BDP68

The only way to get to the drop point was by helicopter, so the last leg of the journey was made in a chopper. Father Allen watched the jungle fly by the open doors of the helicopter, thankful for the wind. Even though it brought the familiar smell of rotting vegetation carried on air heavy with moisture, it was better than the troop transport plane they had ridden in coming over. The plane had smelled of metal and old boots, and was almost old enough to have carried him to Vietnam.

The sound of the rotor blades, the tight press of bodies, and the vibrant green below reminded Allen of his last drop. The insertion point came into view. Years melted away as he descended into the clearing cut by the river. Unfortunately, they all came back with a rush as his feet hit the ground. His joints groaned in protest, but he straightened and moved back into the shelter of the jungle. Only an idiot greenie stood around without cover, and he hadn't been that in longer than some of these boys had been alive.

At least Allen didn't have to remind any of them, the Black Dragons faded back into the woods like the professionals they were. The group moved back, wanting to get away from the drop point. As rehearsed, they began to move in a beeline for their target, only to veer sharply to the right after a mile. It would lengthen their travel time, but the Dragons had agreed that their superiors could not be trusted. A little extra walking would not kill them, but having too much faith in others could.

Mobius let them keep their current vector for an hour, checking the compass on his watch periodically. It would be easy to lose all sense of direction here under the canopy, where the light was diffused and there were no landmarks. It was just jungle, and more jungle.

Finally he judged they had gone far enough, and brought them back in a westerly heading. They should be near the perimeter of their target in the next two hours. With that in mind, Moby signaled to Nottingham and Lee to scout ahead.

Ian smiled wolfishly, and slipped away from his brothers. Lee took a point equidistant and to the left from him. Each could catch glimpses of the other out of the corner of their eyes, which was as it should be. It would not do to be so close together that the detection of one would also expose the other.

Nottingham moved with speed and stealth through the vegetation, eyes alert for anything. The smell of moist earth and growing things had become familiar over the past few hours, and he could now better discern individual scents along the air. A jaguar had rested in the tree he had just passed, the acidic musk as obvious to his enhanced senses as the quiet rustling of the snake moving out of his path.

The primal surroundings spoke to something equally elemental in Ian. He forgot that it was just a training exercise, and that their guns held only blanks. Nottingham moved through the jungle, feeling every bit the predator that he was. His prey was just ahead somewhere, and before the night was over, they would fall to his skill.

When the wind brought the stink of metal and man, Nottingham slowed and flashed a signal to Lee. They spread further apart and moved with even greater caution. The two ghosted forward, senses alert. They knew they were very close.

The ground ahead of them suddenly stopped. They were at the edge of one of the sharp drops of stone that were so prevalent in the area. Nottingham and Lee dropped to their bellies and crawled to the edge of the ledge. Pushing aside a clump of sawgrass, Nottingham looked out upon an enclave.

They were above the thick concrete walls, which gave Nottingham an excellent vantage down into the enclave. He raised his binoculars to his face, counting guards. There were two men to each of the four corner turrets, armed with high powered rifles, six men at various points on the grounds, and four at the open gate.

The men on the wall turrets lounged with ease, watching the jungle around them with casual disinterest. The men on the ground weren't any better, mostly talking among themselves. There was only one gate, and those guards at least were facing the right direction. It would look pretty bad if someone managed to drive up that dirt road and surprise them.

Ian grinned. These fools were clearly used to the isolation and concrete barriers doing their work for them. Eighteen-foot walls with a layer of concertina wire on top might discourage the local predators, but to a Dragon, they were as easy. The obstacle course they ran almost daily was more difficult, honestly.

Maybe tomorrow the guards would be more alert; since that was the day the Black Dragons had indicated they would actually make it through the forest and do their reconnoiter. Wasn't it naughty of them to lie about their timetable to their superiors?

Speaking of recon, he'd better get to it. Mobius would expect a full report when they returned. Nottingham looked over the wall and surrounding area for sensor plates, but found none. How trusting of them. Idiots. Not that he should be complaining that security was not up to Vorshlag standards. It made his job easier if it wasn't.

Refocusing the binoculars, Nottingham looked in as many windows as he could, trying to see if the layout matched the intelligence they had been given. Surprisingly enough, it did. Supposedly the 'hostage' they were to rescue was in the middle of the central building. So far it looked straightforward enough. They could go over the back wall, sneak into the main building, 'rescue' the hostage, and be gone before dawn.

Nottingham took a last look around, fixing in his mind where they would need to come out of the woods so they would be at the rear of the complex. That done he eased back from the ledge and waited for Lee to follow. They would meet back up with Mobius, discuss what they had learned, and wait for the cover of night to attack.

This was going to be like taking candy from a baby.

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Moira had been sleeping soundly, the demands pregnancy made on her body leaving her exhausted by the day's end, when the very distinctive sound of gunfire pulled her awake. Burke opened one eye, just a slit, and examined her guards. The two were facing away from her, but she could see the tension in the set of their shoulders and the way they gripped their rifles.

Not knowing exactly where in South America she was, Moira had to wonder if this was some kind of military coup, with the research facility about to be overrun by guerrilla fighters. Well, if that was the case, she was not going to be sitting here in her pajamas when the opportunity for escape came.

For escape it would certainly be. Burke was not naïve enough to believe that whoever was attacking the lab would 'save' her. Unless that meant saving her for dessert, which was not a comforting thought in the least. She could not depend on her pregnancy to protect her from male attention, that much she knew well enough. But lust was a double-edged weapon. A man thinking of fucking was a man not thinking about killing, and that hesitation was all Burke needed to get in the first, and hopefully deadly, shot.

While that would seem to argue for staying in sleepwear, Moira had no intention of running into the jungle so scantily clad. There were far too many biting insects and sharp edged grasses, not to mention how starkly her pale skin would stand out in the darkness. Burke padded to her closet on bare feet, her hands reaching for clothing automatically, her eyes watching the guards.

They were ignoring her, for which Moira was very glad. Oh, not that she was worried about them seeing her naked, she was hardly modest these days. But if their attention were elsewhere, they wouldn't notice her bundling extra clothing together, among other things.

Moira had planned ahead, insisting that there be food in her room at all times, as she was always hungry. Some of it she really did eat, but the non-perishables had been carefully held back for just such an opportunity. Those went into the blanket as well, any clanking largely muffled by the spare clothes.

Next came the pregnancy corset. Besides being precious support for her back, the stiffeners had turned out to be long strips of steel with a thin coating of some kind of latex, most likely to prevent rusting. Moira had taken two out in the bathroom and, under the cover of morning sickness noises, scraped the coating on one side off against the metal siding on the shower door.

The edge had proven to be fairly sharp without the latex, which was good, as Burke had no way to grind the metal. It wasn't an F-S fighting knife, but it was far better than nothing. In fact, the very whippy steel had potential. Moira had worked out a few moves, targeting imaginary eyes or throats; until she was satisfied that she understood the range of her makeshift blades. A little more practice, and she could strike two targets simultaneously.

Although Burke took them out periodically to drill with, the strips always went back into the seams, point down of course. There was no place in her room to hide the weapons that they would not be found. Having the shank-like blades constantly on or around her person kept them safe from detection, as well as being ready to use, should the opportunity present itself. Which it just had.

Moira sidled up to the bars of her cell, a nine-inch strip of metal in each hand. When she was in position, Burke asked in a loud but casual voice, "So what's going on?"

Both men jumped slightly at the unexpected question and turned, probably to tell her to shut up. Instead they were both silenced as thin steel blades were shoved through their eye sockets and into the brain behind. Burke twisted her wrists and jerked the metal back out, doing even more damage on the exit. It was unlikely that the vicious little twist mattered, the initial thrust should have killed them, but Moira liked to be thorough.

The two dropped, falling forward against the door. With no time to be graceful about it, Burke dropped her shivs and grabbed for the guard who carried the keys to her cell. Ignoring the fluids oozing from his ruined eye, Moira held the dead man against the bars while her other hand scrabbled over his belt. Finally her searching fingers touched metal, and she jerked the keys free and shoved the corpse backward, not wanting the door blocked by his bulk.

Opening the lock was a little awkward from the inside, especially with the last two fingers of both hands lost to frostbite, but not terribly difficult. Door open, Moira pocketed the keys and turned around to pick up her makeshift blades. While bending over to search the bodies, she wiped the shivs clean and slid them back into the corset. Her search yielded two spare clips of ammunition for the guns, three packs of cigarettes, sixty pesos, and about a pound of gold jewelry. Knowing she would need to barter at some point, Burke took the gold and cigarettes as well as the weapons and money.

The guards had been in shape, so the only way to get the gun belts around Moira's expanding form was crosswise, like bandoliers. A grin spread across her face as she imagined how she must look. "The Bannock Bandito rides again."

Burke sauntered down the hall, resisting the urge to run. Whoever was in the security monitoring room was probably paying attention to the perimeter only. Anything moving fast might redirect his gaze, which lessened her chances of making it out undetected. For the same reason, she kept her arms down and let them swing normally, even though each hand was wrapped around a gun.

All that careful planning turned out to be for nothing. As Moira turned the corner, Casca was waiting for her. He gave that cold, predatory grimace that, for him, passed as a smile. "Why hello again, herr doktor. Going somewhere?"

"Well, for some reason I'm craving Chinese food. I thought I'd just go grab some takeaway." Burke said flippantly and began raising her hands, ready to drop him where he stood. Before she could complete the motion, six guards stepped into the junction point.

"Ah, ah, ah," Casca shook his finger admonishingly. "Why don't you drop your weapons and come with us. That way, ve can all greet your friends together. I do so want to see Nottingham's face when he realizes you are alive."

"What?" Moira froze, her mind racing. It was possible that she could take out the guards before they could incapacitate her. After all, they were under orders not to damage the children she was carrying. Burke had no such constraints, but she had been caught by the idea that Ian was here.

"Oh yes, he and the other test subjects are trying as hard to get in as you are to get out. Ironic isn't it? Very soon now, they'll be exactly where we want them."