Piranha

Not screwing up. Just not acting aggressively.

Da

Stoner sat in the back of the helo. He had suggested bringing the girl with them, but Da

Another conservative choice. Late.

“Squad One is down,” said Powder, who had the northeastern approach.

“Two is down,” said Liu, heading the southeastern team. As always, the Marine helos had made their deliveries precisely on time.

As the remaining teams reached the stream, Da

“No boats,” said Stoner as they circled off the coast of the island.

“Yeah,” said Da

“We’re ready,” said Powder, a good ten minutes ahead of schedule.

“Hold your position,” Da

“Got it, Cap.”

Da

“Squad Two ready,” said Liu.

Da

“Hawk Leader, we’re ready for your run.”

“Copy that,” Fentress sounded a lot like Zen over the radio, though the two men could not have been more different. Fentress was rail-thin, and looked like he’d fall over in a breeze. Zen looked like a ru

“Feeding you video,” said Fentress.

The island came into sharp focus as the Flighthawk approached, the optical feed was at maximum magnification, making objects ten times larger than in real life. The U/MF was at five thousand feet for its first run, still relatively high.

Nothing from the village—no small-arms fire, no shoulder-launched SAMs. Good.

“Teams, move forward,” said Da

He told the helo pilot to move forward also. A slight twinge of adrenaline hit his stomach; he leaned against his restraints as the chopper pushed toward its own Alpha Point near the coastline.

The IR feed on the Flighthawk’s next run painted the village as a green sepia Currier & Ives scene, assuming structure that might not have sides, a fenced area, probably for animals. He saw something that looked like a goat, but no people yet.

No people? Shit.

“ready,” reported Liu.

“You guys are cheatin’,” said Powder. “They must’ve gotten a head start.”

“Powder,” said Da

“We’re ready,” said the sergeant. So were the other teams.

“Hawk Leader. I need that low-and-slow run, give me your best shot,” said Da

“Machine gun,” said Bison.

“Everybody gold. Hold!”

Da

“You sure, Bison?”

“I got something moving, Cap,” said Powder.

“What’s going on?” said Stoner.

Da

“Everyone hold on,” Da

“Hawk Leader,” acknowledged Fentress.

The Flighthawk dropped to a hundred feet over the island, literally at treetop level. Though it was moving slow for an aircraft—just under 150 knots—the feed nonetheless blew by in a blur. Da

Three figures in one hut, one figure in another. Four, maybe five in the pen.