Thanks all. Since you all added to my collective thoughts I'll post more that Mickey's preferred 250 or less intro. Then next flashback or the next scene will use part two suggestions... Thank you all. It's only a rough first draft, but you get the idea and no it's not a Heinleinian masterpiece of brain blowing cool!! Probably blew the main character's sex out of the water with the last line.
“Status on my mark.” I whispered their code names from Alpha to Eppy like an elementary teacher with little emotion. They each replied a whispered, “Set.” I couldn’t see them, but I knew where they were and I felt them. Alpha and Beta stretched out on the dirt and sand on the far cliff wall to my back; their hands relaxed and ready on their sniper long-range rifles, targets in their scopes. Gamma and Delta crouched in rock shadows over my head on the cliff on this side of the desert mountain valley, rappelling ropes and harnesses in place, the metal hooks secured to keep noise at a minimum; their long pig stickers sheathed within easy reach once their way was clear. Across the way from me at the base of the same cliff, Gamma and Delta waited as did Eppy and I on this side.
I had my own pig sticker out and clasped in my left hand, a pistol in my right. How many times had we been poised just like this? How many more before we finally headed home for good? “Alpha, Beta.” I let everyone take another moment to get their heads in the right place, “Go.”
The guards on the cliff above me fell in unison to the ground dead from clean hits I hoped. Alpha and Beta’ would be packing up their rifles for the stealth climb back to the valley floor. Over the gentle sage filled breeze, the call of a disturbed bird, the scurry of an animal in the dried grasses, I heard the slice of knives pulled across the guards’ throats in the microphone and waited. Even with their throats slit, the enemies in these mountains occasionally rose to battle again. Then Gamma said, “Zeta, we’re clear.”
“Copy.” I said. The sole enemy guard stood outside the cave on the narrow edge and lit a cigarette, unaware of the death above his head and sealed his fate and those within. I said with my voice a study in pretended indifference—my team knew that. It was part of the routine by now. “On your mark Gamma.” Gamma would speak for himself and for Delta. Again, I heard them moving in the grass, sand, and rock as they set up their rappelling gear, the quiet pounding of climbing pegs along the top of the cliff, ropes unwound and readied for the descent. Against the moon, I saw their bodies lean out from the drop off, ropes holding them firm.
I’d left Gamma and Delta to decide how best to dispatch the remaining guard at the cave entrance. They were quite capable, but the collective breathing tensed and increased over the microphone—a bit heavy. The others had gambled on the method. I’d pretended not to notice and knew it for the stress reliever it was. Gamma and Delta’s pig stickers glinted in the moonlight, but it was the play of the thin metal strand catching a silver glimmer that broke their anticipation. A disappointed Vance (Alpha) said over the microphone, “Shit.”
I repeated the word and let my disapproval of the bet bark out in the whisper. There had to be a way to darken those metals. In a different situation, the glint off weapons would pinpoint my team to an enemy’s rifle fire. Next time, I’d grease smear the metal down myself—no matter how the team grumbled cleaning up afterward.
I heard the sigh, saw the nod from Delta to Gamma, and then Gamma’s whispered, “Go.” They dropped from the edge of the cliff soundless and lethal. I imagined Delta as he would have flipped a small rock or something, the guard distracted would toss out his cig, turn to the sound with gun ready, but unaware of Gamma above him perpendicular to the cliff, feet firmly planted, ropes holding him securely as his arms snaked out and wrapped the garrote about the man’s neck. I imagined because Eppy and I were sprinting up the two sloping paths to the cave above to join them. The guard’s body teetered and swung as he struggled for a full minute,then ceased moving. I grabbed it and then dragged it back from a noisy drop to the valley floor while Gamma and Delta shed their ropes.
I pulled out the gas canister with Gamma and Eppy poised for action on the far side, Delta and me on this side—all of us in gas masks. A nod this time—no chance for those inside to hear a whispered, “Go.” Then I popped the can and rolled it into the cave entrance and prayed the cave didn’t open up to such a gigantic room that the gas didn’t hit all the enemy inside. Hand to hand was a bitch in dark wide-open unknown spaces. The sharp bitter smell drifted out, screams, and bodies scrambled. How many?
I leaned tight against the rock as Delta with a grin passed me and joined Gamma and Eppy to breach the cave, while I mentally bitched out their protective asses. It was my concession to their wishes, when they all knew I could take out as many inside as they did.
The gas was thick, the sounds of life turned to gurgles of death. I put away my pig sticker and then shifted my pistol to my left hand and picked up a lit torch with my right, holding it high overhead. Eppy saw the small-terrified four-year-old boy first, huddled in the corner too tired or maybe too drugged out to keep him from screaming, and approached him. The kid's eyes swept the giant who reached for him, pulled him up, locked him to his chest, and then Eppy’s slipped his pig sticker slipped back into its sheath. The gurgling sounds had faded, but dead as they may look there was no way I going to let these things get back out to kidnap or worse again—not on my watch.
Eppy carried the kid down to the valley floor while I dragged the guard outside back into the cave and set the C4 charges. Gamma and Delta returned to the top of the cliff and then lowered the two dead guards, where I again dragged the bodies inside. Then I stepped out on the narrow ledge and started down, asking, “Status?”
Eppy was first, “Good.” Then Delta and Gamma, “We’ve got our gear and are on our way down the long route. You're good to go, Captain.” No need to wait for Alpha and Beta, but I was a stickler. When they didn’t reply—on purpose probably, now that the excitement was over, I said their names.
Vance’s Irish brogue rang out like the start of one of his ballads, “Oh, yeah. We’re gooood Captain.” Followed by Beta’s deep baritone, “Aye, aye Capt’n.” Halfway down and out of the blast range, I pressed the switch of the remote radio control. The mountain blew out, lighting up the night sky. It was the best pyrotechnic show I’d staged so far. There must have been some gases built up somewhere underneath the cave because it lit up in pinks, reds, oranges, but it also had that unique green tint and that disgusting tart, nose crinkling grease fire smell of demon ass burned to a crisp.
Vance’s humming stopped at the explosion and then he sucked in his breath over the microphone to say, “Lucyyy burned dinner again?”
