After a few hours of tense travel, the helicopter finally approached the coastline of Spain. The once peaceful sea had turned into a distant memory as the team shifted their focus to what lay ahead. The pilot, calm but professional, grabbed the radio and made his first call to the Spanish military authorities.
"This is the BSAA helicopter, requesting permission to land."
The team waited, the tension in the cabin thickening as the silence on the other end of the line stretched on. Seconds felt like minutes, and no one spoke, all ears tuned to the static-filled radio.
Lester felt an uncomfortable knot form in his gut. This was supposed to be a routine landing—expected, coordinated. But the lack of response was enough to put everyone on edge. The silence wasn't right.
The pilot tried again, his voice firmer. "Spain Armed Forces, this is the BSAA helicopter. We are calling for landing clearance."
Still nothing. The only sound was the constant whir of the helicopter blades slicing through the air. Lester's unease grew, his instincts screaming that something was off. He glanced at his team, and their expressions mirrored his own concern.
On the third attempt, the pilot repeated the request, his tone growing more urgent. "Spain Armed Forces, this is the BSAA helicopter. We are requesting permission to land."
Just when Lester was about to suggest an alternative, the radio crackled back to life.
"This is Spain Armed Forces," a voice finally responded, the line distorted but clear enough to understand. "We received your call. You are cleared to land."
Lester exhaled, though the tightness in his chest didn't ease. Something about the delay didn't sit right with him. He caught Ali's eye, and he nodded slightly, as if he too was picking up on the strange vibe. Even with permission granted, the landing wasn't going to feel smooth until they had their boots on the ground.
The pilot turned to the team, giving a quick thumbs-up before guiding the chopper into its descent. The rolling hills of Spain became clearer as they neared the designated landing zone—a barren strip of land that seemed far from any major city. It was remote, quiet, almost too quiet for an operation like this.
Lester glanced out the window. "Everyone, stay sharp. We're not home free just because they answered the radio."
As the helicopter touched down on the desolate tarmac, the air felt strangely still. No one was there to greet them—no sign of the Spanish armed forces or anyone else, just the distant hum of the helicopter's blades beginning to wind down. Lester scanned the area, feeling a sense of unease settle over him.
Frederick gave him a look. "No welcoming committee?"
Lester shook his head. "Doesn't feel right."
Just then, the radio inside the helicopter crackled to life. A low, static-filled voice came through.
"BSAA team, proceed to the black hangars. Go to the last one on the right. Knock on the door three times, pause for two seconds, then knock once more quickly. Move out."
Lester glanced at his team. Jason, Williams, Ali, and Frederick exchanged uneasy glances. It wasn't exactly a standard procedure. But orders were orders.
"We move," Lester said. "Stay sharp."
They disembarked, their boots crunching against the gravel as they moved toward the row of black hangars. Each step seemed louder in the eerie silence. The hangars loomed large, shadows pooling around them, giving off an oppressive atmosphere.
When they reached the last hangar on the right, Lester motioned for his team to stop. He stepped up to the door, feeling the cold metal beneath his gloved knuckles.
Three knocks. One… two… three.
He paused, waiting for the instructed two seconds.
Then, he knocked once more, quicker this time.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for something—anything. The silence stretched out for what felt like forever.
Lester's team waited in tense silence after the final knock, feeling the weight of the moment. Three seconds passed before the heavy metal door creaked open, revealing a narrow entrance, barely wide enough to let one person through at a time.
Lester surveyed the opening, feeling the weight of unseen eyes. "Single file," he ordered, his voice calm but firm. "One by one. Stay alert."
Frederick went in first, slipping into the dimly lit interior of the hangar. Jason followed, then Ali, their movements quick and precise. Lester stayed outside with Williams, watching their six.
As Williams approached the door, ready for his turn, a sudden crack split the air—a sniper shot.
Williams jerked back, narrowly dodging the bullet. Though it hadn't hit him, the force knocked him off balance, sending him sprawling to the ground. In an instant, the door slammed shut with a loud metallic clang, locking Frederick, Jason, and Ali inside.
"Captain! Captain's still out there!" Jason's voice came through, muffled but urgent. "Open the door! Now!"
Frederick and Ali's voices joined in, demanding for the door to be reopened. "Let them in, damn it! Open the door!"
Lester ducked down, quickly dragging Williams behind a nearby crate for cover. Another sniper shot rang out, barely missing them.
"Hold tight, Williams," Lester muttered as they both crouched low. He scanned the area, trying to pinpoint the sniper's location. His heart pounded, but his mind stayed sharp.
Williams, breathing heavily, nodded. "Did you catch where that came from?"
"Not yet." Lester's eyes swept the rooftops of the nearby buildings, searching for the glint of a scope or movement that would give the shooter away. "But they've got us pinned. We need to move fast."
Williams winced but adjusted his grip on his rifle, his eyes flicking towards Lester. "Can we even get to the hangar now?"
"We have to," Lester said. "We'll flank around, find some cover, and force them to reveal themselves." He keyed his radio. "Frederick, Jason, Ali, hold tight. We're pinned down by a sniper out here."
"Captain, it's no use," Frederick's voice crackled through the radio, heavy with frustration. "The locals aren't opening the door. They said they've already lost too many trying to move past the snipers. No one gets in or out until those shooters are dealt with."
Lester grimaced, quickly scanning their surroundings. "So we're clearing them first."
Williams, crouched beside him, tightened his grip on his rifle. "What's the plan, Captain?"
Lester pointed toward a stack of crates by the wall. "We move, take cover there, and work our way around to flank them. We need to force them out into the open."
Williams nodded, determination in his eyes. "Let's clear these bastards."
"On my mark," Lester instructed, locking eyes with Williams. "One... two... three!"
Both men bolted, sprinting towards the crates. A sharp crack pierced the air as a sniper fired, the bullet barely missing them. They dove behind cover, the sound of the shot still ringing in their ears.
As soon as Lester and Williams reached the stack of crates, they huddled behind them, catching their breath. The cover was decent, but they were still in the sniper's line of sight if they made any wrong moves.
Lester activated his comms, trying to maintain composure. "Jason, Frederick, Ali—can any of you see a window or an angle to help with these snipers?"
There was a brief pause before Jason's voice came through, tense but focused. "We're already checking, Captain, but all we see are dead soldiers near the windows. These snipers must've picked them off trying to make a move. We need to find new positions if we're going to get a shot off without ending up like them."
Lester cursed under his breath. The situation was tighter than he expected. "Alright. Keep your heads down and search for an opening. We'll clear these snipers and get the door open, but stay sharp."
Williams wiped some sweat off his forehead. "Captain, we need to find a way to get those snipers distracted long enough for the team inside to take a shot."
Lester glanced around, formulating a plan. "Yeah, but first, we need to get a sense of where exactly those snipers are hiding." He peered over the crates briefly, scanning the rooftops, searching for any movement that might give away the enemy's location. "We'll draw their fire, make them reveal themselves." He nodded toward Williams. "When I give the signal, you make the move for that next cover. I'll keep their attention."
Williams hesitated for a second but then gave a firm nod, trusting his captain's instincts.
Lester hit the comms again. "Frederick, Ali, be ready. We're going to make them show their position. Get your rifles ready to pick them off."