章 28: More Terror to Counter Terror, Terrible
Location: Mountain Ridge, Northern Virek
Date and Time: April 30, 2553 – 1500 Hours
The wind whips across the rocky ridge, carrying with it the smell of rain and the promise of another storm rolling in from the mountains. The weather on Virek has been unpredictable at best, and today is no different. The sky above is darkening, heavy clouds gathering, and I know it's only a matter of time before the rain hits.
But that's not what has my attention right now.
We've been tracking URF movements along this mountain pass for the better part of two days, watching as they move supplies and personnel between hidden camps scattered across the ridges. It's a logistical network, one that Command has ordered us to sever.
But the URF is slippery, and every time we get close, they vanish into the terrain like ghosts.
"Any sign of movement?" I ask quietly, crouched behind a jagged boulder as I scan the valley below with my binoculars.
Santiago shakes his head, his eyes sharp as he surveys the area. "Nothing yet. But they're here. I can feel it."
I nod, trusting his instincts. We've been on edge since the last engagement, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The URF doesn't like to stay quiet for long.
The pass below us is narrow, flanked by steep cliffs on either side. It's the perfect place for an ambush, and I'm all too aware of how exposed we are up here. We've positioned ourselves high on the ridge, hoping to get the drop on any URF forces moving through the pass, but so far, the valley has been eerily still.
"Keep the ECM ready," I say into the comms, glancing at Dash, who's holding the compact ECM Jammer. "I don't want any surprises."
He nods, keeping the device close. It's become a standard part of our kit now, and it's saved our skin more than once. But the URF is always adapting, and I can't shake the feeling that they're planning something new.
Suddenly, there's a flicker of movement in the distance—just a flash of shadow darting between the rocks.
"There," I murmur, focusing my binoculars on the spot. "Movement, 200 meters out. Looks like a patrol."
Santiago follows my gaze, nodding as he spots the figures moving along the ridge. "I count four, maybe five. Could be a scouting party."
I consider our options for a moment, weighing the risks. If we engage now, we could disrupt their operations and send a message. But if they're just a decoy, we could be walking into a larger trap.
"Hold position," I say, my voice low but firm. "Let's see where they're headed."
We watch in silence as the URF patrol moves through the pass, their movements careful and calculated. They're not in a hurry, which makes me think they're not expecting trouble. But something about the way they're moving feels off—too deliberate, like they're trying to lure us in.
My gut twists, the same instinct that's kept me alive through more firefights than I can count. This isn't just a patrol. This is bait.
"Contact Command," I say into the comms, keeping my voice steady. "Tell them we've got a patrol in the area. Could be a decoy."
O'Neill nods, switching to the secure channel as he relays the information. "Command, this is Bravo. We've got eyes on a URF patrol moving through the northern pass. Potential ambush. Requesting guidance."
The comms crackle for a moment before Command's voice comes through. "Copy that, Bravo. Proceed with caution. Air support is on standby if needed."
I lower the binoculars, my mind racing as I consider our next move. We've got air support if things go sideways, but I'd rather not call in the heavy guns unless it's absolutely necessary. The last thing we need is for the URF to scatter into the mountains, making it impossible to track them.
"We move in slowly," I say, giving the order. "Stay low, stay quiet. We engage on my mark."
Bravo Fireteam moves into action, slipping from cover to cover as we inch our way closer to the patrol. The air is thick with tension, every step bringing us closer to the moment where this delicate balance could tip into chaos.
As we get closer, the details become clearer. The URF patrol is equipped with standard-issue rifles, but they're carrying something else—something larger, strapped to their backs. I squint through my scope, trying to make it out.
"They've got something," Dash whispers, his voice barely audible over the comms. "Looks like a heavy weapon. Could be a mortar."
My stomach tightens. Mortars mean they're planning to hit something big, and soon. This isn't just a routine patrol—they're gearing up for an attack.
"We need to stop them," I say, my voice steady. "Get ready."
We close the distance, moving into position behind a rocky outcrop that overlooks the pass. The URF patrol is directly below us now, their attention focused on the path ahead, completely unaware of our presence.
"On my mark," I whisper, my finger hovering over the trigger of my rifle. The tension in the air is electric, every second stretching out as we wait for the perfect moment to strike.
And then, just as I'm about to give the order, the ground beneath us shudders.
An explosion rocks the pass, the blast throwing dirt and debris into the air as a hidden IED goes off just ahead of the URF patrol. The rebels scramble, shouting orders as they try to regroup, but the explosion has thrown them into chaos.
"Move!" I shout, seizing the opportunity.
Bravo Fireteam leaps into action, rifles firing as we charge down the ridge. The URF forces, still reeling from the explosion, are caught off guard. They return fire, but their shots are wild, uncoordinated.
We hit them hard, pushing them back with every step. Santiago is a blur of motion, his rifle spitting fire as he takes down two rebels with precise shots. Dash and O'Neill flank them, cutting off their escape route.
Within minutes, the fight is over. The URF patrol lies scattered across the pass, their weapons and gear left behind as we secure the area.
As I stand over the wreckage, my heart still pounding from the rush of combat, I realize something. The IED wasn't meant for us. It was meant for them. The URF had rigged their own patrol route, likely to cover their retreat or as a last-ditch defense.
"Looks like they didn't trust their own men," Santiago mutters, kicking over one of the fallen rebels.
"Or they were trying to lead us into it," I reply, my mind still racing. "Either way, we got lucky."
We secure the area, gathering intel from the fallen rebels and marking the location of the IED for Command to investigate. The mission is a success, but the danger is far from over. The URF is getting more unpredictable, more desperate. And that makes them even more dangerous.
As we prepare to move out, I take one last look at the ridgeline, my thoughts drifting back to Emily. The chaos of the fight had pushed her from my mind, but now, in the quiet aftermath, she returns.
There's more to this war than just the fight. And I need to find a way to balance both sides of my life before it tears me apart.
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