“You can see the compound from here. You can’t make out everything but you can see the foundation wall and the palisade running along the top. What do you think?” Brody asked.
Mercy squinted through the binoculars and processed what she saw, “Remind me how many men we’ve got here.”
“Fifteen, not including me and you,” Brody replied.
“Roughly the same as them over there, give or take, according to Nate. But that’s old intel. It might be a fair fight but they hold all the cards; the bridge and the island and those floating tropes.” Mercy paused. “You’re right, your men would be slaughtered if they rode across the bridge and the tropes rule out a sneak attack from under the bridge, so—”
The buck stops with me. Go on say it, it’s me. It’s always me—
“I’ll go over,” Mercy said. “I’ve got the biotech, I’ll swim across at night, if there’s any tropes in the water they’ll not be interested in me. I’ll evade the militia shore patrol, get to the compound… and gather intel. I’ll find out how many of them are over there and where they’re keeping Barnes and Dimitri. I’ll have the radio and keep you updated. You and your men stay up near the bridge and don’t move until I call you. You’re right, I might be able to pull off a diversion… draw some of their men away from the bridge… something. I’ll figure it out but I need to get over there first, check that compound and see their defences up close—”
If it was me in there Barnes would come and get me—
Brody nodded, “Everything you say makes sense, I can’t fault the logic, but you’ll be alone and you’re a woman… if they capture you… those bastards… it won’t be pretty.”
Mercy looked away, “I know Brody. I’ve lived with that shit every day since all this craziness happened. Women and men, men and women… it’s all changed. Civilization is only skin deep. Nothing will ever be the same again but I’ll be damned if I let men like those take over what’s left of the world. We need men like you, Barnes and Dimitri. Men prepared to take a stand and fight—”
“OK,” Brody said, nodding. “I get it, I don’t like it… but I get it. Their island is a fortress and they know it. The only way off and on is the bridge. The only thing going for us is your biotech… you can sneak in—”
“Not just that Brody, you’re right, the island is a fortress. They may feel safe, secure in their fortress… but that sometimes leads to complacency and complacency is a chink in their armour—”
That’s all I need… a little carelessness, a chink—
Brody’s men gave Mercy a waterproof bag to protect the radio and her silenced Glock 17. She took extra magazines for her pistol and three grenades. One of the men found an old lifebuoy on the lake shore. They left Mercy just after sunset. Mercy secured her M4 carbine to the lifebuoy and pushed it ahead of her in the water as she waded out into the moonlit lake.
They’ve gone now, everyone’s gone, I’m alone… it’s just me. Like the old days in New York. I should like this, this should be my element… but it feels different. Shit, pull your act together, you survived alone for nearly two years in the city… you can do this—
The water was cold, it took her breath away as it reached her chest.
Breathe, allow your heart to settle before you start swimming—
Her breaths came in small ragged gasps as her body adjusted to the cold shock of the water. She waited, her feet still on the bottom and a minute later her breathing steadied and her heart rate dropped.
OK, now—
Mercy eased herself out into deeper water. The lake bed shelved away steeply and her feet lost contact with the bottom. She struck out, heading towards the island in the distance.
Sound carries at night. Try not to splash—
Fifteen minutes later she reached the island without encountering any tropes. She hid in reeds and listened to the sounds of the night; water lapping on the rocks, wind rustling the long grass and a blue jay calling in the distance.
Wait a bit longer. Watch for any patrols—
Mercy checked her watch; 10:17 pm. The water was at her waist. She started shivering in the cool breeze.
Shit, I need to get moving—
Mercy untied her rifle then pushed slowly through the reeds and made it to solid ground. In the distance she saw the outline of the militia compound.
We’re good, we’re good. OK, move on out—
She crouched low and crept through the undergrowth towards the compound. She stopped thirty yards away beside a weeping willow and concealed herself in its drooping foliage.
That’s close enough for the moment. Watch and learn—
Ten minutes later a scuffing sound came from the compound. The foundation wall was constructed of stone and rose to waist height. The rest of the palisade was made from wood and sheets of corrugated iron. She tensed and focused on the top of the palisade.
Movement. The glow of a cigarette.
One guard—
A dog started to bark inside the compound, a second dog joined in.
Two dogs, maybe more—
The guard reached the end of the palisade and passed from view.
On his rounds, seems alone, time him—
Mercy timed the guard’s circuit of the compound twice.
Fifteen minutes for him to do a circuit, give or take—
She looked over her shoulder towards the lakeshore.
Where’s the shore patrol? No sign of them yet. There’s dogs inside the compound but no sign of any activity outside. Maybe they don’t feel the need. They feel secure, well, keep it that way, remember this is only supposed to be a recon mission—
Mercy watched the guard disappear from view for the third time.
Right, now… move in—
She stole forwards and made it to the compound wall. She listened then climbed up the stonework to the wooden corrugated iron section. She stepped up on a protruding
