The command central in one of the compound's outbuildings was already buzzing when the two specialists arrived. Tino didn't even seem to notice, marching right up to the table in the center of the room.
"Sir, I think something's gone wrong with Sergeant Oxenstierna's convoy," he said without ceremony.
"You're damn right it has," replied the man on the other side of the table, turning to him. Tino and Lukas came to immediate attention at the glower on Sergeant Kirkland's face.
"Some goddamn lucky insurgent bastard shot down the air support," continued the sergeant, his eyes like coals, "and the ground crew stopped returning contact shortly after they got on the water."
"If this is a training exercise, it's a fucking shit one," growled Corporal Vargas, hunched over the radio equipment.
"Language!" snapped Sergeant Kirkland without irony.
"I think they've been captured, sir. I got this message." Tino thrust his phone at the sergeant, not even pausing to think how it might be a good thing his superior officer didn't speak Swedish. Sergeant Kirkland listened to the message, then handed the phone back to Tino.
"Corporal Braginski, get a reconnaissance team out there immediately." The massive corporal went out of the building. "We'll have to set up an extraction team in case this is as serious as it sounds."
"I have to go," said Tino, one hand flying up while the other unconsciously patted the scope in his pocket.
"What?" said the sergeant, startled.
"I have to go," said Tino, his voice starting to drop into the strange monotone. Lukas put a steadying hand on his shoulder. Tino put his hand down.
"I would like to be part of the extraction team, sir," said Tino, in his regular voice. The sergeant considered, his glower softening somewhat.
"You're a sniper, right?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, Specialist, you can go."
"I would like to go too, sir," said Lukas quietly, surprising everyone.
"Yeah? Remind me what you do, Specialist." The sergeant looked less than thrilled at the progression of the conversation.
"I speak Arabic."
"Uh huh."
"And I diffuse bombs."
"Okay, you can go."
The reconaissance radioed back with the news which at least Tino had been expecting: some kind of insurgent group had gained control of the convoy's various boats and was holding the soldiers in one of them, still out on the water. According to the somewhat garbled responses to their attempts at radio contact, everyone was still alive.
"We have to get them out of there, sir," Tino said urgently to Corporal Bielschmidt. So far no one had made a move to leave base camp yet.
"We do indeed," replied the red-eyed corporal, the leader of the extraction team. "But we have to be sure we're going to be safe before we just go charging in there."
"People's lives are at stake here," Tino muttered to Lukas. His friend put his hands on Tino's shoulders.
"You need to calm down, Tino."
"I can't, Lukas, you should know I can't!"
"Yes, you can Tino." Lukas put some pressure on Tino's shoulders. "You can't be any help to Berwald in a state. You have to pull yourself together. Your eye's not going to be very steady if you keep working yourself up."
"What's this I hear about Sergeant Ox?" asked the corporal, sidling into the conversation knowingly. Tino looked at his feet.
"You'll have to excuse him, sir," said Lukas, trying not to shake Tino.
"Nothing to excuse," replied Corporal Bielschmidt, with an elbow in Tino's ribs. "The sergeant's a pretty attractive man, if you like the strong, silent type." Tino looked sideways at his superior officer.
"I agree, sir," he said, on the edge of cheeky. The corporal elbowed him in the ribs again, and then walked away. Lukas breathed a sigh of relief.
"Man, it is so hard to know who's going to be okay with these things," he said, almost to himself. Tino smiled a little, looking less freaked out, though still tense.
"Alright, guys, move out!" shouted Corporal Bielschmidt. The extraction team hurried out of the building.
