It was a surprising cold night in Cairo. It had occurred to Sydney Bristow long ago that temperatures drop rapidly at night in the deserts, but she never actually realized it. Tonight was a rude awakening – she hadn't packed warmly.
The compound they were stalking was relatively quiet; a guard or two making some shuffling noises, but nothing much more than a light whisper. Dixon had the NVGs for the moment, while Bristow was left watching anything close-range. Patrols came every twenty minutes, and the last one supposed to be walking through the empty barracks was fifteen minutes late. When the enemy's rhythm was off when it wasn't supposed to be, Sydney became suspicious, and had half a mind to barricade the only door in and out of the window office they were holed up in. The officer who occupied it – a Major Shamal – was lying on the floor, unconscious, thanks to one of Marshall's toys.
"Anything?"
Dixon shook his head, pulling the night vision goggles from his face. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Scouts are almost a shift late and they don't even blink. This smell just as bad to you as it does me?"
Bristow nodded. "Let's go in for a closer look."
Dixon pulled out his Glock from his holster and pulled the blinds shut. "After you, madame."
*****
The first patrol was an easy kill. Three men, each carrying an AK-47, walking in a triangular formation. He took the back two with knives and shot the lead with his Heckler and Koch USP .45, the silenced bullet making no sound, with the exception of it striking through the soldier's skull.
He let the light wind blow sand over their bodies, and continued on toward the compound.
*****
The entrance to the building was a simple keypad lock, with two guards on either side of the door manning it, both wielding Uzis. Sydney gassed them with a tranquilizer perfume bottle – Marshall. She loved the geek – he could come up with the most evil of gizmos, but didn't have a mean bone in his body.
The keypad was even less of a chore – Dixon pulled the panel out and crossed a pair of wires. The door opened wide and they trotted in, both clad completely in black. They stood out like sore thumbs in the lit warehouse, but using crates and forklifts as cover allowed them to avoid having to deal with that disadvantage. Out of sight, out of mind.
There was no counter-mission tonight; Vaughn had said that they had no play here. They couldn't exactly steal the prisoner without SD-6 knowing something was wrong, and there was no need to take that sort of chance. So Sydney was working completely with SD-6 this time, and she felt like breaking someone's arm for it. Unfortunately, Dixon wasn't exactly someone that could be her human punching bag. She decided to just wait for some uppity guard and see what happened.
Needless to say, Sydney was pissed off.
*****
The prison sector of the compound was poorly fortified – apparently they thought the main door was secure enough. The Egyptian armed forces apparently hadn't met him, before. It didn't matter – he didn't care. The four gun-toting soldiers sitting around a poker table had no chance. By the time they knew that he was shooting, the four silenced bullets had taken them all in the vital areas – forehead, throat, throat, and forehead again.
Grabbing the keys from one of the soldiers, he looked down the row of cells – five on either side, and one at the end. He sprinted down to the final cell, unlocking it with the key and swinging the cell open.
McKenas Cole looked up from his bed, toward the man shrouded in white. "Well, how 'bout that. Luke Skywalker came here to rescue me."
"Snowman."
Cole narrowed his eyes at the mention of the name. "You've got to be—"
The final pair of shots silenced any final words he might have said.
