A priority comm appeared in Perry's data-pad. Opening it, the first person view of someone inside a small military freighter, holstering a side-arm. A small red silent klaxon appeared softly through the small bay. The camera moved to the side where a black clad man appeared and shouted with a finger up.
"ONE MINUTE TO TARGET."
Nodding, the hands picked up a large duffel bag and looked at the back of the freighter. A large covered pallet awaited its eager release. Thirty seconds in, the cargo door opened and a hard gust of win entered the freighter cargo bay, throwing around papers and a couple of ropes that weren't tied or attached. The red klaxon showed up again and the black clad man ran towards the pallet and pulled a lever, dropping the pallet out. Walking towards the cargo door, that was now functioning as a ramp, the camera looked at the black clad man. The red klaxon appeared for one last time. and the man gave a thumbs up and screamed in the radio again.
"NO PINGS. WE ASSUME EVERYTHING'S DENVER."
The hands made sure the duffel bag was set and secure, before walking slowly right up to the edge. Not bothering to jump, the camera slowly started to fall, increasing its momentum as the view angle turned downwards. And then Perry heard a voice, right before it fell into the dark.
"Assumptions are the mother of all fuck ups."
In the pitch-black, the camera suddenly turned crimson with contrasts, giving way to shapes and forms at last. Small light dots permeated the ground below and a quick look around seemed to indicate it was alone. The sound of the air resisting against the drop was loud and furious, as gravity continued its pull. One hand moved to the opposing hand wrist, and opened up a small wrist-pad where a small grid with two signals showed up. The signals were dropping fast through the grid and an altitude number was racing to zero. One small beep with a blue hue happened.
The hands opened up and the arms stretched causing the body to turn and decreasing the speed of the descent. Not long after, the black duffel bag appeared to the left, unclasped. Opening it, the handle of a weapon was produced, being followed by the main chamber and barrel. A grenade launcher. Grasping it, the wrist-pad beeped again, this time with a yellow hue and a countdown for 30 seconds.
The hands aimed the grenade launcher below, and Perry finally saw the objective. She recognized the compound where Wolfe was being held. Cut short by the dry sound of the grenade launcher being fired, one could see the grenade cartridges flying into the void below, without any explosion. No. The countdown hit the 20 seconds, with the signal that was closer to land disappearing and a large swathe of blue energy growing uncontrollably and eating up all the area below.
"IMGINT loading."
The radio voice cracked through the video. Suddenly, several dots were painted in the camera GUI. Not even five seconds later, one of the dots was painted gold, as a green circle was drawn on a specific point of the ceiling. At the same time, the rounds fired by the grenade launcher exploded all over the compound.
"VIP painted gold. All electronics burned. Show's yours. Holding for EXOP."
The hands disappeared and for a while so did the sight of the target building as the camera turned upwards toward the horizon. Finally it turned back down showing off that the person in question was diving now, feet first, with a small package under them. The ground grew closer and closer with each passing second. And the breathing, that Perry now noticed was always present, stopped moments before hitting the building's roof.
The package exploded and a metal like shield expanded from it. Foam, dust and a hellish racket was all that came through the camera for a while. Shots were fired, screams were heard and finally silence took its seat as the cement particles settled. The camera trailed the shotgun. Four bodies were on the floor. One missing part of its head, one leaning against the wall, bowels tasting air and dust for the first time and the other two lying down on pools of their own blood. The gold symbol flashed on the HUD, marking the objective of this all. The shotgun was thrown to the floor alongside a small black pack. An SMG took its place and the soft hum of it being energized filled the dead room. Shouts at the distance were finally heard and the camera started its run.
Kicking down two doors and blocking the only access to that floor, the last lonesome guard died with a spray to the head. Finally, the target was on sight. Julia Wolfe, bound to a metal bed, trying to raise her head towards the camera's direction. Suddenly one of the hands produced a small handgun that then shot a dart at Wolfe's leg that immediately collapsed. Checking her vitals, the hands effortlessly removed the bindings and grabbed Wolfe over the shoulder. Another small black pack was left where Wolfe was. The camera HUD flashed, with several red dots closing on their location.
"ESQUIRE-1 secure. Secondary extraction. ETA?"
"Twenty seconds. Conclusion?"
"Scorched earth. Danger close."
Not even waiting for a reply, the camera started a run towards the room where it performed its entry. The dots kept getting close, funneling to the entrance of that floor. Suddenly they turned back downwards and an explosion was heard in the adjacent room. Not that it mattered. The camera didn't show the how, but only the what. It suddenly rose through the hole in the ceiling, up to the scorched rooftop. The sound of ship engines revving as they closed in, grew. The camera, turning around, showed the silhouette of a small hover cargo car speeding towards them. Gunfire and heavy lasers dotted the sky, trying to hit the agile ship. It however did not waver from its predestined course, skimming the top of the compound. Rising something like a climbing ax, the free hand threw it on the air and it was promptly caught by a small net that was dropped from the back of the cargo car. Like fishes caught in a speeding motion, the camera looked back at the now distancing building and focused on the metallic military butterfly bombs that were hovering down towards the ground.
As the first one touched the rooftop of the building, a massive explosion rocked the building. And another. And another. All in sequence, ripping the compound apart.
"ETA for EXTOU?"
"Forty seconds. Two clicks out. Scope's clear."
The voice then spoke as if she was not speaking to the radio, but to the viewer.
"Perry. Our business is concluded. She'll be in Curacao."
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