Ghost and Heartbeat ran the last few steps and halted at the door of a small building. Heartbeat cautiously peeked in, barrel first—thankfully, the room was empty. A steaming cup of tea sat on the table, suggesting this was a rest area.
Heartbeat dragged the corpse inside while Ghost kept watch. The surrounding area remained silent—none of the recent activity had drawn attention.
Swagg smirked when he saw through the scope that Heartbeat was back outside.
"Bullseye, we're in. Keep watch," Owen's voice crackled through the earpiece. The two snipers shifted their scopes. Owen stood at the warehouse door. It wasn't clear if he could see them, but he gestured toward their direction before disappearing into the building.
Swagg scanned the area. Fred focused on Ghost's side.
Moments later, Ghost's team found their way in as well.
Fred raised his VSS and took position. The two snipers now covered both routes.
"Pfft, pfft~"
"Clang, clang~"
Two different suppressor sounds rang out. A soldier trying to approach the warehouse entrance was instantly dropped by Swagg. On the other side, someone discovered the hidden body Ghost had left—Fred took care of him before he could raise the alarm.
"I found it. Small arms are in here. Herman, bring your people," Owen reported through the comms. Hidden in the shadows, Herman pumped his fist in excitement. Sneydar's eyes lit up as well—they had really done it. Up to this point, the depot's guards still hadn't noticed anything.
"Be careful, son…" Sneydar said, patting Herman on the shoulder. Herman nodded eagerly, then crouched and led the guerrillas to the breach.
Herman carefully imitated Omega's movements. The guerrillas passed through the fence gap and crept to the wall. From there, they made their way to the entrance and slipped inside.
Inside the warehouse, Owen pried open a wooden crate with his knife. Inside were rows of AKs. Another smaller box held grenades.
Bayev cracked open a few more crates and laughed. "Look at this!"
Owen leaned over. Damn—anti-tank mines and RPGs. Premium gear.
Meanwhile, Ghost called over the channel, "Guys, we've got the good stuff over here—tanks, armored vehicles, even a helicopter. Anyone interested?"
Heartbeat's excited hollering was heard faintly over the mic.
The guerrillas were already moving crates. Owen kicked a few at his feet and told Bayev, "Have them take these. Blow up the rest."
"Nooo—"
Herman looked like a miser watching his treasure get looted. The thought of blowing up all this equipment hurt his soul.
Owen shot him a glance and ignored him. Over comms, he continued, "Ghost, blow up everything on your side too—especially the mine-clearing tank."
"Don't blow it up! Don't!" Herman panicked. They couldn't fly the helicopter, sure—but the tanks and APCs? Those were every guerrilla's dream.
"Execute the order."
Owen shook Herman's arm off and said sternly, "You're guerrillas. What the hell are you gonna do with heavy armor? You know how to operate tanks? You know combined arms doctrine?"
Herman had no response. He tried to backpedal, "Forget the tanks, but the stuff in this warehouse—"
He looked like a miser losing his fortune. Owen cut him off. "Enough. This is more than enough for you. You can't even carry more. You want to leave the rest for Borbon to use?"
Owen's tone was final. Herman gave up. Bayev pulled out his C4 and began placing charges. On the other side, Ghost and Heartbeat did the same—on fuel tanks, under treads, wherever they could. Heartbeat even caressed the helicopter cockpit like a lover before planting explosives.
After finishing up, they both looked at their now-empty packs and shrugged. No more C4. Borbon had narrowly avoided total annihilation.
"We're pulling out. Cover the retreat," Owen said over the comms as he began escorting the guerrillas out.
Not only had they raided Borbon's munitions depot, but they were also letting the guerrillas walk away with a huge haul. In the shadows outside, Sneydar clenched his fists. He barely kept himself from cheering. It was really happening. Unbelievable.
In Swagg's scope, the guerrillas emerged from the warehouse and sprinted along the wall. Each carried a large crate, faces lit with excitement.
"Pfft, pfft."
Any sentry that could have posed a threat was picked off by Swagg. He was like a guardian angel. Owen led the group from the front; Bayev secured the rear.
Ghost and Heartbeat exited from the other warehouse but didn't immediately rejoin the main group. Instead, they diverted to nearby intersections.
After silently eliminating two dozing guards, Ghost and Heartbeat pulled out M18A1 Claymore mines and started placing them. With the "Front Toward Enemy" label facing inward, Ghost carefully set them in place, armed them, and the two withdrew to rejoin the main group.
Back at the fence, the first guerrilla with a crate slipped through. Bayev stood guard and shot down a suddenly appearing soldier.
The second, the third—they streamed out, running toward cover. Bayev even clipped another hole in the fence to speed things up.
Fred kept a close eye on the watchtower. A searchlight swept across the fence breach, then stopped—one guerrilla mid-climb had been spotted.
Crack! Fred shot out the spotlight. The breach fell back into darkness, but it was too late. The alarm wailed through the base.
"Don't stop! Keep moving!" Owen shouted. They'd been discovered—now speed was everything.
Suppressor fire rang out as guards arriving at the scene were gunned down. But the enemy was massing fast.
BOOM
A Claymore mine detonated at an intersection. 700 steel balls sprayed in a sixty-degree cone. The area became a slaughterhouse.
More explosions followed. Steel balls tore through soldiers, cries of pain echoing everywhere.
Owen urged the guerrillas to keep moving. More and more slipped away into the night. Finally, the last guerrilla made it through the breach and vanished into the darkness.
"We're pulling out. Sniper team, cover us," Owen said.
The Claymores had slowed the enemy. Omega began to retreat. The four operators moved in unison, slipping through the breach.
Random gunfire cracked nearby. Omega crouched low, sprinting fast. In the distance, they spotted Sneydar and Herman waiting at the forest's edge.
"Damn it," Owen muttered. "Why didn't they leave first? Why are they waiting?"
But he kept moving.
Back in the base, soldiers were flooding in. Swagg and Fred didn't even need to aim anymore. Targets were everywhere. More spotlights swept the grounds, and Omega's position was exposed again. Bullets flew their way.
"Sniper team, withdraw!" Owen ordered as he and the others dove into a shallow depression in the terrain, lying flat to avoid fire.
Bullets thudded into the earth, the pfft sounds almost forming a constant hum. The sheer volume of fire showed how many were shooting at them.
Just as Owen predicted, the warehouses were surrounded. Officers shouted commands, the compound gates creaked open.
"DOWN!" Owen yelled, slamming the detonator.
BOOOOOOM!
The ground shook. Omega stayed flat. A massive shockwave tore outward, heat sweeping over them even from a distance.
At the forest edge, Sneydar and Herman were knocked down by the blast. They stared in shock, dumbstruck.
Omega lifted their heads from the dirt. Silence. No more gunfire—only the crackle of flames.
The two warehouses were gone. Black smoke and flames lit up the night.
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/Mutter
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.