of any kind, and was only a few miles outside of the city. There was no way to do a lot of shooting without drawing attention.
At least we did have weapons. I’d been inside the main building a few times and had caught a glimpse of the arms room. It was stocked with some of the most modern equipment I’d ever seen, and it was all brand new. Our armorer was a jovial guy named Frank Mann. He sported curly black hair and a bushy black mustache, and was eminently proud of his arms room. He’d been around the block a few times himself, so he, Tailor, and I became friends. In any case it’s always a good idea to make friends with the armorer.
Tailor and I didn’t tell him about the handguns we’d smuggled. Even though they’d prohibited cellular phones and some other items, they’d never bothered to search our belongings. I suspected Frank wouldn’t care. He was as big a gun nut as Tailor and I, and I’d seen him packing what I assumed was a personally owned Glock .45 several times.
Toward the end of the month, things began to pick up. Every day it seemed that there were fewer and fewer of us. The word was that we were being divided up into small groups and sent off to safe houses to begin conducting operations. Sarah hinted that they’d been watching us to see whom we got along with, and who we’d work well with. Frank told me that he’d been issuing weapons to the people that were leaving. It seemed like things were finally going to begin. I was excited; sitting around in the compound had grown tiresome.
On the very last day of the month, I was told to report to the small briefing room in the admin building. It was mid-afternoon as I made my way across Fort Saradia. The sun was high in the sky; it was warm but not hot. A strong wind blew from the north. Every time it would gust, it’d kick up another huge cloud of dust. Other than the howling wind, the compound was quiet.
I was apparently the last one to arrive in the small briefing room. Colonel Hunter and Sarah were standing at the front of the room, talking quietly. A laptop was set up on a table, hooked up to a projector. A portable screen stood at the head of the darkened room.
“About time,” Tailor said, sitting at one of the desks with a notebook.
“Are we taking a test or something?” I asked, sitting next to him. I briefly wondered if this was one of those crazy dreams where you’re back in school and have to take an exam you haven’t studied for.
“They’re shipping us off,” Hudson said from across the room. Sitting next to him was Wheeler, the guy who kept asking questions on the plane. He and Hudson had both been in the Rangers together. Wheeler was a slim, freckled redhead. Despite being from New York, he was a country boy. Wheeler had grown up hunting in the woods of upstate New York, or as he always pointed out, the “unpaved” part of the state.
“To where?” I asked.
“Downtown,” Colonel Hunter explained, facing us at last. “You boys are ready. I’m shipping the four of you off to one of our safe houses in the city.”
“Al Khor,” Sarah said. “It’s the upper class of the three peninsulas of Zubara City. It’s where most of the government ministries are and where most of the Westerners live. It’ll be easier for you to blend in there, but you will operate throughout the city.”
“So, we’re the last ones to leave, and we’re getting an easy assignment,” Tailor said. “Did we screw up somehow, sir?”
“You’re the last team to leave, Mr. Tailor, but you’ll probably get the first mission. I’ve actually been impressed with you boys, so I’m assigning you all to the same chalk.”
“Just the four of us, sir?” Wheeler asked.
“You’ll be fine,” Hunter replied. “Mr. Tailor, you’re in charge of this chalk.”
“Yes, sir!” Tailor answered crisply. I groaned. Tailor kicked me in the shin under the desk.
“From your records, I know that Mr. Tailor has the most combat experience of you
At least we did have weapons. I’d been inside the main building a few times and had caught a glimpse of the arms room. It was stocked with some of the most modern equipment I’d ever seen, and it was all brand new. Our armorer was a jovial guy named Frank Mann. He sported curly black hair and a bushy black mustache, and was eminently proud of his arms room. He’d been around the block a few times himself, so he, Tailor, and I became friends. In any case it’s always a good idea to make friends with the armorer.
Tailor and I didn’t tell him about the handguns we’d smuggled. Even though they’d prohibited cellular phones and some other items, they’d never bothered to search our belongings. I suspected Frank wouldn’t care. He was as big a gun nut as Tailor and I, and I’d seen him packing what I assumed was a personally owned Glock .45 several times.
Toward the end of the month, things began to pick up. Every day it seemed that there were fewer and fewer of us. The word was that we were being divided up into small groups and sent off to safe houses to begin conducting operations. Sarah hinted that they’d been watching us to see whom we got along with, and who we’d work well with. Frank told me that he’d been issuing weapons to the people that were leaving. It seemed like things were finally going to begin. I was excited; sitting around in the compound had grown tiresome.
On the very last day of the month, I was told to report to the small briefing room in the admin building. It was mid-afternoon as I made my way across Fort Saradia. The sun was high in the sky; it was warm but not hot. A strong wind blew from the north. Every time it would gust, it’d kick up another huge cloud of dust. Other than the howling wind, the compound was quiet.
I was apparently the last one to arrive in the small briefing room. Colonel Hunter and Sarah were standing at the front of the room, talking quietly. A laptop was set up on a table, hooked up to a projector. A portable screen stood at the head of the darkened room.
“About time,” Tailor said, sitting at one of the desks with a notebook.
“Are we taking a test or something?” I asked, sitting next to him. I briefly wondered if this was one of those crazy dreams where you’re back in school and have to take an exam you haven’t studied for.
“They’re shipping us off,” Hudson said from across the room. Sitting next to him was Wheeler, the guy who kept asking questions on the plane. He and Hudson had both been in the Rangers together. Wheeler was a slim, freckled redhead. Despite being from New York, he was a country boy. Wheeler had grown up hunting in the woods of upstate New York, or as he always pointed out, the “unpaved” part of the state.
“To where?” I asked.
“Downtown,” Colonel Hunter explained, facing us at last. “You boys are ready. I’m shipping the four of you off to one of our safe houses in the city.”
“Al Khor,” Sarah said. “It’s the upper class of the three peninsulas of Zubara City. It’s where most of the government ministries are and where most of the Westerners live. It’ll be easier for you to blend in there, but you will operate throughout the city.”
“So, we’re the last ones to leave, and we’re getting an easy assignment,” Tailor said. “Did we screw up somehow, sir?”
“You’re the last team to leave, Mr. Tailor, but you’ll probably get the first mission. I’ve actually been impressed with you boys, so I’m assigning you all to the same chalk.”
“Just the four of us, sir?” Wheeler asked.
“You’ll be fine,” Hunter replied. “Mr. Tailor, you’re in charge of this chalk.”
“Yes, sir!” Tailor answered crisply. I groaned. Tailor kicked me in the shin under the desk.
“From your records, I know that Mr. Tailor has the most combat experience of you
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