The Traiteur's Ring by Jeffrey Wilson Page B

into a belt loop on his pants and then shifted his body towards Reed who already stood half way up on one knee in the doorway.
    The helicopter nosed up sharply and then settled into a hover as Chris kicked hard and sent the rope bag out the door. Reed grabbed the rope with both hands and slipped out the door into the darkness. At the same time Ben grabbed the rope in a two-handed grip close to his chest, counted one-one thousand, and followed Reed out with Auger’s shoulder already against his back.
    Ben looked down the rope through his NVGs to make sure he didn’t come too close to Reed and seeing he had plenty of room, relaxed his grip a little to increase the speed of his slide. Reed landed just before him and moved quickly to the left, then dropped down on his belly. Ben hit a second later and moved right, took a few paces and dropped onto his own belly on the soft jungle floor and began to scan his side of the perimeter over the sight of his rifle. He felt rather than saw the other three SEALs spread out behind him before the crash of the rope as it was cut away from the helicopter. Seconds later the beat of the rotors faded away, and the silence engulfed them. It was strange after the hour of turbine whine and spinning blades from their ride in. Ben continued his slow scan of his section of the jungle around them and saw nothing.
    The heart of the evil is here, Ben. Stop them here, and help us be reborn.
    Ben shook his head, and the old man’s voice faded away. He squeezed his eyes tightly and then scanned his sector carefully. The three minutes passed like ten.
    “Viper lead – clear.” Chris’s voice seemed a loud interruption in his right ear.
    “Two,” Lash followed.
    “Three, clear,” Ben said.
    “Four.”
    “Five.”
    There was another pause, and Ben knew that Chris checked in with the other two team leaders. Ben continued his scan through his NVGs. A soft sound, barely more than a breeze in leaves came to him. Not a breeze, though, he felt sure. It sounded almost sing-song, and he strained to hear it better. He closed his eyes, thinking he would give his mind only the sound to think on for a moment. It seemed for the world like a whisper – or more like lots of whispers. They were high-pitched, like children whispering in the dark.
    – watching–
    That word seemed so clear.
    “Ghost and Mustang are clear.” Chris’s voice startled him back, and he nervously and quickly scanned his sector again.
    Goddammit, keep your head in the game. Focus on the job before you get the whole team killed.
    “Up on me. I have point. Two-by-two,” Chris’s magnified whisper commanded. Ben rose to his feet and spread out from Reed and followed their leader through the jungle towards the target. Twelve minutes and they would be in position.
    Ben used every bit of mental energy he possessed to stay on his job. At times, he had to force away the childlike whispers that seemed now to come from all around him.  After a few moments no more thoughts or images sneaked into his mind. He scanned his sector of the jungle as they moved silently and swiftly to the edge of the village. His mind finally wrapped completely around the task at hand, and in what felt like moments, he took a knee a few yards right of Reed and peered at the three small buildings set off from the rest of the village. The grey image in his NVGs looked blurred by the white light that seeped out from beneath the doorways and through the windows.
    Shitty light discipline. They have no idea the hell that is about to rain down on them.
    He could hear far away muffled conversation and laughter. The building closest to them was their target, and he re-ran the breach plan in his head as they waited for the other two teams to swing around into their positions and check in. Then, they would confirm that the Rangers had the village, and they would go.
    He tightened his hold, not in fear but excitement, on the pistol grip of his rifle. He and Reed would come in