Page 43 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

The barrel of Viper's sniper rifle enters my peripheral vision. He assembled it at lightning speed, his scope already scanning the surrounding forest for danger.

"What's the sitrep, Boss?" Shade asks from behind me, followed by the metallic clang of his rifle propping up on the tailgate.

I adjust my gun, butting it against my shoulder as I scan the camp.

"Dunno. Just a feeling," I answer.

And it's enough.

We've worked together for so long that we trust each other's gut instincts without hesitation.

Seconds pass, and then a full minute ticks by with no change in the camp. Passing soldiers cast startled looks at us, skittishly fumbling to check they have their own rifles close by.

Just as I consider breaking formation to get my Pack in the truck to hightail it out of here, I smell it.

Festering wounds and disease.

After years of fighting the same enemy, I know this smell.

Demi-humans heal before wounds become infected or diseases ravage the body.

Humans are close.

The first shot cracks.

It rips through the canvas of a half-collapsed tent, and from within, a woman screams.

Another burst answers from a different angle.

"Contact!" I roar.

It's too late. The element of surprise is already doing its work.

Betas who were hauling crates drop them and dive for rifles leaning against wheels or strapped to packs. The civilians who stayed as volunteers freeze, their hands full, eyes wide, with nowhere to run because they're not trained for battle. Someone stumbles into the gap between two vehicles, and the sound of a round hitting flesh makes my teeth grind. The body hits the ground heavily.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Another volley tears into the side of a supply stack, splintering the plastic crates into nasty projectile shards that cut skin.

My veins turn to ice, and I swallow back the fear threatening to consume me.

We only just got our Halley back. Viper back. Our Pack back. I will not, cannot lose them again.

"Defensive positions," I call to my squad. This should be as easy as breathing for us. A formation we've deployed hundreds, if not thousands of times. It's never felt like this before. I've never been more aware of how easily my loved ones could be taken from me. "Protect Halley at all costs."

I don't need to say it. I know each of my brothers will do anything in their power to never see a drop of our Omega's blood spilled ever again.

Blaze’s rifle is trained on the treeline, tracking it back and forth as he hunts for our assailants.

Viper, using the side of the truck to steady his sniper rifle, presses his cheek against the stock as his scope scans with sharp, controlled movements. He does not flinch when rounds snap overhead. He has a stillness that comes from a lifetime of practice.

Shade is behind me at the threshold of the tailgate, his body angled to block Halley from any line of fire that might sneak through the gap I left. I don't look back to check her, because if I do, I'll lose focus.

"Where?" Shade calls.

"Northeast treeline!" Blaze answers. "And to the right of the Pass. They’re close."

Prime Alpha Zero is still up near the control tent. I see him pivot, head lifting as his enhanced hearing allows him to catch Blaze's voice over the chaos. He squares his shoulders and relays the information to the Alphas near him. They move fast, but rather than evacuating the scattered and terrified crowd, they fall back toward the Pass.