"Wait, we're landing on an AA position?!" Lace yelled, shocked.
“Ever tried to hit a man with a missile?” I retorted back, rank or not he was still a child in the big leagues. “Their guidance systems work of heat; we won't be shedding much through our suits." Lace still didn’t seem convinced as he readied his weapon.
“"Captain, you will address me by my rank when asking a question!" Anderson snapped. Lace just rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. The transport shook lightly as it banked towards the ocean and leveled out. One of the pilots flipped the ready light, causing it to cast a sickly orange glow throughout the hull. Anderson checked his FAMAS’s safety. He then pulled his combat knife out, shaking it threateningly at Lace, who immediately got the message. Shaking my head I strapped my submachine gun across my chest and took my rifle off my shoulder. A loud metallic whine reverberated inside the transport as its rear door eased open. The orange jump light flicked green.
“Go, Go, GO!” Anderson yelled over the howling wind. Before either could jump I leapt from the transport into the cool night air. Stars twinkled by like the lights of a small city. Ever since I was a child I had envied birds and their ability to fly; now they envied me. As the wind whistled by I concentrated on the DZ. A small, moving, dimly platform atop the Super Destroyer Harbinger. Slowly I relaxed and waited to hit the proper altitude. 4,000…3,000, NOW.
Sharply, I spread my arms and legs causing the fabric to bowl and slow me to a more manageable velocity. It took only minutes to slow and land lightly atop the missile’s platform. Anderson landed not two minutes after me, just as graceful. Again Lace was late and clumsily slid head over heels, smashing into one of the AA batteries control panels.
“What the fuck?” I hissed into his ears as the dazed Captain recovered himself. He shot me a lopsided smile and readied his weapon. I turned to the aft section of the ship, we need to get to the port side of the aft section, I thought making a metal note of everything in the area. Anderson held up a closed fist then pointed to fingers, to his eyes then towards a small bridge that stretched the entire girth of the ship. I fell to prone and snapped the rifles bi-pod out.
Slowly I breathed in and sighted down the scope. Two guards were standing casually against the guard rail smoking and talking. My finger wrapped around the cold steel trigger. Breathe in; one of the men turned his head. Breathe out; a third guard appeared momentarily taking one of the two with him. Now just a solitary guard stood watch. The world fell silent as I pressed lightly against the weapons trigger. With a unnoticeable whisper the rifle fired landing a bullet dead center in the guards head, making his head explode and body crumple. Not a sound was made, leaving me feeling only the light touch of the rifles recoil. I stood, removed the bi-pod and nodded to Anderson.
"Cloak," was all he whispered back. My special armor flickered lightly, turning nearly invisible. It was time to find Harbinger’s deadly cargo.