The Hunters

Chapter Seventy

 The team reached the compound in incredible time–their daily runs seemed to make the effort easy. Once there, they wordlessly fell into position, trailing the exterior at a distance until they found the perfect spots. Ghost set himself up for sniping into the side entrance, where he could keep an eye on the team as well.

I stood as they moved, hearing them whisper whenever trip wires or IEDs were discovered. "Kalberg, you were right," Andersen grumbled, pointing out yet another wire.

"Good job," the Admiral agreed, patting my hand as I remained rigid beside her. "You taught them well. Those would have killed them if they didn't know where to look thanks to you."

I watched the television closely. The plane was flying high in the sky, tracking their body warmth from afar. I held my breath as they approached the concrete wall, with Ghost having silently killed four guards from where he was hidden in the treeline. "Uh, we got a B on the way," Lieutenant Larsen announced in the intercom. A bombing plane!

The team knew what to do, wordlessly finding the safest places to hunker down. "No!" I screamed when the footage died, before sighing in relief when their vitals returned to the screen. They were unharmed.

"We're missing surveillance," an officer announced, shouting into the intercom. "No response, Admiral."

"They took out the surveillance van," she muttered irritably.

Ghost confirmed–no signs of life. "Forgive me now for dumping you, Storm?" he murmured bitterly into the system, and I continued to cry. He'd saved my life by tattling on me. Four people were dead, and I would have been one of them. "No evidence we've been spotted. Move forward."

They took turns being in charge, led by the most qualified person in each scenario. As they breached the wall, my nerves finally got to me, and I stormed out of the room to release every bite of food I'd ever eaten into the nearest trash can. I'd been so close to death that I was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, fearful that those four were just the beginning–the rest of them were next.

"Angerboda," König called from the double doors, his gaze sympathetic. I'd finally run out of food, saliva, and bile to vomit, sinking onto the cold floor to recover. "They've got the target."

"W-what?" He helped me to my feet, holding the door open for me as I rushed back inside. Ghost was ordering reinforcements; it was time for the cleanup crew to assist. Sure enough, they'd captured the leader, guarding him while they waited for the evacuation team to arrive.

Larsen and Andersen helped the women and children within; a job the men were strictly not allowed to do due to cultural requirements. I listened as everyone did their part, feeling both König and my mother holding my hands while I watched the vitals. They were healthy–they were unharmed, apart from the occasional scrape or bruise. They'd pulled it off.

"Best damn mission no one will ever see," one of the officers declared. They'd broken out beer and champagne, drinking amongst themselves as they celebrated. "Kalberg, you want in on this?"

"No," I decided after a moment of tense thought. "They deserve it, not me."

"Angerboda," König murmured in protest. "They did exactly what you taught them. That's why this was a success! It wasn't your fault that the surveillance van..."

I peered up at his warm, kind gaze as I shook my head. "I want to be a teacher," I informed him, hearing my mother laugh beside me at the unexpected response. "Once we get settled, I want to get an education degree and teach teenagers."

"What does that have to do with this mission or drinking?" the Admiral exclaimed as she continued to laugh.

"I don't know. Just...came to mind. Do you all have any Aquavit?"