(Seis)mic Waves: Operation Prometheus Part VI

Operation Prometheus. August 26, 2084. Local Time: 3:30 AM. Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. Status: [REDACTED]

Kelly and I make our way back up to Boyd. He's still taking a fair bit of gunfire, but it's died down somewhat. Figures a bunch of them went to help out with the helicopter crash. 

"Got any ideas for the giraffe up there?" Boyd says, lobbing a grenade over the bushes.

"I'm sorry, the who?" I ask, utterly baffled. Boyd gestures up at the fortified tower. "Ahh." I see a couple of tracer rounds zip into the bushes about six feet away from us. 

"I don't think they actually know where we are, boss," Boyd says, signaling at the hostiles. I take a quick peek, noticing several of them shifting positions toward the now-downed helicopter. "Check the giraffe, he's been firing off bursts starting at that access road over there," Boyd continues, gesturing at a dirt path that leads directly to the airfield. "Now he's made his way back to the bottom of our little ridge here, and I suspect he's going to keep taking shots until the end of his field of view. He's just hoping that something sticks.

"Out of ammo," Kelly informs us. "Can't cover y'all out there." I click my tongue. 

"That's fine. I wasn't planning on going out there anyway." The bullets just keep hailing down from the tower. But I think Boyd was right. The shots are slowly starting to get more and more distant. 

Since the shots are dying down a little, I decided to survey the situation. I briefly turn on the display of my watch. It's a little after half past three. Sun's due to come up in a few hours. Overlord said that our disavowement protocol was set to kick in 24 hours after when we last contacted him, but realistically, the minute the sun comes up, we're finished. We get the time from now to sunrise, and then after that, maybe three, maybe four hours until we're really in for it. Probably less than that. We've got to get the package back into American airspace before our deadline. 

On the bright side, we're pretty close to our target. We're on a ridgeline here which overlooks a little valley. There's another rocky outcropping about three-quarters of a mile from here. The airfield sits just behind that outcropping, with one of the runways extending out into the ocean. On the edge of the outcropping is a small gaggle of residential buildings that aren't opulent enough to be called homes, but also aren't decrepit enough to be huts. 

"Boyd, we can only take two when we bring The Cat back to Eisenhower. Your exit plan was to hold out for Cormorant over at that spot where we came from, right?" I ask, beginning to formulate a plan. 

"Yep, Cormorant was due in 12 hours when we last spoke to him," Boyd confirms, fumbling around in his pockets for another magazine. 

"See, this is why I don't trust Overlord and Provost. They just expect Boyd to wait around for Cormorant in broad daylight on a heavily guarded island. We've already been discovered and shot at multiple times. I don't even know how they found us the second time around!" Kelly points out, brushing a blonde strand of hair off her forehead. "And between Damascus, L'Manburg, Nukeya City, and who knows how many other debacles, it's a miracle that we're even alive." 

"I'll be fine, I'm sure," Boyd grins innocently, reloading his sidearm. "It could be fun! Like our little stint in Sarlington Tower." Kelly raises an eyebrow, incredulous.

"I don't know about you, but I'm definitely trying to avoid any last-minute escapes from nuclear annihilation this time around."

"Now you have got to admit," Boyd chuckles, "Overlord and Provost did declare that mission an outstanding success."

"Overlord and Provost also put us in that situation to begin with, so you can understand if I'm less than inclined to give a rat's ass what they think," Kelly points out, as she begins packing up the sniper. "I'm very aware of the oath I took to put my life on the line to defend my country and the Constitution, but you know as well as I that they don't have those things too high up on the priority list," she continues, squinting at the airfield. 

"Now, Kel, you've gotta admit that's crazy. Sure, there's been some shady stuff we've had to do, but it's all in good faith." Boyd takes a few more potshots before starting to pack up. "It's part of the job description."

"I don't know about y'all, but I signed up to be a Naval Aviator. Why Provost recruited me to the Habus is honestly beyond me."

"We were recruited to be Habus because we're the best at what we do. We're the best fighters, and we're the best survivors. Right now, we're going to need a bit of both if we want to get through this," I interject. "Kelly, I have personally wanted to rip Overlord's head off on more than one occasion, but if we want to get to that point, we need to get through this." Kelly rolls her eyes. "Boyd, are you fine hanging until the second window?" He nods assent. 

"Alright, then we still need to figure out a way to get the hell out of here," Kelly gestures aggressively. "I've say we've got two hours, maybe three, tops, until daybreak. We can't come in hot, because they outnumber us and if they understand the significance of the objective, they'll just fly it out of there or worse, destroy it entirely," Kelly says, shifting back down the ridgeline. "The airfield is walled off, so we can't just sneak in the side."

I follow her down the ridgeline as we make our way to the access road. "So we gotta talk our way in, is that it?" I ask, wondering how in the world we're meant to pull that off. Special Forces gear tends to stand out in broad daylight, and even more so under scrutiny. 

"Would you rather swim in?" She responds, gesturing to the far end of the airfield, where the runway meets the water. Approach lights illuminate the waves as they crash against the asphalt. "Well..." She thinks about it for a minute.

"Oh no. No way. Middle of the North Atlantic, pitch black? Do you not remember that disaster in St. John's?" I ask, ludicrous at the thought of such a ridiculous plan. 

"Yeah, because walking up to these guards in a full ABWTF Habu Uniform and trying to talk our way in is a perfectly viable strategy," Kelly smirks, rolling up her sleeves. "What's the matter, scared of a little water?" She asks, grinning. 

"You know what?" I groan, shaking my head. "Looks like we're going swimming."