SNAFU: Hunters

“Roger that.” Sierra cut the link on the comms before her fury bled through. It did no one any good to antagonize their ride home. Her lips peeled back to reveal a feral smile of dominant canines and sharpened incisors. “You heard him, ladies, we’ve got a date with the Mistress of Dread and she will not be kept waiting.”

The commandos roared, releasing their restraints and snatching the weapons and packs stashed above their seats. The starboard flank of the insertion craft peeled away with a metallic hum, exposing the pride to a blast of piercing wind. It was bracing after the warm confines of the shuttle. Sierra crouched before the opening as Foxy led the deployment. As soon as the craft leveled the corporal leapt through the door, weapon leading the way. The pride followed with Sierra bringing up the rear.

Foxy hit the ground first and shouldered her rifle, scouring the LZ for hostiles. She found one almost immediately. The report of her rifle announced the death of an enemy combatant hunkered on the ridge even before Sergeant Charlie touched down behind her. The other commandos followed in sequence, dropping into crouches to return fire as rounds zipped through the air to clank off the shuttle’s hull and peck at the ground around them. Sierra waved the First Lieutenant off and, without delay, the insertion craft shot away with a surface-to-air missile on its tail.

Sierra joined her fire to that of the pride, sending carbine rounds at the rocky outcropping shielding an unknown number of hostiles. The commandos spread out and increased the tempo of the fusillade, causing the enemy to hunker down in the face of withering fire. Charlie, given a reprieve, pulled Horus from her pack and spread his stabilizers, bringing him online. The quadrotor zipped into the blistering mountain air with the faintest of hums.

In no time Horus’s sensor suite generated a real-time evaluation of the field and beamed it directly to the wrist-screens worn by each member of the pride. Appraising the display showed them everything they needed to know regarding the battle zone.

“We’ve got eight shooters armed with assault rifles and a single belt-fed spread out on the ridge above. The approach is steep but Horus has highlighted a more accessible path we could use to flank them,” Charlie told the group.

“Charlie, Foxtrot, Juliet, Victor, keep them occupied. Tango, follow me,” Sierra ordered, scrutinizing her own wrist-screen for the flanking path.

In unison, Sierra and Tango shrugged out of their packs, slung their firearms, and dashed across the broken terrain, devouring the distance in a fast and low stride while their sisters provided cover fire. The mountain air was thin and clawed at the back of Sierra’s throat with every breath but it was the least of her concerns. Gunfire from the ridge resumed as the pair reached the mouth of the pass. They paused there to catch their breath. The belt-fed opened up and Tango flinched on reflex though the two had yet to be seen. Sierra grinned. No amount of combat experience ever fully settled a warrior’s nerves.

Another look at the wrist-screen told the Staff Sergeant the enemy had spread even further along the ridge in an effort to counter her people, making their task all the harder. Sierra prayed the Goddess remember the sacrifices of her sisters and keep them from harm. She unslung her carbine and took point, trading speed for discretion on the ascent. Farther down the mountain Foxy’s rifle spoke, silencing the enemy machine-gun emplacement. Sierra swept her aim from side to side as she advanced, confident Tango would catch anyone she might miss in her advance.

They found the first hostile precisely where Horus indicated he would be – kneeling behind a boulder and fumbling a reload. Sierra sent him sprawling with a trio of 5.56 rounds, painting the rocks with his blood. She and Tango sniffed out the next soldier on their own as Horus met with some unknown interference, the target blinking in and out at random. They spied the hostile peeking out of a shallow recess in the mountainside, firing and ducking back under cover to avoid the quadrotor’s scanners. Sierra and Tango lit him up the next time he materialized. He slithered back into his hole, his life draining away.

The commandos resumed their advance along the trail, heads on a swivel and sniffing the air to find the six remaining enemies. Nictitating membranes shielded their large, sensitive eyes allowing them to absorb more light than human standard, providing an unparalleled view of the environs. Their mobile ears swiveled and rotated, tracking for any signs of danger that might have eluded the quadrotor.

‘Hostile MG active, hostile MG active, hostile—’