would have more of a chance, but with the possibility of twenty or more, our force would be eliminated pretty quickly if we were found out. Not only are there the walls, although they are not manned, but there is the building itself. It is fortified as well and would be difficult to get into with a force. Explosives to create an entrance in either the wall or building would possibly put the others inside in a worse situation.
“So it’s a no-go,” Gonzalez says putting her arm around McCafferty.
“No, I didn’t say that. Greg and I think we can jump in,” I say. The silence in the aircraft is complete.
“Is there anyone else here who is HALO trained?” I ask moments later breaking the silence. The quiet continues with a few shaking of heads.
“Alrighty then, I guess it’s just Greg and I,” I say. “We’ll rest up tonight and…” The rest of my sentence is interrupted by the first of the night runner shrieks outside followed by a ringing thump as one throws itself into the 130. More shrieks follow.
“I guess our night runner guests have arrived,” Horace says.
“I sure miss conversations that don’t have the word ‘night runner’ in them,” I say.
“Okay, well, we’ll rest up as best we can and then head over to Kirtland tomorrow to try to find some gear. Hopefully there will be some around that’s legit,” I add as more solid thumps sound inside. I sure don’t miss being inside an aircraft night after night with that noise ringing throughout the evening. I wonder just how much of that the 130 can actually take.
“What do you want us to do?” Horace asks.
“Well, I figure we’ll spend most of tomorrow…” Bang. “looking for equipment. Then set up…” Bang. “for the drop. If there’s enough time and we can…” Bang. “get some rest. Greg and I will drop…” Bang. ”Fuck that’s annoying. Greg and I will drop that night. Robert and Craig will fly us,” Bang. “Goddammit! Shut the fuck up. Horace, take the rest of the teams down the following morning. Head down to the same place by the creek and wait for our radio call. If we don’t call by noon, come back here and head home,” I finish amongst continued slams and shrieks outside.
“We’ll be there, sir,” Horace responds.
“How are you going to get out?” Robert asks.
“Hopefully via the front or rear gate,” I answer. “We’ll have to commandeer vehicles depending on how many are inside.”
“And if you can’t get to anyone and have to leave?” He asks.
“I’m assuming the gates can be opened from the inside. If we can’t get inside or if we find we can’t help them, then we’ll use the gate but be a little sneakier. We’ll have to wait until daybreak though so that will be riskier. I can’t even imagine how many night runners are out around a town of that size,” I answer. Robert nods but I can tell he isn’t very happy with the response.
I have my back to the ramp and the others are standing in a semi-circle in the back of the cargo compartment facing me and the ramp listening to the plan. Okay, it’s an idea but I’m thinking of it more as a plan at this point. Greg leans over and whispers in my ear, “Jack, can we talk about this privately?” I nod and we head to the cockpit after letting the others know we’ll be right back.
Bri listens to the conversation with Robert standing at her side. An icy feeling of fear strikes her gut as she listens to the plan which includes her dad parachuting into a hostile compound at night.
“He can’t be serious, can he?” She asks leaning over and talking quietly to Robert.
“I think he is,” Robert answers.
“I don’t like it. I mean, dad parachuting in at night? And then the two of them facing all of those people by themselves?” Bri says.
“I don’t either, Bri. But you know dad. Once he gets an idea…” Robert says letting his sentence trail off.
“Can he do it? I mean, has he ever parachuted? And at night?” Bri whispers.
“I don’t know. I know some of dad’s stories but I’m beginning to think there’s a lot more to them,” Robert replies. “But I’m not overly fond of him doing this.”
She feels her balance shift from the tempered steel inside to a feeling of fear which turns into an anger boiling in her gut. That fear is redirected at the night runners. She realizes it is people her dad is going after but she blames the night runners and feels they are indirectly responsible. If it weren’t for the night runners, then they wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. The crowd of soldiers and the others they picked up the other day are intent on their own conversation. She backs slowly away.
Bri’s thoughts migrate back to her sister. A terrible longing envelopes her; she misses Nic so much. Nic was always a source of comfort and inspiration to her. She misses the smile Nic always had for her; misses Nic’s enthusiasm for everything she did. She feels like a piece of her was ripped out when Nic died. The night runners took Nic away just as they almost took her dad. They also changed her dad; both physically and emotionally. She doesn’t recognize this part of her dad. He used to be playful and funny and she misses that. She misses the laughter they shared.
Now he seems tired and too business like. She sees glimpses of the old dad from time to time and relishes those moments but now, with him contemplating doing something so dangerous without her really understanding why he has to, a deep fear of losing him surfaces. The slams against the aircraft and howls from the night runners continue, igniting a deeper hatred for them. She is tired so emotions bubble to the surface easier.
She watches as Greg and her dad head into the cockpit for some reason. The others mill about in the back of the aircraft. A slam pounds against the fuselage nearby startling her. Bri feels a knot form in her stomach and her teeth clench in frustration and anger. She’s tired of this and just wants things to go back to the way they were. The frustration of knowing it will never be that way again adds to already pent up feelings. She looks behind her noticing the ladder in place leading to the overhead hatch. Looking back at the group, no one is paying any attention to her.
The emotion she had on the firing range returns with one notable exception — there is cold calculation involved. The feeling of wanting to see every night runner dead resurfaces. A part of her feels numb but she remembers Gonzalez’ words to her that day. She battles her emotions and feels a fear filling her knowing what she is about to do. She’s tired of reacting and wants to act. Determination sets in.
Donning a set of NVG’s and with her ever-present M-4 shouldered, she begins to climb the ladder fearful of being caught and even more fearful of what waits outside. She knows from watching the night runners that they can’t scale the aircraft so the top should be safe enough. Bri doesn’t feel she is putting the others at risk by opening the top hatch but she will close it when she is outside.
There isn’t any cry of alarm or shout of discovery as she reaches for the hatch opening. She opens it and the shrieks outside increase only slightly. The night runners are below so the increase doesn’t reach the opening. She climbs out onto the top of the aircraft and gently closes the hatch. Lowering her NVG’s, she looks across the area. The wings stretch flat away from her with the four engines and huge props attached. The large tail rears into the night and she looks forward to where the flat surface of the top arcs down to the cockpit where her dad and Greg stand.
Bright stars twinkle overhead against the black velvet sky but are unseen in the green glow of her goggles. The chill of the night envelopes her and sends a shiver down her spine. The chill is even more noticeable because of the heat that was prevalent during the day. Mindful of not stepping on anything and following the pathways marked safe for walking, she edges to where the wing merges with the fuselage. On top, the screams of the night runners are more succinct and louder. She may not be able to kill all of the night runners but she can take care of these around the aircraft.
She becomes suddenly mindful of what she is doing and where she is at. She is outside with the night runners. Bri turns to head back fearful of what she is doing. Killing the night runners here will not change what her dad is planning nor make it any safer for any of them. She’s here though and the knot in her stomach is just as tight as it ever was. She halts her retreat and goes to a knee near the leading edge of the wing but on the flat of the fuselage. The curvature of the top is not so bad that she feels fearful of slipping off. Bri unshoulders her M-4, ensures a round is chambered, flips the selector switch to semi, turns her night laser and sight on, and brings her carbine to her shoulder.
The night runners below halt their runs against the aircraft and look up at her. They’ve smelled me, she thinks centering her small cross hair on the head of a night runner. The laser, as seen through her NVG’s, paints a dot near where her sight is set. Aim small, miss small, Lynn’s words echo in her head. Bri centers her sight right
