SNAFU: Hunters

“Alright, listen up and listen well because we’re ETA 4 minutes, max. Two weeks ago, during a routine scan of New York, Intel picked up on an anomalous energy spike.” Boss’ voice boomed over the headset. “PK and EM readings went off the scale for three hours without explanation. Then they stopped. Further scans throughout the day returned no results. In response, we bumped our alert status from blue to yellow and activated SAR Protocol 1. Leak was sent in the following day with instructions to maintain station for a month, investigate grounds and tenants and check in daily with Intel. Two days ago he missed his scheduled check-in time. Scans showed him still within the building and his vitals were steady. Continuous PK-EM sweeps of the building were ordered. Twelve hours later, he fell off the grid entirely. When he reappeared–” Boss looked to Cypher and she reached around the screen, tapped it. “–this signature surfaced, originating in or near his apartment.”

A small, dark mass appeared in the vertical slice on the 6^th floor of the building, pulsing like a beating heart and radiating angry, jagged waves of red in all directions.

“This signature has continued since his reappearance. He has still not checked in. The job is simple. Standard SR&R. We are to evaluate current SAR status while inside, but our primary objective is to rendezvous with Leak in his 6^th-floor apartment and get him out of there.”

Rook noticed that everyone had taken huddled positions by the he-lo doors, weapons strapped and slung. He followed suit, awkwardly bumping into Cypher, who stared at him with disgust. Had he just heard Boss say rescue was priority?

“We go in quiet. That means weapons slung, people. I don’t want engagement before we find our man unless absolutely necessary.”

“ETA twenty seconds, Boss,” Chopper cut in. “Sorry for interrupting, Boss.”

“Do not touch down on the roof, Chop. We’ll drop in. Stay local and stay in the air. We don’t know what’s down there and we’re not taking chances. This shit goes sour and we may need evac ASAP. When I call for dust off, be ready.”

“Boss,” Rook said tentatively. “Sir, I’m confused. Shouldn’t our priority on a Search, Recon and Rescue be to assess and contain threats in accordance with Supernatural Antagonist Response protocols?”

All eyes set upon him, pinning him in place like a butterfly on display. He could feel the needles in his skin.

“That’s what we were taught, Boss,” he added meekly.

“Rook, what I say is priority in every mission. Period. That’s what you should have been taught and you’d better learn it quick or we’ll all pay the price. We are one body. I am the mind. This is not a democracy.”

“We’re in place, Boss,” Chopper said and, with no more than a nod from Boss, the doors on both sides of the he-lo were sliding open, rappel lines thrown over the edge on either side, clamps attached then Shadow Team was gliding down the ropes towards the rooftop in perfect unison, with Rook trailing a few steps behind.

* * *

Rook landed on his feet with a heavy thud. The shock went straight into his knees. It stung. He unclipped from the wild rappel as it snaked through the choppy air.

“Squeeze harder next time or you’ll break your leg,” Cypher said as she passed him without looking up from her arm-mounted computer.  “Entry that way.” She pointed to a rusted doorway sticking up from the roof like a festering sore, her MP5 tight to her back.

“We have touchdown, Chop,” Mouth said into his earpiece. Then, “Oh, fuck off already, just get back here when we call you,” and the he-lo stuttered away in stop motion. Mouth smoothly ejected his mag, checked it and slapped it back in, pulled the charging handle of his short barrel AR-15 and a round chambered with a clean mechanical clank. “I know I’m pretty, but you might want to stop staring at me, Rook.”

“Right, sorry, sir,” Rook said and checked his AR in turn.

“Mouth,” he corrected, and clicked his selector from safe to deadly.

“Right. Sorry.”

Mouth walked away, a pistol-grip Mossberg pump shotgun on his back.

Rook tested his tactical flashlight, flicked it on then off, then slapped at his foregrip. It jiggled slightly. He pulled a knife from his belt and tightened the screw.

“On me,” Boss commanded and the crew scrabbled around him, boots scraping on the rocky rooftop.

“Deacon, give us some protection.”

“Boss.” Deacon nodded and let his weapon fall to the side. Then he locked his hands together and they all bowed their heads in prayer.