ourselves blown up), the gas bar to the southeast, and a car wash to the northwest. The spacing between these three structures was optimal for defense and holding our ground against passing vehicles moving down 52nd Street as long as we don’t allow the enemy to push forward. There were also several vehicles parked within the gas station for additional cover. We were heavily relying on Archer, who would be posted on the roof of the store across the highway, to ID Nathan Steele quickly so we could eliminate all other soldiers while keeping the target alive. If the corporal catches a fatal, stray round then the operation would start as a failure. In terms of survivability, I was confident with our odds for this phase of the op. For one, we would be the ones springing a trap, and for another, we had packed one pair of night vision goggles for each Shadow member. Essentially, in the poor light following dusk the enemy would have a harder time acquiring us while we would be able to clearly see them.

Once we were familiar with our positions, Goliath and I got to work on setting up the ‘tripwire’, so to speak. Together, we pushed one of the nearby SUVs stopped at the intersection to block off the right southbound lane of 52nd Street to force the convoy into taking the left lane. We made sure to make the blockade coincidental, orienting the vehicle so that it pointed south instead of west or east. Once that was done, Goliath proceeded to set up the anti-personnel mines along the width of the one clear southbound lane. We specifically chose ones with lower damage potential – enough to cause vehicles to stop running, but nowhere near enough to obliterate them – and therefore smaller individual size that would make it more difficult for the enemy spot on their approach. Goliath planted two mines in total, each with an overlapping area of effect. He carefully activated both claymores, then announced to the team that live ordnance was on the field once he was done. He marked the line of mines with a garbage bin he took from outside the gas bar to mark the rough location in the sidewalk with respect to the explosives so none of us would find our own traps by mistake. By 1730, we were all set to start our assault.

Since we still had at least half an hour before the convoy was expected to pass through here, I decided to check in with each Shadow personally. Goliath was posted by the gas bar, mounting his M249 SAW light machine gun on top of the hood of the car he was taking cover behind.

“Coming up behind you,” I announced as I approached his position from his six.

He glanced at me over his shoulder and lifted the night vision goggles up over his forehead.

“Knight,” he said in that usual, genial way he always greeted everyone with, “Feeling lonely?”

“Just checking in with everyone,” I answered, crouching down beside him behind the abandoned car.

“Appreciate the thought, boss, but I’m all right.” He flashed me a smile he was fond of giving people, the one that usually reassured everyone he knew.

“Uh-huh. Good. What do you think of our setup so far?”

“Well, we could be doing a lot worse, right?” Goliath said, still sounding optimistic. After a few seconds, his tone changed a little and became more grounded. “You know something, Knight?”

“What?”

“I don’t feel as… scared of this whole invasion thing as much as I think I should be. Do you think that’s bad?”

Josh was usually a happy-go-lucky kind of guy with a penchant for jokes and making light of dark situations that don’t need to get any darker, so whenever he got serious like this and started talking straight, I made it a point not to dismiss him as much as possible. I rarely if ever initiated conversations of a more personal nature with my colleagues, but that didn’t mean I was never open to talk about those if any of my team ever wanted to. If it helps them get focused on the mission and keeps their morale up, then I was glad to at least listen to their thoughts no matter how unrelated to the job.

“That depends,” I replied, “If it means you feel you can gung-ho through this, then that would be bad. But if it means you can keep your arms and legs from locking up in fear, then that’s good.”

Goliath nodded a few times, looking ahead at the dark street. Since he was more often than not jolly by default, anyone who’s been around him longer than a day couldn’t possibly miss a change to his demeanour.

“I talked to Elena again last night,” he began, his tone further shifting to one of seriousness.

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s fine. I made sure to keep the ranch stocked with as much supplies as I could manage, enough for a year at least. After all, you were the one who suggested I do it.”

“I was, yeah.”

“So I guess you aren’t crazy after all,” he chuckled, though the sound had little mirth to it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you saw this exact thing coming.”

“I’m not as arrogant as that.”

“Yeah, I know. But… just imagine not being able to see her for a year, you know?”

Goliath’s jaw tightened. I could see that detail even in this light. I’d worked with him long enough to know that that the appearance of that subtle detail meant he was thinking hard about something.

“She’s safe, and I know that’s what matters in the end,” he continued, still opting to look ahead instead of at me. “But… ah, she’s worried sick, man. Shit, I mean… I would be too if our positions were switched. I just wish I could be there for her right now. It’s not easy waiting for someone to come back, not knowing if they even will.”

“I know.”

“Sorry for being mushy all of a sudden, now of all the times,” he finally glanced at me, forcing a rueful smile.

I stared ahead at the road. “Don’t worry. You’re going to see her again, get married, and have a happy family together. We’ll wrap this up sooner than you think.”

“It’s creepy when you start talking this positively about… anything.”

“Noted. I won’t do it again.”

This time, he chuckled with genuine amusement. He and I went silent for several seconds, then figuring enough had been said, I rose to my feet.

“Hey, hold on.”

I glanced back down at him. He was looking at the road again.

“When all this is over, I’m sending out wedding invitations and I expect you to RSVP with a ‘hell yeah’,” he said casually.

“As long as I don’t have to stay for the reception.”

“You need to get a life.”

“Noted.”

“Thanks, Ian.”

“No problem,” I said quietly, then began to walk back over to the back of the car wash where Angel was positioned.

I found her sitting on the pavement, her back pressed to the outside wall of the car wash. She was turning her Vector submachine gun on its stock rather absently and slowly. Coming to a stop beside her, I waited a second or two before speaking.

“Angel, are you good here?”

In the darkness, I saw her lift her head to meet my gaze. I couldn’t see her eyes well in this light, but I could tell she was trying to find mine as well.

“This is good cover,” she answered stiffly, nodding.

That’s not what I meant, I wanted to tell her. But having only met her three days ago I felt a little out of my depth asking her more questions like I could ask Josh or Genel.

“Yes, but I mean… Is there anything you want to say before we get started?” I said slowly, keeping my eyes on her sitting figure.

She said nothing at first, then eventually humoured me with an answer. “Not really. I do have plenty to think about, though.”

“We all do,” I agreed with her.

“Mhm,” she hummed shortly. I saw the silhouette of her head lowering so that her face was pointed at her gun instead.

I stood there for a minute, waiting to see if she’d like to take a chance to talk to me about anything, but she remained silent.

Well, I suppose if she’s all right I don’t need to force her into a conversation.

I began to walk away, intending to visit Archer across the intersection.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I told Angel. She and I were sharing this car wash for cover.

“Copy, Knight.”

I started walking toward 52nd Street. When I mounted the sidewalk on the gas station side, I tapped my earpiece.

“Archer, I’m coming to you.”

“Understood,” Archer responded over the team channel.

Making sure to give the claymore mines a wide berth, I crossed the silent highway and made it to the front parking lot of the abandoned Shoppers Drug Mart. The whole store interior was dark, though the windows and doors appeared secure and undamaged. The parking lot contained only one vehicle: a yellow cab that was as empty and lifeless as the store in front of it.

The only way up to the roof of the store from the outside was a metal ladder built into the side of the building. I made my way to the foot of the ladder, adhered my G36C to the side of my backpack to free up both my hands, then climbed the twenty or so rungs to get to the roof. When I finally got there, I found a lone figure sitting against the ledge overlooking the highway.

“Welcome stranger,” Archer said when I sat down with her Covert SRS sniper rifle leaning on the ledge between us, “What brings you here?”

“Thought I’d check up on everyone myself.”

“Ah, the team leader pep talk.”

“I think that’s an overstatement,” I said, unclipping my backpack and laying it down in front of me as I crossed my legs.

“You’re not wrong,” she said cheekily.

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t say I don’t appreciate it.”

“You do, do you?”

Archer gave a grunt. “Of course I do.”

There was a vague hint of something in her voice – something she used to openly and readily express long ago. Over the last couple of years I’d detected this subtle something in her a few times and waited to see if it would manifest, but it never did. I got the feeling however that Genel was merely keeping it in check for my sake.

She did not entertain it this time, either.

“Did you check on the others?” she asked, her voice returning to normal.

“Yeah. Josh says he’s sending out wedding invitations as soon as this is all over,” I relayed the news to her for the sake of conversation.

“That’s great. We all need something to look forward to, right?”

“Most people do.”

Archer paused at that. I waited for her to comment on it, but ultimately she decided not to.

“And Chrissy? How’s she doing?” she asked instead.

“Said she’s got a lot on her mind.”

“Don’t we all.”

“That’s what I told her.”

“Give her some time,” Archer said gently, “I know you’re worried about her but—”

“Who said that I was?”

She sighed.

“I know you’re worried about the team, but she’s only been with us for three days,” she corrected herself, faking an exhausted tone, “Do you really miss Naomi that much?”

“I’m not fond of change.”

“Ian,” Archer said reprovingly.

“Relax. I didn’t say I wasn’t fond of Angel.”

“Oh, good. So a wonderful relationship can still have a chance to blossom?”

Few people could keep up with Genel’s rapid switches from serious to humorous and vice versa; I was one of them.

“I suppose so.”

“Really?” Archer’s voice rose in pitch as she exaggerated her shock.

“The professional kind,” I elaborated with some firmness.

I practically felt her deflating beside me. “Aw, boo.”

It was my turn to sigh. I got to my feet and reattached my backpack to my torso.

“I’m headed back to the gas station,” I told her without much fanfare, “The convoy should be here soon.”

“Roger,” Archer said, reverting back to serious mode.

I made my way down the ladder and crossed 52nd again, taking up my position behind the car wash, opposite the corner where Angel was now standing.

It was only fifteen minutes later, at 1810, that Archer’s sharp voice came through over the team channel.

“Heads up, I’ve got eyes on three sets of headlights coming down this way, two klicks out. Looks like our intel’s good.”

“Copy that,” I said, then addressed the whole team. “Ready up, Shadow Team.”

I moved the lenses of my pair of night vision goggles from their resting place on my forehead to align with my eyes. The whole world around me instantly turned to green. I pulled my current magazine free from my G36C’s magwell to double check that the mag was full, then reinserted it.

I glanced past the gas pumps at Goliath, who was bringing the stock of his LMG to his shoulder and charging the SAW’s bolt to chamber a round. Afterwards, I looked to my right at Angel, who was now holding her Vector at the ready and prepared to lay down fire.

“All right, remember: we need Nathan Steele alive. Wait for my go before we move to neutralization,” I reminded everyone, pressing my right shoulder against the corner of the car wash.

“Solid copy,” Angel replied.

“Confirmed, waiting on your go,” Goliath said.

“Archer, you ready?” I peered from my corner of the car wash and looked ahead to the roof of the Shoppers. I couldn’t quite see her from here, but I heard her just fine.

“Affirmative, Knight.”

All four of us waited as the rumble of the approaching trucks steadily increased in volume. In less than thirty seconds, the sound of three heavy duty military engines became loud enough to drown out whispers and normal conversations. I peered out from my cover in time to see the lead truck crossing the middle of the intersection.

Right as its front bumper was almost aligned with the trash bin marker we had planted on the sidewalk, two distinct, controlled explosions went off nearly at the same time. These were followed by the unmistakeable splutter of a failing motor engine as the lead truck slowed and wobbled to a halt in its lane.

The second and third trucks, not anticipating the effects of the claymore mines we set on the road, screeched in unison as they fought to come to an abrupt stop to avoid crashing into one another. Even from fifty metres away, I heard several cries and shouts from the occupants of the three stalled vehicles.

Less than ten seconds later, I saw several uniformed soldiers carrying identical M4 carbines streaming out of the trucks.

“Standby,” I murmured over the comms, watching and keeping count of the rough number of soldiers that were already outside and forming a defensive perimeter, “Standby…”

Once about ninety percent of the expected twenty-six soldiers were out of the trucks, I gave the order.

“Go loud, open fire!”

Over to my ten o’clock, Goliath unleashed a barrage of light machine gun fire in the direction of the first truck. I poked part of my body out from cover and aimed my G36C at the second truck and depressed the trigger, sending my own rounds at the side of the vehicle. My bullets pinged noisily off the steel chassis of the truck. To my three o’clock, Angel fired at the last truck with her Vector on full-auto.

With our combined suppressing fire, the soldiers that had formed a defensive perimeter close to the trucks started yelling louder and scrambling to get on the other side of the vehicles, away from our stream of rounds. I watched each soldier visible from my vantage point clearly suffering from disorientation at the sudden incoming fire and their lack of a precise bead on our whereabouts. They fell back behind each truck as bullet after bullet angrily struck their only viable means for protection.

“Reloading!” Angel called out over the comms right after her share of gunfire abruptly stopped.

I switched to firing short, controlled bursts to conserve the remaining ammo in my current magazine, alternately peppering the second and third trucks with my G36C. About two seconds later, my rifle clicked dry on an empty magazine.

“Angel, back up!” the team XO sounded off and resumed firing.

“Reloading,” I called out, popping back behind cover. “Don’t let them breathe!”

As Angel covered for me, I hit the magazine release of my weapon, flicking the gun sideways to quickly eject the spent mag as I reached for one of the loaded magazines in my vest’s ammo pouches. I swiftly slammed a fresh magazine into the well and charged the bolt to chamber a round. I leaned back out from cover, aimed at the second truck, and continued firing.

The idea was to constantly keep the enemy reluctant to attempt to return fire, effectively minimalizing the danger they posed to us while also minimizing our rounds’ chances of accidentally hitting one of the soldiers.

One more magazine swap between me and Angel later, Goliath’s LMG ceased its barrage.

“MG reloading, cover me!” he called out.

“Copy, covering,” I responded, then proceeded to distribute my fire between the lead and second trucks.

As I estimated around two-thirds of my current magazine was already spent, Archer’s relatively calmer voice came through over the channel.

“Got a positive ID on Nathan Steele behind the second vehicle. I’ve got one other hostile in my way.”

“Solid copy,” I replied as my rifle clicked dry again. “You are go for collateral.”

“Roger. Standby.”

I retreated back into cover and performed another reload. As I slapped another mag in, a distinct duo of shots that I recognized as having come from Archer’s SRS rifle pierced the evening air. Right after her sniper rifle’s two consecutive reports, Goliath announced that his M249 was back in the fight by continuing to provide suppressing fire.

“Confirmed hit on target. He’s down,” Archer reported in that cool, collected tone she always took on when she was in her sniper mindset. “One collateral, KIA.”

“Copy, target is down,” I replied, charging the bolt of my rifle. “Shadow, proceed with termination.”

“Copy!” Archer and Goliath called out simultaneously.

“Archer, try to flush them out of cover,” I told our marksman, aiming my optic’s reticle at the front of the lead truck, anticipating my enemy’s movements.

“Roger that.”

The SRS rang out another two times before I saw one soldier break cover at the front of the lead truck. I squeezed the trigger and cut down the hostile with a controlled burst of fire. Two more came into view right after the first soldier fell. I placed a burst squarely on the second soldier’s chest, bringing him down permanently. The third managed to fire two bursts from his carbine, pinging rounds off a car barely a metre to my left before I landed another burst of my own to his neck and face.

Archer fired her SRS twice more before I noticed more M4 gunfire ringing out, though none of them seemed to be directed at the three of us in the gas station.

“I’m out,” Archer said in a mechanical tone, “Reloading. I’m taking heavy fire.”

“Goliath, provide cover fire. I’m moving up,” I called out.

“Roger, I’ve got you covered!”

“Angel, move up north and flank hostiles behind the third vehicle!”

“Copy, moving!” she responded. I caught her lithe figure breaking cover in my peripheral vision and sprinting toward the parked cars to the north on McIvor Boulevard.

As for me, I briskly moved west, hugging the wall of the car wash until I was nearly at the sidewalk by the northbound lanes of 52nd Street. I ducked behind an SUV parked by the tire pump station just as rounds tore at the other side of my cover.

Goliath’s M249 thundered over to my seven o’clock now, and the rattle of rounds on metal against the other side of the SUV stopped.

“I’ve got you, boss. Move up, move up!”

I moved around the hood of the SUV and broke into a sprint, crossing the sidewalk and the two northbound lanes of 52nd Street, successfully making it to the driver’s side of the lead truck. I stuck to the side of the vehicle as I steadily maneuvered to its front.

Archer’s SRS boomed again, prompting one of the soldiers still standing on the other side of my cover to yell, “Man down!”

“Archer, is the target still incapacitated?”

“Affirmative,” Archer answered promptly as another shot from her powerful rifle rang out. “Still on the ground by the second truck. Keep your aim at chest height and you won’t hit him.”

“Copy that,” I said, sliding over to take cover by the rightmost headlights of the lead truck, such that I could now clearly hear several soldiers’ voices just around the corner of where I was crouched.

“I’m in position,” Angel’s voice announced on comms, sounding slightly out of breath, “Knight, I’ll draw fire, you take them from behind.”

“Copy, Angel. On you.”

“Three, two, one… firing!”

In the distance, from somewhere to the north, I heard Angel’s Vector barking in rapid-fire, semi-auto mode. Someone further along to the side of the last truck screamed out: “Contact, contact! Thirty metres north! TURN AROUND!”

As soon as I heard M4 rifles discharging in response to the callout, I leaned out from cover with my G36C raised.

By the lead truck, there were only five soldiers still up. Four close by were already dead – the three I took down from behind the car wash, and a fourth that either Archer or Goliath neutralized. I carefully aimed at the closest soldier, who was reloading his rifle and oblivious to my presence.

I squeezed off a burst that tore through the soldier’s right arm and punched into his side. When he toppled over, two of the other soldiers closest to him began to turn in my direction but never got the chance to retaliate as I fired at them square into their backs. My rounds penetrated their ballistic vests and buried themselves in the two’s torsos.

The last two still standing next to the lead truck saw me leaning out from the front of the vehicle. One of them managed to shout “Shit, hostile at the front of truck one! Host—” before half his head practically exploded, showering his companion with blood.

“Another one down,” Archer said after her shot connected with the target’s head.

I fired another controlled burst and cut down the last soldier before he could raise his M4 in my direction.

Down the side of the trucks, I could still see about a dozen or so soldiers standing. Some of them were upright, others were on one knee. Most of them were firing to the north, where Angel was positioned. A couple were shooting at the roof of the Shoppers at Archer. Three were facing in my direction, trying to get a bead on me in the darkness. Thanks to the goggles I was wearing, I could clearly see them. Before I fired again, I caught sight of one soldier sitting immobile against the rear right wheel of the second truck – Nathan Steele. He was still holding his M4 rifle and firing from a sitting position in Archer’s direction.

I took down the three looking my way, then a fourth who was firing at Archer. Another shot from the store rooftop pierced through the torso of the last man who was still firing in that direction. I ducked back behind cover and put down my G36C, which was spent of all ammo.

As I drew out my Walther PPQ from my left thigh holster, I heard one of the last several soldiers yelling:

“Charlie Three-One, this is Echo Four-One! Cannot hold position – I say again, cannot hold position! We are at seventy percent casualties! Send backup, my coordinates! Charlie Three-One, do you copy?!”

I poked back out of cover, sighted on one of the soldiers down the way still standing, and pulled the trigger. My shot landed on his back, above the Kevlar and below his helmet. I switched targets, downing a second soldier from a shot to the side of his neck as he turned to return fire in my direction. Archer fired three more times, each round permanently downing one hostile.

I stood up from my hiding spot, maneuvered a little ways down the lead truck’s side, and fired my PPQ at the last four remaining soldiers. Two went down when my bullets found their necks. The third caught a round in the ballistic vest, knocking him to the ground, where Archer put a .338 round through his heart and finished him off. I missed the fourth and last one but he was promptly riddled with .45 ACPs in the thighs and chest by Angel.

When Angel neutralized the last remaining threat, Archer got on the radio again. “All hostiles down. We’re clear.”

“Roger, all clear. Archer. Displace and head over to the truck. Angel, you too. Goliath, come to my position and secure the corporal.”

“Roger,” Archer and Angel said together.

“On it,” Goliath replied.

In the meantime, I trained my pistol at the only Army soldier still alive. He appeared visibly panicked, practically aiming his M4 at several directions in the dark. One of his legs was laying straight out on the pavement, and I recognized the tear in his pants’ calf region where Archer’s round caught him.

“Corporal Nathan Steele,” I called out to the one remaining survivor of the convoy crew, “Drop your weapon and put your hands over your head.”

He reflexively trained his M4 in the direction of my voice.

“You’ve been warned, Corporal. Put down the gun or I will shoot. You have three seconds to comply.”

Corporal Steele seemed to hesitate, his grip on the M4 not slackening.

I aimed my PPQ and fired a warning shot at the side of the second truck, the round pinging noisily off the metal. Upon hearing this, the last survivor tossed his rifle several feet to his front and threw his hands up.

I kept my pistol trained on the immobile soldier as I briskly approached where he sat. Upon closer inspection, I recognized him by his father’s blue-gray eyes and the scar on the lower part of his face. He appeared to gaze at me with the look of a terrified animal cornered by several predators.

“D-don’t kill me, I surrender!” he whimpered, his eyes widening as he struggled to place me in the darkness.

Careful to keep my pistol pointed at him, I knelt down and quickly searched him for other weapons. I confiscated a Beretta M9 from his thigh holster and a KF-BAR knife from his belt, tossing the two weapons out of reach. Afterward, I searched him for communications equipment, finding and extracting a handheld radio from the shoulder of his Kevlar vest.

Goliath came up beside me and dug out some zip ties from his backpack.

“Secure him,” I said, standing back up and beginning to tinker with the military radio.

“Got it,” Goliath replied, bending down to start binding the corporal up.

I holstered my handgun just as the radio crackled and abruptly came to life. A slightly hassled voice of a man came out of the device.

“Echo Four-One, Echo Four-One, this is Charlie Three-One, how copy? Repeat your last, over. Echo Four-One, are you there?”

I brought the radio close to my face and held down the send button on the side of the device. “Echo Four-One is currently tied up at the moment.”

“Who is this? Identify yourself!” the man demanded gruffly.

“The one who put the convoy out of action. Get me a direct line to Major Bradley Steele.”

“I repeat, identify yourself! Put Echo Four-One on the line.”

“I’ve already told you who I am. Let me talk to the major, Charlie Three-One.”

“You do not have the authority to demand that from me.”

I walked over to where Corporal Steele sat, his hands already bound together by zip ties behind his back. Archer’s wounding shot had caused his right pants leg to stain with blood; we’d have to patch him up soon so he doesn’t lose too much of it.

“Who are you guys?” he babbled, looking from me to Goliath and vice versa. “Canadian Army? Special Forces?”

Without answering him, I stomped hard on his uninjured leg, jamming the hard sole of my boot down on the ankle and pressing consistently down on the bone. As Nathan shrieked in pain, I held the radio out and made sure the soldier’s screams would be picked up by the device.

After letting Charlie Three-One sample Echo’s agony, I brought the radio back close to my face, keeping my foot planted on the corporal’s ankle.

“Get me a line to Major Steele, Charlie Three-One,” I said again, making sure I could be heard over Nathan’s screams and whimpers, “Or I will personally inform him you neglected to do so and cost him his son.”

“I said, you do not have the autho—”

I pressed down even harder on Nathan’s leg, eliciting a howl that filled the otherwise still air.

The soldier on the other end of the line fell silent for several seconds, then finally said grudgingly:

“Fine. I’m patching you through to the major directly.”

I lifted my foot off the corporal’s ankle, and his screams subsided to grunts of pain.

Goliath stood beside me. “Jesus. I’ve said this before, but you’re scary, Knight.”

I didn’t respond to his comment. I waited in silence for a minute before the radio crackled again, this time accompanied by a different, more placid voice.

“This is Major Bradley Steele. Identify yourself.”

“Good to be speaking with you, Major. I’m afraid who I am is unimportant right now. From what I understand, you’re in charge of some important operations here in the city.”

The major did not sound threatened at all by some random voice demanding to speak to him. Either that, or he was good at keeping his tone level at the moment.

“That is correct,” he answered simply.

“Good, good. I have some questions about your… work. Come meet me at the Co-Op grocery store on 163 Quarry Park Boulevard at 2100 hours. We’ll talk face-to-face there.”

“What makes you think I will be foolish enough to come walking into an obvious trap?”

“Because I have something… no, someone you know right here with me, and frankly I believe he doesn’t wish to die.”

“What are you talking about?”

I held the radio toward the corporal, who was till grimacing in pain. I nudged his boot with mine. “Nathan, your father is on the line.”

“Huh?”

“Go on, he wants to hear from you.”

The corporal raised his head and his anxious eyes fell on the handheld radio I was placing close to his face. He looked up at me, then Goliath, then back at me.

Eventually, the young soldier opened his mouth and spoke to the radio. “M-Major Steele? Sir? It’s Corporal Nathan Steele.”

The relief and trepidation slowly began to creep into the major’s initially neutral voice. “Nathan? Nathan, is that you? Are you okay? What happened to the convoy?”

“The convoy was attacked, sir. Everyone else is… is dead. I’m the only one left, sir.”

“What’s your status, son? Are you injured?”

“They got me in the leg, sir. But I can… I can still fight,” Nathan injected a sudden burst of defiance in his words.

“That’s good. That’s good to hear, Nathan. Listen, just hang in there a little longer. I’m coming to get you, understand? Whoever they are, we’ll pay them back, son. Just hang in there and wait.”

“Understood,” Nathan replied, his voice sounding more resolute, “I’ll be okay, sir.”

I brought the radio back to my face and walked a couple steps away from the injured soldier.

“I must caution you against bringing the whole Army with you, Major,” I told him, “I simply wish to speak to you alone. If you insist on bringing the cavalry with you, I will unfortunately have to take additional action.”

“What do you mean, ‘additional action’?” the major sounded a little angry now, his composure from earlier rapidly eroding.

I paused, allowing him to stew in his anger for a moment before answering: “I’ll leave the deciphering entirely to your discretion, Major Steele. What happens to your son is now up to you.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ve already told you. I want an audience with you.”

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, you bastard,” the major snarled.

“Precisely why I want answers from you, Major. 163 Quarry Park Boulevard. Tonight, at 2100.”

With that, I tossed the radio aside and gestured to Goliath. “Pick him up. Have Angel patch up that leg. If he loses it, it could be a problem.”

Goliath grabbed the younger Steele by the arm and hauled him to his feet. The soldier gave me a defiant sneer.

“You fuckers are dead men, you understand? The Army will hunt you down and kill you for what you’ve done.”

“I’m sure they will, Nathan. Goliath, toss him in the trunk. Move the ammo bag to the backseat.”

Goliath’s eyebrows rose partly from behind his goggles. “The trunk?”

I nodded. “It won’t kill him. Let’s move.”



A twenty-minute drive from our ambush point brought us to the neighbourhood of Quarry Park, one of the younger parts of Calgary. This area was a mix between residential properties and corporate spaces, the latter of which belonged to conglomerates like Imperial Oil, Jacobs, CBRE, Cardel, and Lafarge Western Canada. As with the other parts of the city we’d visited since the occupation began, this one was quiet and devoid of any civilian or military activity.

Goliath parked the truck on the other side of the Co-Op grocery store, away from 18th Street, where we expected any land traffic to come through. We’d also deduced that the major would be coming from downtown, where the bulk of his forces was situated. Based on this likelihood, Shadow Team agreed to watch the northern approach; Goliath and Angel would be posted at an intersection further up north as a diversionary force to try and draw any unwanted attention away from me if need be. We believed the major would come to the meeting place with some escorts – it only made sense to come prepared for a trap, hostage or no hostage. A dozen or two by way of support I could deal with, but anything more than thirty would be more complicated. I didn’t feel that Steele would be foolish enough to bring that many troops and possibly provoke me into harming his son, but in the likely event that he does bring a handful of forces to try and cover his back, Goliath and Angel would be there to keep them busy at least, to ensure the major would be cut off from all support as much as possible.

Archer, meanwhile, would take up overwatch on the roof of the Jacobs building across the street from the grocery store. In case the major comes with some support – and I was counting on it – straight tot the meeting place, Archer would be able to provide me with sniper support if things get dicey. The distance from the roof of the Jacobs building to at least the parking lot in front of Co-Op was between seven hundred and eight hundred metres, so Archer packed a conversion kit and modified her Covert Stealth Recon Scout to a regular, long barrel one more suitable for longer ranges.

As for me, I would hole up inside the grocery store and wait for the target to arrive. I took Nathan Steele and secured him to a cement column by the dairy section at the back of the darkened store; no sense making it easy for the elder Steele making off with his son by placing the corporal right at the cashiers’ area. Once the major was inside the co-op, I’d make my move to pacify and capture him. If he brings backup inside, those men will need to go first. If all goes as planned, Shadow Team would bring both father and son to Haven where we could interrogate the officer in relative safety. It wouldn’t be necessary per se to bring the son along too, but I figured the father would be more inclined to give us answers if we kept the son alive for the time being.

By 2030, everyone was already in place.

I stood up from where I sat about an arm’s length away from the captive Steele and stretched my arms and legs. As I donned my night vision goggles again, the corporal uttered another threat he had repeated numerous times in the past two hours he’d spent bound to the column beside me.

“You and your friends are all going to die, you know that? There are only four of you and hundreds of us. The major is on his way with more troops and he’ll slaughter every last one of—”

I mostly tried my damnedest to ignore this soldier’s broken record threats and moaning since 1900, but now after having endured his attempts to demoralize me and my team, I was regretting my decision not to stuff a rag in his mouth. A few times in the last hour I had to consciously keep my hand away from my gun when he started mentioning members of my team in violent and obscene remarks and threats, particularly when it came to Genel and Angel. I did want the soldier conscious and vocal for when his father came to the rescue, so I suppressed the urge to at least knock him out. The sight and sound of his son in a perilous situation can make a father reckless and abandon just a smidge of caution for me to gain an advantage.

Still.

I kicked the soldier’s uninjured left shin and caused him to yelp and stop in midsentence.

“Quiet!” I hissed at him, feeling massively irritated at this point.

Managing to silence the corporal for the moment, I tapped my earpiece. “Everyone report in.”

“Angel here,” the team XO’s voice was the first to respond. “Goliath and I are set up by the intersection as planned.”

“Archer reporting,” Shadow’s marksman chimed in, “All clear out here at the moment. How are things in there, Knight?”

“Fantastic.”

She chuckled faintly for all the team to hear.

“Angel, Goliath, let me know the instant any Army vehicles approach your position. Your job is to discourage too many hostiles from joining the major on his way here, but if there are too many to handle, either hold fire or pull back.”

“Understood, Knight,” Angel responded promptly.

“Archer, eyes to the north,” I said to the Shadow sniper.

“Already on it.”

I pulled out my Walther PPQ, now fitted with a lightweight suppressor, and checked the magazine and chamber.

“You guys don’t get it,” the younger Steele beside me started running his mouth again, “You don’t have a hope in hell of winning. It’s simple math. There are too many of us.”

I suppressed the urge to try my luck at shooting his mouth off without killing him and simply walked down the nearest aisle, heading for the front of the store. I found some cover behind a waist-high freezer that contained packs of formerly frozen burger patties and sausages and waited. The position gave me a good view of the entire main entrance and foyer. The entire store was bathed in darkness, with plenty of shelves for cover and overall lots of corners and reasonably enclosed spaces.

One other thing I’d learned from my training days at the C.O.S. was to play to my strengths whenever possible. Fighting fair is tantamount to a death wish; it’s important to seize every scrap of tactical advantage you can get to come out on top.

At the end of the day, war is a dirty business. You don’t get a medal for bowing in front of an enemy before you blow his head off. The smarter of two adversaries will always emerge victorious over the noble and naïve.

Dark, close quarters engagements just happened to be another specialty of mine.

Fifteen minutes after I’d taken my position behind the freezer, Angel’s voice raised me on the channel.

“Angel to Knight, come in.”

“Knight here. Go ahead.”

“Got activity just at the off-ramp down the street. Four military Humvees have stopped just by the Boston Pizza place.”

I checked my TACPAD for the time: 2048. If the major was in one of those vehicles, he was on track to ‘meet’ me here.

“Understood. Maintain eyes on.”

There was silence over the channel for about thirty seconds, then Angel spoke again.

“One of the vehicles is moving this way.”

“The other three?” I asked.

“They’re holding position. Assume the major is in the mobile Humvee.”

So, Steele doesn’t want to jeopardize his son’s life by bringing all his accompanying troops to the meeting place. Smart.

“Copy that. Let the moving Humvee pass. Keep watching the ones that stayed there. Goliath, any idea how many contacts are holding position?”

“These are standard issue Humvees, so assuming no one’s sitting on any laps, I’d say there are six personnel in each vehicle, max,” Goliath said dryly.

Eighteen contacts holding position, six on their way here. Just about the response I’d count as normal but cautious.

“Enemy vehicle just passed us, Knight,” Angel reported, “It’s heading your way.”

“Roger that. Angel and Goliath, maintain a low profile but be ready to engage. On my go, or if they mobilize in my direction, engage and terminate all contacts. Goliath, do you have the M79?”

“Affirmative, boss.”

“Keep it ready.”

“Got it.”

“Archer, do you have eyes on the vehicle?”

“Affirmative,” Archer answered, her tone back to that calm, cool one that came out whenever she was behind a scope. “Got headlights heading south on 18th. ETA to your position, two minutes.”

“Copy.”

I waited another couple of minutes before I felt and heard the rumble of a vehicle right outside the store. Archer raised me on the comms again.

“Heads up, Knight. Target vehicle has stopped in front of the store. I count five tangos stepping out.”

“Can you confirm visual on the HVI?”

“Hmm. Wait one… Ah, that’s an affirmative. Major Bradley Steele is on his way to the main entrance, flanked by four soldiers. Be advised, the ones with him are armed with standard M4s with mounted taclights. The major himself is unarmed at the moment but appears to be carrying a sidearm at his hip. One last hostile appears to be staying behind to man the fifty on the Humvee.”

“Drop the gunner on my signal.”

“Roger. Waiting on you. Watch yourself, Knight.”

“Roger that. Going radio silent for a few minutes. Keep me updated as necessary.”

I stayed hidden behind the low freezer but kept a bit of my head poking a little bit out of cover to keep my eyes on the entrance. Not a minute later, I saw several wandering lights casting illumination through the open entrance.

“Five contacts are heading inside the store now, Knight. Good luck,” Archer informed me, then went silent.

I kept a quiet watch as five men cautiously entered the store and stopped at the floral section just by the entrance. The man in the back, wearing no helmet but in otherwise the same navy uniform as the others, was Major Steele. He was now holding his sidearm, a double action revolver, in one hand and a torch in the other. He looked around the darkened interior of the co-op and waved his light in a couple directions.

“Simmons, Adams,” Steele gestured toward two of his men, “You’re with me. De Santa, Stevens, spread out. Anything happens, sound off. RV at the back of the store.”

“Yes, sir.”

Steele and two soldiers stuck together, slowly walking down an aisle toward the middle of the store. One other soldier stalked toward the farther side of the building, while the last one took an aisle about two or three aisles away from my position. As soon as the nearest one vanished down his chosen aisle, I stood up from my hiding spot and briskly walked over to the far end of my aisle, being careful about balancing speed and stealth.

Once I was at the far end of my aisle by the back wall of the store, where my target and his men were heading, it was all too easy to tell from which aisle the nearest hostile was coming through. The nearest one was slowly heading down Aisle Four, plainly announced by his tactical light shining down on the floor and the back wall. I waited by a shelf of cooking spices between Aisles Three and Four, holding my PPQ in my left hand and my knife in an icepick grip in my right fist. When the heavy footsteps of the approaching soldier was loud enough for me to tell that he was right around the corner, I sprang out from cover.

Keeping my body low to the floor, I managed to duck under his trained rifle, then stabbed my knife into the soldier’s left thigh. He let out the beginnings of a yell of alarm and pain before I thrust my left arm up to point the muzzle of my pistol under his chin. I pulled the trigger once, my weapon discharging a relatively discreet and metallic pffft and taking the man down with a round to the brain.

One down, I thought as I carefully lowered the body silently to the floor and pulled my blade free.

Wasting no time, I moved as quickly and as quietly as I could down the aisle, eventually coming to the front end of the store. I then quickly moved from one aisle end to another until I happened upon the one where the other lone soldier was moving through. He was nearly at the end of Aisle Fourteen, his back turned naturally to me, and was unaware of my presence.

I briskly strode down Aisle Fourteen after him, moving quickly but keeping the sound of my footsteps as close to inaudible as I could. When I was about fifteen feet away from him though, he eventually heard my boots coming up behind him and began to turn around.

Before he could complete a one-hundred eighty degree turn in a clockwise fashion, I aimed and fired two suppressed shots, one each into both his legs. He grunted and staggered to one knee. Using this time to close the gap between us, I caught him from behind before he fell over and buried my knife into the right side of his neck. As the soldier started to choke on his own blood, his arms went slack gradually and dropped his M4 to the floor, where it landed on the surface with a dull clatter that I was certain Steele and his last accompanying men had to have heard.

From several aisles to the left, I thought I heard a voice say something like, “What was that?”

As I dropped my latest kill to the floor, I heard the radio mounted to his shoulder crackle and the major’s voice came through, hushed and low: “Stevens, respond! Stevens!”

I pulled my knife free of the man’s neck and nimbly moved back down the aisle. As I reached the front of the store again, I tapped my earpiece.

“Archer, you are clear to neutralize the gunner outside.”

“Solid copy, Knight. Taking the shot.”

I rounded the corner and maneuvered into Aisle Fifteen, then stalked my way back to the back end of the aisle. I noticed another pair of taclights illuminating the floor running along the back wall of the store, and whoever was waving them around was moving this way, most likely to check on Stevens.

I stopped at the threshold of Aisle Fifteen in time to hear the last two soldiers, Simmons and Adams, speaking and walking in the next aisle over.

“Major, Corporal Stevens is KIA. Negative visual on the enemy. I repeat, no visual on the enemy, over.”

I peered out into the back hallway and saw the major kneeling over where I had secured his son to the column by the dairy section about six or seven aisles down. From the looks of things, he still hadn’t cut his son loose of the rope I’d used to bind the younger Steele to the column. If he does manage to free his son, I could be faced with a situation where I’d have to kill or critically injure the son. I wanted Nathan Steele alive and as unharmed as possible.

Got to pick up the pace.

I inched around the corner and took a little peek at Aisle Fourteen. The last two subordinates that came in with Steele were barely five feet away from where I stood. Both had their backs to me. One of them was crouched down and examining Stevens’ body, while the other was standing to the right, looking down at his partner. I quietly sheathed my tactical knife and took my pistol in both hands.

I darted out of cover, lined up my sights on the crouching soldier, and fired once at his buttocks. He shouted in pain and doubled over, bringing a hand to the point of the bullet’s impact. The second soldier whirled around and aimed his assault rifle at me, momentarily blinding me through my goggles with his taclights before I dashed forward and grabbed the barrel of his M4 with my right hand. I pushed the barrel upward just as the soldier let out a burst of rounds that went wide toward the ceiling, filling the store with an obnoxiously loud noise, then I quickly aimed my pistol at his exposed torso and fired twice. I didn’t wait to see if those two rounds penetrated his armour or not – once he was at least stunned by the impact of the first two rounds, I thrust my arm under his and placed a third round straight into his right eye from a low angle. As the soldier’s body went limp, I caught the other soldier starting to recover from my shot to his rear end and beginning to lift his own M4 with the muzzle pointing in my direction. Without thinking, I quickly fired another suppressed shot that tore into his right shoulder, stunning him again and giving me enough time to line up one last shot to connect with his temple. He slumped over face down to the floor and joined his colleague in painting the floor red.

I straightened up and changed my Walther’s partially emptied magazine with a fully loaded one.

“Simmons? Adams?” I heard the major several aisles down outright shouting at the dark store now, sounding increasingly tense. “What’s your status? Respond! Respond, damn it!”

Sit tight, Major. I’ll be right with you.

Abandoning the bodies of Simmons and Adams, I headed back down the aisle toward the store’s front area and retreated several aisles down in the direction where I killed the first soldier. I ducked into Aisle Five and briskly walked its length again as quietly as I could until I was at its threshold. I peeked over in the direction of Aisles Six and beyond and saw both the corporal and major about ten metres away from my position. The corporal was still sitting, his torso bound to the column by the rope I used. He was looking in the same direction as his father, who was facing the entirely wrong direction: where I took down Simmons and Adams. He readied his revolver in his right hand and was pointing his light in the direction where the report of the M4 originated.

Perfect.

I took one of the flash grenades off my utility belt and holstered my pistol. I switched the flashbang over to my left hand and primed it.

“Charlie Five-Five, this is Major Steele,” I heard the major starting to speak into his radio, “Proceed to coordinates as planned. Be advised—”

I cocked my arm out from behind cover and tossed the flash grenade at the two Steeles, then ducked fully back into cover to protect myself from the ensuing effects of the grenade.

“MAJOR! FLASHBANG!” I heard Nathan yell before a momentary flash of light painted the nearby walls and shelves, accompanied by a loud bang that filled the store much like the report of the M4.

The instant the flashbang went off, I unsheathed my knife again and charged out into the back hallway. When I darted in, I found Nathan shaking his head vigorously where he sat helplessly, while Bradley Steele was stumbling away from his son in a manner that was typical of a man who caught the full blast of a flash grenade. He staggered clumsily on his wobbly legs, dropping his torch to the floor and using his freed hand to feel around for something to steady himself with.

I sprinted behind him and jabbed my knife straight into the back of the elder Steele’s right thigh. He screamed and fell to one knee, at which point I quickly yanked the blade out of his leg, tossed it aside, wrapped my right arm tightly around his neck in a half Nelson and squeezed. I gradually applied more pressure to my hold every half second or so. When his body lowered as he struggled against my chokehold, I lowered mine as well until I was eventually on my back with the major in my grip above me. He flailed his legs desperately and dropped his revolver, opting to use both hands to try and pry my arm off his throat. He tried to wedge his fingers under my forearm and in the crook of my elbow, but I squeezed harder and prevented him from finding any room to slip his fingers through my hold. After several seconds of continued pressure, his jerks and flails tapered off and eventually I felt all the fight leave his body. When his arms fell to the floor at my sides, I cautiously released Steele and threw him off me so that he was lying face down on the floor.

I sat up and took a couple deep, hard breaths. I reached over and placed a finger on the side of the major’s neck, confirming a strong pulse against my fingertip.

I pulled out a zip tie from the pocket of my windbreaker and worked on securing the major’s wrists. As I was finishing up, the team channel came to life in my ear and Angel’s voice – mingling with the sound of automatic gunfire close by – came through.

“Angel to Knight, come in! Knight, do you copy?”

I tapped my earpiece after verifying that the major’s bonds were securely holding his wrists together behind his back. “Knight copies. Angel, what’s going on over there?”

“Knight!” Angel was practically yelling over the comms as gunfire rattled in the background, “Goliath and I have engaged the backup forces. They started their approach to the meeting point about a minute ago.”

“Understood. Are you two all right? Can you hold your position?”

“Affirmative,” Angel replied over the cacophony of gunfire, “We’re under fire from a fifty cal, but Goliath managed to destroy the first two Humvees with the M79. We’re just mopping up the last five, six hostiles in the last Humvee.”

“Do you need an assist? Archer and I can be there in—”

“Negative,” Angel cut across me, “We can take them. We’ll report back when we’re done here. Angel out.”

A direct channel to Archer opened up, initiated by the tech specialist herself. “Knight, it’s Archer. Come in.”

“Knight here. How’s it looking on the exterior?”

“Exterior is clear. I can see flashes of gunfire about two klicks to the north. Angel’s and Goliath’s handiwork. But you are all clear.”

“Copy that. The HVI is secure.”

“Nice work.”

“Archer, displace and get the truck. Meet me in front of the Co-Op so we can load these two into the transport.”

“Roger, will do. Archer out.”

I got to my feet and got to work on dragging the unconscious Steele right to the curb in front of the grocery store. After having done that, I went back for Nathan, who looked utterly flabbergasted that his hope of rescue and my death was dashed within the span of the last few minutes. When I untied him from the column he was bound to and walked him outside, the corporal couldn’t utter a single threat or even plea; he really must have believed his father would save him.

Archer came with out truck between five and ten minutes later and together, we loaded the passed out elder Steele into the front passenger seat and the younger one into the trunk after we blindfolded the both of them. Once they were secured, I piled into the back seat while Archer got back behind the wheel.

I reopened the team channel on my TACPAD and raised the other two Shadow Team members. “Angel, Goliath, status.”

“This is Angel,” the voice of Shadow’s second-in-command replied, this time no longer using a shouting volume. The gunfire in the background had ceased. “Goliath and I are okay. All hostiles neutralized.”

“Good. Archer and I are inbound with the truck. Bradley and Nathan Steele are secure.”

“Gonna be a tight fit on the way home,” Goliath commented lightly.

“You’re driving once we get there. The major is riding shotgun and the corporal is in the trunk. It’ll be a tight fit otherwise.”

“Did you just call me fat?”

“ETA is three minutes. Be ready for exfil. Out.”