“I’ve got one more coming out of the building,” Helena updated. “Maybe back from a bathroom break.”
“Anything else?”
Silence.
“Good,” I continued. “Hold your positions for thirty mikes and maintain visual contact, then report back to camp.”
I received a chaotic series of clicks in return, but it sounded like everyone got the message.
I was already at our camp, maybe five miles from the villa Agrippina had occupied inside the village. Wang had spotted her on a balcony earlier, so we knew exactly where she was staying.
We were near the beach behind a few high dunes in case the Romans came snooping. In preparation for the team’s arrival, I moved down to the shoreline and sketched an accurate representation of the town in the damp sand.
North of Tripolis, Syria, modern day Tripoli, Lebanon, the town was negligible in size, but the villa that sat in its center was formidable. The complex sat on a little more than an acre of land, but half of that space consisted of the interestingly designed villa. Some kind of amalgamation of Roman, Greek, Egyptian, and Mesopotamian architecture, it sported arches, columns, cupolas, minarets, and designs I was completely unaware of. It looked like a piece of junk in my opinion, but I was hardly an expert. At least it had enough entrances and hiding spaces to sneak in a ten man squad from random trajectories.
To my sketch, I added the four walls, towers at the corners and every guard lookout station we had identified. I added the dock, and made sure the size was as close to scale as I could manage.
I took a few steps back and admired my handiwork. It would do. I started adding some more detail to the dock area, probably the most accessible route into the complex, when I noticed the first arrival. I looked up to see Helena making her way towards the camp, unaware that I was on the beach. She looked in our tent to find it empty, so I called out to her before she grew concerned. She waved back and entered the tent for a few minutes, emerging without her gear and wearing shorts and a tank top, her feet bootless.
She walked down to the beach slowly and sat next to my diagram, burying her bare toes in the damp sand. She extended her hand to me. I looked at it for a second but she was insistent, so I let her pull me down to the sand next to her. I followed her lead and took off my boots.
The sand felt good between my toes, almost like a massage, and I suddenly felt as though I were elsewhere. Alone, on the beach, with our toes in the sand, the moonlight streaming down from out over the Mediterranean, I almost thought we were on vacation.
“Jacob, can we talk?”
I let my eyes close shut of their own accord, feeling the image slip away with her words. The last time she wanted to “talk” was during that first month in Rome when she told me she’d been a green rookie covering our backs in combat. That had been bad enough.
“If it’s about the mission, I really don’t want to hear it,” I told her matter of factly. “We have to do this. With luck…”
“It’s not about the mission,” she cut me off quietly, her voice devoid of anger or frustration. “Or timelines or Agrippina or anything like that.”
Her tone threw me. She’d been our most vocal advocate for taking down Agrippina since this whole mess started. She’d always had more reason to hate her than any of us. Even me. But just now she sounded as if she didn’t even care at all.
“Then what’s this about?”
“It’s… it’s about us.”
“Us?” I asked, curious. “You finally breaking up with me?”
“What? No. Of course not.” She shook her head distractedly. “I love you more than…”
“I love you too, Helena,” I interrupted. “I don’t think I say it enough, but I do. More than anything else.”
“I know you do, Jacob.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, but I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
“This have anything to do with what we talked about in Galba’s tent a few months ago?”
“In a way, yes,” she replied, still very distracted, “but also no.”
She picked up a handful of sand and I watched as it streamed between her fingers, the wet clumps making tiny mounds as they impacted the beach.
“Its okay, Helena. Just tell me.”
She choked a halfhearted laugh. “It’s really so simple…”
“Hey, lovebirds,” Santino called out from the dune, Wang, Gaius, and Marcus beside him, “leave room for the Holy Spirit down there.”
I sighed and waved frustratingly at him, but I shifted my attention back to Helena. I was on the edge of my seat over what she was going to tell me. All the tension between us aside, I wanted to know what was bothering her. Had to know. She was staring at the sand and looked sad, rather than annoyed. I simply could not guess what was bothering her. What could do this to her?
I reached across my body and gripped her cheek with the palm of my hand, rotating her face towards me. I waited until she met my eyes, her bright green ones confirming her sadness.
“Now’s not the time for jokes,” I said. “I’d really like to know what’s going on. Once we’re done with the briefing, we’re going to sit back down, right here, and we’re going to talk about it.”
She managed a small half-smile and leaned in to kiss me.
She pulled back and said, “I’ll be here.”
Fifteen minutes later, Helena and I were still waiting on the beach for our remaining teammates to make their way back. We sat there looking at the moonlight, her head on my shoulder, listening to the crashing waves and annoying banter from the peanut gallery back in the camp. I held her hand as we sat, my mind processing everything I could think of.
Everything besides the mission, of course.
But at least my mind wasn’t wandering on mission, for once. We weren’t planning to hit Agrippina until the following night, so I had time to think. But it was still frustrating. I couldn’t get Helena out of my head. This was a prime example of why the military frowned on combat operatives engaging in romantic ventures with one another. It was feared that one member of the pairing would becoming over protective of the other, usually the male towards the female, and in an act of desperation or overprotectiveness, do something that could threaten a mission. As chauvinistic as it may seem, it was basic social upbringing 101. Since our cavemen ancestors, it had always been the man’s job to protect the women, and the sense of duty subconsciously stuck.
But, it was hardly my fault Helena and I ended up this way. Maybe it was fate. Stupid fate. Or maybe it was simply dumb luck on my part. Either way, it was currently spelling my downfall and leading towards my distraction.
If tomorrow was going to be as important and dangerous as we all thought, we had to talk now. Not later.
Thankfully, despite opportunity, I didn’t have much time to focus on it because Vincent, Bordeaux and Madrina finally arrived. Santino, Wang, Titus, Gaius, and Marcus were already on the beach, likewise shoeless, and examining my craftsmanship. Five minutes later, ten bodies, all lacking footwear, stood around my two by one yard drawing of our target location. Santino, of course, felt the need to point out that his five year old equivalent could have done a better job, but after I threw a clump of wet sand in his face, everyone was laughing at him, not with him.
Once everyone settled down, I started the briefing.
“All right, everyone, let’s keep this short. We’ll go over the finer details tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.
“Based on UAV scans and ground based observation, our clearest point of insertion is the docks.” I used a small stick to circle the area of my sand painting I had designated as such. “A small team will amphibiously assault that spot, while the rest of us provide cover and sniper support from the north and south.”
I pointed at the shoreline I’d added to my diagram.
“Once inside the perimeter, our scout team will clear the guards within the courtyard while the rest of us make our way to reinforce them. From there, we’ll sneak through village and make our way into the villa. Once inside, we have three objectives; one primary and two secondary. Our primary one is to obtain Agrippina. Wang, as always, you’re on hostage detail.”