They were the landscape.
In the rear of the vehicle Leviticus continuously panned the micro-thermal imaging camera mounted on the roof, picking up Micah and Isaiah, and perhaps the occasional stray dog or nocturnal creature. So far the perimeter was clear. If the Force Elite was out there, they were a mist before the lenses. Without a doubt the attackers would be as much a part of the landscape as the shapes and shadows that harbored them.
Maintaining vigilant surveillance, Leviticus panned the camera to all points of the compass, feeling confident the Knights were alone as Kimball and Nehemiah became one with the shadows as they headed for the trees.
As Shari ascended the stairway of the mansion, she felt a sudden chill crawl along her backside like a centipede inching its way up her spine, the sudden coldness causing the fine hairs on the back of her neck to rise.
When she opened the door it did not whine or squeal on its hinges like a B-horror movie. In fact, it opened with the ease of a well-oiled machine. When she stood there looking up at the second-tier landing, she saw Murdock standing there looking down on her. He was a mere shape against the backlit of the bedroom light.
“I saw you drive up,” he said. “You were quicker than I thought.”
She took a step towards the stairway. “Did you find anything else?”
He shook his head. “’Fraid not. It looks like the globe may be it. I just hope it means something to you.”
She started to take the steps. “Let’s hope so.”
Omega Team watched silently from the shadows as they watched Shari park her vehicle and enter the mansion. With one eye on her, they kept a second eye on the van that was parked approximately 300 feet away from the governor’s gates.
“Candidate One,” whispered Viper. “Do you have a lock?”
“That’s affirmative. Target Red is in the castle,” confirmed Mamba. “It’s a go. Converge with senses open in the front and rear. She’s not alone.”
“Copy that,” said Cobra.
Omega Team moved with the furtiveness of serpents, scooting and crawling along the ground on their bellies in disciplined and patient fashion. They took to the dark shadows, often stopping and listening for anything alien or hostile. Once the terrain was judged clear, they moved on, constantly tightening the perimeter.
What had been a recon line providing a wide view of the mansion was now closing to a point as the members of Omega Team converged on the residence. The members drew close to one another as they moved in from three directions, their weapons drawn, then stopping and sweeping the area, and then advancing once more in total silence.
Once they were within thirty meters from the entry point, Omega Team hunkered down with the collective thought of a single mind — keep low and appraise the situation. Don’t move until the command is given. And look for shadows, because if the shadow isn’t one of your own, then it’ll probably kill you.
“We have Tangos,” said Leviticus.
“Where?” Kimball asked through his lip mike.
“Three Tangos approximately thirty meters apart converging to the entry point. Each Tango proximity is to the north, northeast and northwest sector.”
“Micah’s already in position. Isaiah, move in from the southwest sector and back him up. Nehemiah and I will come in from behind and flank them.”
“Copy that,” said Isaiah, already on the move to provide a skirmish line.
“If they’re thirty meters apart, then it’ll be man to man. Be careful that one Tango isn’t the bait while another lies in wait. Is that the case, Leviticus?”
“That’s negative, sir. Each man stands alone, obviously appraising the situation.”
“That means they’re expecting us, or at least somebody. We won’t disappoint.”
Kimball and Nehemiah picked up the pace, knives drawn, bodies folded at the waist to maintain a low profile. With the aid of night vision goggles, they moved quickly through the darkness.
“Status,” whispered Kimball on the trot.
“They’re maintaining position. The defense forces are in position and waiting for the cavalry.”
“Copy that. Do you see us in relationship to the Tangos?”
“Affirmative. You’re approximately fifty meters southwest of the targets.”
“Copy.”
Kimball and Nehemiah made an abrupt northeast turn and headed in the direction of Omega Team to out flank them. When they were within thirty meters, Kimball broke toward the middle target. Nehemiah stayed the course and crept toward the commando at the northwest position.
Omega Team waited.
“Candidate One and Two,” whispered Omega Team’s Mamba into his lip mike. “You have two hostiles moving in from the southeast. Each of you has been targeted and is drawing a one-on-one situation.”
“Copy that,” said Viper. “What’s their twenty?”
“Approximately twenty meters behind you and moving closer.”
“Copy that… I don’t have a visual yet.”
“They’re moving up on ten meters.”
“Roger that,” confirmed Viper.
“I’m closing the gap.” Mamba left his position and padded silently to intercept Kimball.
In the north sector, Nehemiah was advancing on Viper. The Omega Team commando was almost drooling with anticipation as he quietly attached a noise suppressor to his carbine.
Like drawing a fly to honey, he thought.
“We have movement,” said Leviticus. “Tango Three is moving toward the center position. Be careful, Kimball. You might have been made.”
“Copy that.” Kimball hunkered down behind a gnarled hedge and withdrew a second knife.
“One hostile has stayed,” Mamba said into his mike. “I’m moving into position. The second hostile is still on the move.”
“I see him,” whispered Viper. “It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
Kimball hunkered low. Something wasn’t right. And then he gazed toward the dark form of Nehemiah who was almost on top of his target, his knife drawn.
And then it occurred to him that Leviticus was right.
They’d been made.
Viper moved in a fluid motion with the barrel of the carbine coming around and targeting Nehemiah. In rapid succession, muted bursts of gunfire lit up the night like a strobe light as bullets stitched across the chest and abdomen of Nehemiah’s Kevlar, pocking and pitting the material as the bullets’ impact drove Nehemiah back, but not to the ground until Viper found the objective of Nehemiah’s legs. Once Nehemiah went down he was severely crippled as he lay there bleeding, the knife no longer within his grasp, his agony sweeping. In a motion that was fleeting and graceful, Viper withdrew his blade and moved in for the kill.
Kimball saw starbursts of light from Nehemiah’s position and knew a firefight was on. From his position he could see Nehemiah being driven back, then to the ground. And in a scene that seemed somewhat disjointed with the slowness of a bad dream, Kimball could do nothing as he watched the commando withdraw his knife, pounce upon Nehemiah without mercy, and drive the blade across his throat.
Kimball was beyond rage.
Mamba and Cobra met up with Kimball no more than ten meters away, each knowing their target was cognizant of their presence, and they to his. Once Viper wiped the bloodied blade against Nehemiah’s Kevlar, he began to converge on Kimball’s point.