The desert stretched endlessly under a moonless sky, the air heavy with grit and silence. Ethan Clarke, now known as Crimson, crouched low behind a rusting oil drum, his eyes fixed on the crumbling compound ahead. Even in the dim light, the faint glint of barbed wire and the jagged shadows of sniper nests were unmistakable. It wasn't his first mission in hostile territory, but it might be his most dangerous.
Inside his earpiece, a voice crackled to life, low but urgent. "Command to Red Leader. You're clear to proceed. Maintain comms every five minutes. Good hunting."
"Copy, Command," Crimson replied, his voice calm and measured. He turned to his team, their forms blending with the shadows. Eight men and women, hardened by training and combat, all looking to him for direction.
"Alright, listen up," Crimson began, keeping his tone steady. "Call signs only from here on out. We've got ten hostiles confirmed inside, snipers on the roof, and a possible armory in the south wing. Hostages are priority one. We go in silent, take them by surprise. No mistakes."
On his left, "Viper," the team's sniper, peered at the building through binoculars, a frown of concentration on his face. "Tangos on the roof. Two shooters, west and south corners."
"Take them out on my mark," Crimson said. "Ghost, Shadow, you're breach team one. Take the east entrance. Reaper, you're with me on breach team two for the main door. Viper, you get in position and you stay sharp. If anyone so much as scratches their nose, I want them gone."
"Understood," Viper muttered, already scrambling to the nest of rocks he had chosen as a good vantage point.
"Phoenix, you and Dagger secure the extraction route," Crimson continued. "Hawk, you're overwatch. Get the drone operational and keep comms open. Let's move."
******
The team moved like phantoms, their boots whispering against the packed dirt.
"In positions, " came Viper's voice over his comms.
Crimson led breach team two to the front of the compound, a battered steel door standing between them and the enemy. He motioned to Reaper, who knelt to plant the breaching charge.
"Charge set," Reaper whispered, his gloved hand hovering over the detonator.
"Viper, you're green," Crimson murmured into his mic.
The reply came almost instantly. "First target down. Second target down. Roof is clear."
"Copy that," Crimson said. "Reaper, blow it."
The charge detonated with a muted thump, the door buckling inward. Crimson was the first through, his rifle sweeping the dimly lit hallway. The smell of sweat and gun oil hit him like a wall. Two guards spun toward the noise, their rifles rising, but Crimson's finger was already on the trigger.
Pop-pop.
Both guards crumpled to the floor before they could fire a shot. Behind him, Reaper covered the rear, his weapon trained on the corridor as Ghost and Shadow entered from the east, their paths converging with precision.
"East wing clear," Ghost reported.
"Main hall clear," Crimson added. "Move to secondary positions. Phoenix, status?"
A crackle of static preceded Phoenix's reply. "South wing secured. Hostages confirmed. Five civilians, all alive. Looks like they're being held in a storage room. Dagger's with them now."
Crimson allowed himself a brief exhale. The first objective was complete. Now came the hard part—getting everyone out alive.
******
"Contact! West corridor!"
Hawk's warning came a second before gunfire erupted. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete walls, sparks flying as the squad scrambled for cover.
"Reaper, suppressive fire!" Crimson barked.
"On it!" Reaper growled, leaning out to unleash a burst from his rifle.
Crimson darted to the corner, peeking just enough to assess the situation. Five insurgents were advancing, their movements coordinated.
"Viper, I need eyes on the west corridor," Crimson said.
"On your six, Red Leader," Viper replied. A single shot rang out, and one of the insurgents dropped, his weapon clattering to the floor as the rest dove for cover.
"Four left," Crimson muttered. He signaled to Shadow and Ghost. "Flank them. Use the side hallway."
The two soldiers nodded, disappearing into the shadows. Moments later, another burst of gunfire echoed through the compound, followed by silence.
"West corridor clear," Ghost confirmed.
"Good work," Crimson said, motioning for the squad to regroup.
******
The hostages were huddled in a dark, windowless room, their faces pale and terrified. Phoenix and Dagger were already cutting their bindings, whispering reassurances.
"We're getting you out of here," Phoenix said, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.
Crimson stepped into the room, scanning their faces. An older man clutched a young girl, his eyes filled with equal parts hope and fear.
"Stay close to my team, and do exactly as we say," Crimson instructed. They nodded in response.
But before they could move, Hawk's voice cut through the comms, tight with urgency. "Red Leader, you've got incoming—multiple hostiles from the south. Looks like reinforcements."
"How many?" Crimson demanded.
"Too many," Hawk replied. "At least twenty from the looks of it. And they've got heavy weapons."
Crimson's stomach tightened. The extraction route was compromised, and the enemy was closing in fast.
"Command, this is Red Leader," Crimson said into his mic. "We're pinned down with hostages and heavy opposition inbound. Request immediate air support."
"Negative, Red Leader," Command replied. "Air support is unavailable. You're on your own."
"Well, we need some kind of assistance," Crimson protested.
"Your know the mission parameters, Red leader," came the voice of Command. "There is no air support in the area because we're not even supposed to be here. Whatever you do, do not let the hostages fall back into hostile hands"
Crimson clenched his jaw. His squad was outnumbered, outgunned, and running out of time.
Running his hand through his hair, "Hawk, sitrep?"
"Tangos are right outside the building," Hawk replied in his voice that had gone emotionless. A sure sign he was anxious.
"Reaper, set charges at the main hallway. Phoenix, get those hostages ready to move."
"What am I to do, Red leader?" Viper asked.
"Sit tight, Viper. They don't know you're there. Let's maintain that for the time being."
"What's the plan, Red Leader?" Ghost asked, his voice strained.
Crimson didn't answer immediately. His mind was racing, weighing the impossible options before him.
The insurgents were closing in, their shouts growing louder. He had two choices: hold the line and risk his squad being overrun but giving the hostages a chance to escape, or switch to the offensive knowing that the pace they'd take would put the hostages in harms way and probably leave some of them behind.
He had no doubt that without the hostages, his team could make it out alive. This wasn't their first rodeo after all.
His finger hovered over the trigger of his rifle, sweat dripping down his temple.
"Red leader, we're out of time!" Viper shouted.
Crimson looked at his squad, their eyes full of trust, and at the terrified hostages behind them.
The decision would haunt him forever.