The Sergeant nodded and then spread his arms, looking around expectantly. “Anybody else got questions?” he asked.
There was a moment of silence, and a few replies in the negative came from some of the men.
“Good,” Copeland declared, and rolled a hand over his head. “Get loaded up, we’re in the air in five.”
CHAPTER TWO
Kowalski, Wade, and six other snipers packed tightly into a small aircraft. There was barely room to move between the men and the gear, all squeezed in like a sardine can.
Kowalski looked out over the darkness, catching the occasional glimpse of a building in the rural areas as the moonlight caught windows.
“Hey man, when was the last time you made a jump?” Wade asked, nudging his arm.
Kowalski tilted his head back and forth, unable to move enough to shrug. “I don’t know, a year, maybe a year and a half,” he said. “What about you?”
“About a week before all this began,” Wade replied.
Kowalski blinked at him. “A week?” he asked. “Where the hell were you?”
“This little vacation spot in Colorado,” his companion replied.
Kowalski raised an eyebrow at the tattooed sniper in disbelief. “You… you jump for fun?”
“Hell yeah I do!” Wade replied, excitement in his eyes. “Try to do fifteen to twenty jumps a year if I can. It’s more of a rush than being in a mosh pit.”
His companion shook his head. “Dude, this is going to be the first time I’ve jumped out of a plane without being paid to do so,” he admitted. “At least I’m assuming we’re not getting paid anymore.”
“You’re missing out, man,” Wade said. “When we survive this, I’m gonna talk to the higher-ups about setting up a jump school.”
Kowalski rolled his eyes. “Uh huh, okay, well, if you need somebody to help teach those people how to shoot once they land, give me a shout.”
Wade grinned and snaked a hand up to give him a thumbs up. Kowalski simply shook his head and leaned back, tapping the pilot on the shoulder.
“How far out are we from the jump?” he asked.
The pilot flicked on a small book light and checked his map and then looked over his instruments. “We’ll be over the zone in two minutes,” he replied.
Kowalski patted his shoulder at an awkward angle and then pulled his arm back down to his side. “Okay, listen up,” he declared, getting everyone’s attention. “We’re two minutes out. It’s gonna be a low drop, so don’t wait too long on pulling your chute. You all know the landing zone. We rendezvous at the small house on the east side of the field. Questions?” When nobody said anything, he nodded firmly. “Then let’s get ready.”
He shuffled over to the door, and waited by it, checking his equipment one last time as the throttle to the engine dialed back to reduce the speed. When the pilot held up his hand, giving the sniper a thumbs up, Kowalski threw open the door and began ushering his men out of the plane.
Right after Wade jumped, Kowalski waved to the pilot and then leapt out into the air himself. The wind rushed by his face as he hurtled towards the ground. His heart raced, blood pumping as fear and adrenaline coursed through him. Kowalski was not a fan of flying through the air.
When he finally pulled the ripcord on his chute, it opened without a hitch, and he finally allowed his body to relax a little. He looked around at the rest of his squad, gracefully floating to the ground. He looked down, checking the field within sight, only a minute or so away. From his vantage point he could also look over the interstate, the bridge, and their target shopping center.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed, heart rate tripling at the amount of movement on the road and parking lot outside of the shopping center. “Guess that wasn’t just dark pavement,” he muttered, and then braced himself for his landing.
He hit the ground hard, stumbling forward and falling onto his hands and knees. Wade approached, chuckling, and helped him back up as he unclipped his chute.
“Need to work on that landing there, bud,” Wade teased.
Kowalski grumbled. “Or, I could just not jump anymore,” he replied.
Wade continued to chuckle as they headed off towards the rally point a few hundred yards away. “You catch the movement on the road?” he finally asked, sobering.
“Yep,” Kowalski replied, voice level. “Gonna be a bitch to get around that.”
His companion clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, good thing they sent the best of the best.”
“Or the best that they could find,” Kowalski shot back with a smirk.
Wade rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the morale boost there, bud.”
“Anytime,” Kowalski replied brightly.
They reached the farmhouse, a tiny rundown shack with a beat-up pickup truck in front of it. Privates Martin and Doyle came around from the other side, walking casually.
“Perimeter is clear,” Doyle reported as they approached.
Martin shook his head. “Can’t say the same about the road.”
“No shit,” Wade agreed, “I’ve seen major festivals that were less crowded.”
“Where are the other four at?” Kowalski asked.
Doyle jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We sent them up ahead to scout the shopping center on this side of the interstate and the road.”
“All right,” Kowalski replied, “let’s go catch up with them and see what we’re dealing with.”
The quartet hiked across the field, nothing but empty, overgrown grass ahead of them. They were silent as they walked, the daunting task ahead weighing heavy on their shoulders. As they reached the end of the field, the four other snipers crouched near a giant tree, one of them scouting out the shopping center through his scope.
“What do we got?” Kowalski asked.
The sniper lowered his weapon and shook his head, face pale in the moonlight. “Nothing good.”
Kowalski and Wade both took a knee, pulling out their rifles to survey the situation. About two hundred yards from
