Strike Force Five Part 6
Treasure Hunting
Three elongated shadows rippled along the irregular ground. The border spotlights further increased the blue-gray outlines stretching them out passed the tree line. As the three, more solid, forms responsible for the ghostly images drew up side by side Wufei, Heero and Duo squatted down reining in the lengthy gray tagalongs
Hidden by a narrow stand of sapling the trespassing trio stayed low within the mist-blanketed branches. Activity was light beyond their vantage point. It was certainly safe to assume that the concentrated action would be found nearer the compound's center but none of the encroachers were either brave or stupid enough to volunteer to find out. One fact was certain...the compound never shut down.
"Doesn't look like much security for a complex this size." Duo observed leaning closer to Wufei.
All the uninvited interlopers had been somewhat surprised by the lack of patrols, human or otherwise. Of course they hadn't discounted electronic sensors that could easily be concealed anywhere. Then there were the ever-popular Security Drones left over from the war. OZ never went as far as the next sector without the efficient killing machines.
Wufei tightened the night vision binocular's radius fine tuning his view. "Knowing our hosts," he stated lowly, "they think they are so invincible that they don't need much security. They believe they are untouchable." he declared changing the range level again. "Yes OZ thinks no one would dare go up against them."
Duo grinned. The light glinting off his pistol reflected in his violet eyes, "OZ is dead wrong this time." he proclaimed putting a hard emphasis on "dead".
Duo shifted his position straining to see around a tall crate that someone had rudely placed in his line of sight. "I am going on my treasure hunt now." he announced with just as deadly determination.
Heero craned his neck checking the surrounding area. "Can you get there from here?"
Duo raised up figuring the distance to be covered, "There seems to be plenty of things to hide behind. I will meet you at the helicopter in two hours and don't anyone be late." he issued the stern order. "And Wufei don't forget about our bet."
"See if you can complete your hunting without inviting the entire compound to dance." Wufei whispered, "Remember your Tracker Band." he reminded as Duo began to slink off.
"And the Drones." Heero added to his Chinese comrade's warning.
Duo gave Heero and Wufei the silent "thumbs-up" sign and vanished into the fog.
*********
Muffled voices floated on the fog as Trowa and Quatre knelt outside a spotlight's wide circle. Resting his shoulder on one of several portable storage units Trowa peered between the shiny metal containers. Now he could see the disembodied voice's owners.
"How many?" Quatre whispered settling his back against another unit.
Trowa dared to lean further into the pale mist. "Two." he replied before withdrawing back behind the container. Going against his own insistent instructions that everyone stay linked together, Trowa ran his thumb across his Tracker Band's switch lowering the communication channel's volume.
"Trowa?" Quatre questioned his partner's actions as Trowa made the same adjustment to Quatre's band.
Trowa figured as they crouched only a stone's throw from the pair of guards that all he and Quatre needed was one of his comrade's loud voices popping over the channel.
Even though the two OZ soldiers were not hired for their astute sense of reasoning, a phantom voice calling out in the night might just stir something in their dull brains. The mysterious sounds could possibly spur the lackey's limited intelligence and encourage their inquisitive nature prompting them to come looking for the source.
Once he and Quatre were clear and on their way to the rendezvous point Trowa told himself to remember to turn the channel up. But for now, he reckoned, the silent mode was the best way to go.
"What to we do now?" Quatre asked locking his azure eyes on his lover.
Trowa eased down bracing one knee in the sandy soil. Taking a moment he studied the men's uniforms. "They're wearing sentry uniforms so they won't stay in one place too long." he reasoned, "We wait."
One patrolman rested the snub-nosed barrel of an SR42 over his knee. The Sonic Rifle Model 42 had been banned since the Advanced Weapons Act deemed the model unsafe. It seemed that the rifle had a nasty habit of slipping into overload and blowing up, usually claiming a body part or two as its prize.
After a high percentage of dismemberments and deaths were reported the unpredictable firearms were taken off the distributor's lists and their manufacturing prohibited. Yet there were still plenty of the unlawful weapons available on the "black market" and it seemed that OZ had managed to acquire most of them.
The second sentry propped his rifle against a wall then lit a hollow rod filled with some foul smelling leaf or, most likely, a synthetically produced illegal substance. He drew in deeply and held his breath for a moment before letting bluish smoke drift from his nostrils. The hazy cloud mingled with the mist churning in the spotlight's illuminating shaft.
Trowa's thumb nervously traced over his pistol's grip. He was beginning to realize that he and Quatre had ventured closer than his comfort level allowed. But they were concealed for now and moving about to feel more at ease could very well get them shot.
The red spot on the slim cylinder's burning end glowed hot once more. A curse-laden comment followed the inhaling as the guard crudely articulated his displeasure with the length of his watch period. "If that damned Captain thinks I'm going to waste all night out here he can kiss my ass." he declared frowning at the smoldering rod.
"You'd better keep your voice down," his patrolling partner warned, "or you're going to get us in trouble."
The complaining guard mumbled something in reply lifting the rod to his lips. One last, long drag shortened the spent rod to almost nothing. With a flicking motion towards the storage containers the finished product was tossed away. The rod hit the ground spraying out fragmented bits of its contents. The remaining embers landed so near to Trowa that tiny sparks bounced off his boot.
"Yeah a little too close for comfort." Trowa repeated under his breath.
A final curt comment concerning the irate sentry's opinion of the Captain's questionable breeding was expressed with noticeably slurred speech. The apparently stoned soldier muttered to himself as he picked up his rifle and trailed his watch partner passed the pool of light. The voices faded.
*********
Wufei and Heero crept along. Each step was carefully calculated, every stride designed to minimize their exposure on route from the forest fringe's relative security to the enemy's playground. Luckily dim areas between the light poles created blind spots making it easy to dodge detection until they reached the Communications Center's rear wall. Unluckily the wall was void of windows. Wufei and Heero couldn't simply have a quick look and blend back into the woods. No, like everything else on their transitory trek the spying was going to have to be done the hard way.
Drawing his pistol Wufei checked around the corner. A constant hum touched his ears. Various pitches of voices mixed with a number of mechanical thuds and clangs. A sharp ping repeated over and over in a measured rhythm. Five men unloaded plexi-plate cartons from a truck. The flare from a micro-torch sprayed white-hot starbursts creating wavy images on the buildings across the narrow "street".
To Wufei's left a square pool of light copying a side window's contours flooded on the ground. Shapes moving about inside continually disrupted the yellow glow.
Heero pulled an arrow from his belt quiver laying it flush with the guide etched in the crossbow's shaft. Pushing the arrow's notched end into the bowstring he slid his thumb over the trigger set. A soft snap confirmed that the arrow was locked in place. Keeping close to the ground Heero took the point moving forward into a cover stance. He centered his weight, pressed the crossbow to his shoulder and nodded the "go-ahead" to Wufei.
Staying low Wufei inched between the lighted pool and the windowsill. Casting a glance back at Heero the Chinese insurrectionist raised up slowly. Four men and two women sat before consoles ablaze with flickering lights and adorned with numerous switches and readout screens. A fourth man worked at another station on the opposite side.
Wufei ducked as an inside door opened. When he peered over the sill again a Security Officer had joined the techs. Judging from the insignia on his black uniform Wufei determined that the Officer's rank was advanced. From the man's body language and serious expression Wufei perceived urgency in the orders the Officer barked out at the harried operators.
"They are in the middle of putting something on line." Wufei made an educated guess as he knelt beside Heero. "The equipment is buzzing and a Security Officer is about to burst a gut."
"Could you hear anything?" Heero asked keeping his eyes glued on the corner.
Wufei shook his head "no". Checking his watch a frown pulled at his eyebrows, "We have enough time to scout out the surrounding buildings before meeting the others. When we leave I want to do a flyover and see if we can get a better look at that tower."
Two shadowy silhouettes darted back the way they had come. A pistol and crossbow aimed ahead to greet any personnel that might cross their path. Gradually the shapes bended back into the fog and left no trace of their presence behind.
*********
Duo made a series of quick dashes, a transversal trek that covered only a few yards at a time. This "eating away" of the compound's acreage bit by bit could work on the nerves of a less patient man. But taking on larger chunks of OZ real estate was not feasible as Duo fought his way through the ever-thickening fog. The further inside the compound's territory Duo dared to invade the more compact the white vapors became and the more obstacles planted themselves squarely in his path.
Duo wasn't sure how far he had traveled or how long it would be before he might stumble, and he used the term literally, onto anything remotely fulfilling his explosive requirements. As the opaque fog filtered in behind and all but obliterated his escape route, Duo found it took all his concentrative powers to maintain his sense of direction.
"Getting in," he told himself, "was easy." Finding his way out especially if his hurried retreat was dispatched by gunshots could prove to be the greatest challenge to his navigational skills.
There was one other compelling reason for Duo's successful exit and return to the helicopter. After his stern orders, his insistence that all parties reassemble at the appointed time and place, any tardiness on his part would most certainly be met with such taunting reproach that not returning at all might prove to be the least painful of choices.
Duo strained his eyes but the effort had only a marginal affect on the clammy blanket of mist. Instead of clearly defining the vague shapes just beyond Duo's position, his narrowed vision only lent a wavy view through the soupy moisture.
With a hard sigh, one borne of waning physical stamina and the pressing urgency of time's rapid depletion, Duo ran a hand over his face trying to make his mind stop racing from one splintered thought to another. All his mental powers and instincts had to converge into one central perception. His time for hunting was running out and he would be damned if he would return empty handed.
Closing his eyes Duo surrendered his senses allowing his consciousness to find its own path. Slowly a pattern began to assemble, scattered images pulled together. A picture formed, bits and pieces arranging themselves from nowhere. Duo felt himself moving but his sense of motion did not come by contact with the ground beneath his boots but was accomplished by gliding above the damp soil.
Then as quickly as the movement began it ended leaving behind a strange, almost euphoric, sensation. When Duo opened his eyes a gray shape had mysteriously materialized a short distance ahead. A single light bulb above the structure's main door blurred in hazy contours, its light fractured by the fog.
Staying low Duo eased up ever mindful that the entrance could be protected by guards. He hoped that the dampness would interfere with any sensors clouding the electric "eye". A quick check of the immediate area revealed nothing. Recalling Wufei commentary on how OZ believed itself to be invincible and therefore was lax in its security, Duo flipped his braid over his shoulder and started forward again.
A sly grin curled up Duo's lips. His eyes grew wide as they read a sign posted on the eight foot, mesh wire fence that encircled the building.
WARNING!----EXPLOSIVES!----NO FLAMMABLE MATERIAL OR SPARKING DEVICES BEYOND THIS POINT!
"Hot damn!" Duo almost shouted aloud as his depressed mental state suddenly improved. "Chang Wufei you owe me a beer."
Duo knelt by the fence pausing to ponder the percentage of OZ hirelings who could actually read and understand the warning sign. Knowing that the majority of troopers were drafted for their brawn not their brains his supposition concerning their illiteracy ratio caused a moment's amusement. The grin broke into a full smile as Duo envisioned a single uneducated soldier leveling the compound with one carelessly discarded smoking rod.
Some ten yards from his pondering point a gate as tall as the fence was locked up tight. Duo extracted his knife from its sheath and carefully touched the blade to the woven wire. The absence of sparks or a jolting kickback showed that no voltage ran along the metal enclosure. Returning the knife to its place on his thigh, Duo pulled a lock pick from his pocket. One twist to the right, then a counterclockwise action and the latch gave way with a snap.
A second survey before Duo gave the disengaged barrier a push. The infrequently used hinges caught then broke free with a shrill squeak, the raw scraping setting Duo's teeth on edge. After squeezing through he set the gate back in line using the matched placement to cover the entrance violation.
Satisfied that he would not be discovered Duo pressed his body into the recessed doorframe taking an encode-scrambler from his backpack. In seconds the scrambler had sufficiently confused the locking codes that secured the door. The false signals interrupted the circuit feed and the doorknob turned in his hand.
His pistol held against his chest, Duo inched the door open with the toe of the boot holding his breath in anticipation of an activated alarm. When none sounded he slipped inside shutting the door after him.
Once more Duo had to restrain himself from shouting out loud. There before him in perfect order were crates and cartons protectively holding the objects of his quest. And to add bliss to his delight a few boxes were stamped with a C5 rating telling him that the contents were particularly volatile.
Duo knew that what he could carry out would be limited. He briefly considered contacting Wufei and Heero for more manpower but he didn't want to take the chance that the transmission might be intercepted and traced. The best alternative was the careful selection of the items that could do the most damage. Besides if too many "things" turned up missing even the most simple-minded employee might take notice. No, better to "appropriate" what could deliver a potent punch and leave the rest to cover the larceny.
" OZ get ready for a taste of hell." Duo proclaimed as he loaded his backpack.
TBC...
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