Chapter 11

We parked the RV on the outskirts of Kansas City, in an inconspicuous location near a local diner. We didn't venture inside, preferring to be unseen. The McDonalds' food we had saved up was enough to keep our bodies satisfied for the night, though we were starting to get fed up with it.

Needless to say, sleep wasn't coming along easily. On the eve of a mission, camped up in the most uncomfortable Winnebago that ever existed, I don't think I even fell asleep once. By the time the alarm rang to wake us all, I had already given up. It wasn't just me.

Lack of sleep wouldn't make us reconsider, though. We were there for a reason, and the tiredness did nothing to deter us. We ate the last of our food for breakfast, and I was on coffee duty. The RV was mostly silent as we prepared. By that point, we had all revised our roles inside and out. It was probably one of the most professional missions I had ever been involved in.

Says a lot, doesn't it?

The time came around, and even if we didn't feel entirely ready, we had to make our move. Tobias, who had already taken to the skies, watched over our RV as we all morphed bird within.

Birds of prey, to be precise. Thankfully, most of our morphs were native to the area, except for Jeanne's, but who would notice?

One by one, we left the RV, with Tobias making sure that we weren't being watched. Once out into the sky, we would ensure that we didn't cluster, spreading out wide across the Kansas City sky. I was the last to leave.

I ruffled my wings as I looked out of the open door. Menderash was standing to the side, looking as stone-faced as ever.

"Prince Jake, I wish you luck, though I don't think you'll need it," he spoke to me.

((Thanks, Mendy. Say, why don't you use Marco's money to get us some after-mission dinner? Something other than McDonald's?))

He frowned at me. "I thought we weren't to be seen."

((One person ordering food can't hurt. Just don't go making a scene.))

"I promise not to, Prince Jake."

With that, I spread my wings and leaped from the RV door and upwards into the dawn sky. Far in the distance, I could make out a couple of other birds of prey. I tested our thought-speak range, and though they were faint, they were all present and ready.

((Okay, let's go to prison!)) I called.

((I think we'd be the first to say that willingly,)) Santorelli retorted.

The five of us headed onwards. It was only about a five-mile distance, and we had left with plenty of time, so there was no need to rush. It was a steady flight.

Then we spotted the prison. It was a collection of buildings forming one large, walled square. The front end was made up of the largest of the buildings and the main entrance. It was vast and narrow, but it opened up into the rest of the facility behind it: several cell blocks and various other structures. We saw the open areas where the prisoners would mingle, but nobody was present at the time.

I recalled the layout that we had revised. I could make out the Visser's cell block. It was nothing impressive. I also saw the security block where Marco would be entering.

((Bigger than it looks on paper,)) Marco analyzed.

((It's big, alright!)) Santorelli added.

They were both hovering nearby on my right. I peeled away slightly to keep some distance. A prison holding a Yeerk Visser would be a little more observant than the average civilian, and we were close enough to be seen.

((It's all in the plan,)) Jeanne reassured. ((As long as we have somebody in the center, we will keep within speaking distance.))

((We all know what we're doing,)) I added. ((We stick to the plan, and we don't make ourselves known. We'll get out of this.))

Marco chuckled. ((I miss hearing you getting all Mr Leadership. Don't you worry about us, man. You just concentrate on getting the answers we need.))

I would have rolled my eyes if I weren't in morph and looking out for suspicious security guards. ((And remember, this isn't like before. We don't want to tear this place up.))

((Hear you loud and clear,)) Santorelli responded. It was his greatest concern going into the mission, and I wanted to reassure him that that was a firm message to everybody.

I added, ((No causalities. No battle morphs. There are innocent people in there.))

((That never stopped us before…))

I looked upwards at Tobias, where the voice had come from. His snarky remark had caught me by surprise, and his timing couldn't have been worse. It stuck in my mind.

Nevertheless, I said nothing in return. It wasn't the right time. I had to concentrate on the mission at hand. ((Tobias, I trust you to keep a close eye on the facility without looking out-of-place. The rest of us need to go down one-by-one. Can't have four different birds of prey landing in the prison at the same time.))

((Gotcha, boss!)) Santorelli called with a military firmness.

((Sarge, you're first,)) I ordered. ((You know where to go.))

The Golden Eagle instantly turned and descended downwards. The rest of us watched as he approached, looking like any regular old bird of prey.

He landed precisely where he needed to: atop the building exactly halfway between the security block and the Visser's block. He was out of sight of anybody on the ground, landing behind a ridge that blocked him from the main entrance building. He would likely still be seen from the larger northern buildings and the guard towers, but as long as he remained looking just like any other eagle deciding to visit a prison, he should have been okay.

((Tobias? Can you hear me, buddy?)) he asked. He needed reliable communication with every one of us.

((I can hear you, Sarge. I won't drift out of range,)) came Tobias' reply.

With Santorelli in place, it was time for the rest of us to descend. Marco was next. He flew down to what we knew was the security block and quickly disappeared behind a vent.

((Marco's in!)) Santorelli called up.

((Are you ready, Jake?)) Jeanne asked me.

((Always ready,)) I lied. ((Follow a minute or so after me.))

With the slightest flick of the feathers of my wings, I turned downwards. The Visser's block was in sight, a very new building that sat alone along the facility's west edge, split apart from the rest by metal fencing. Behind the block was a small storage shack, some trash cans on either side. That was my demorph point.

I turned in the air to bring a more comfortable landing. ((Okay to land?)) I called out to Santorelli.

((Looks good!)) he replied. ((Nobody alert.))

I zoomed down into the facility, my left wing almost flicking against the barbed wire to my left. I landed with a slight bounce on my feet in front of the storage shack. I squeezed past the trash can on the left and found myself an enclosed space to demorph.

((I'm in!))