The chopper flew in under cover of darkness, dropping me a short hike from the rendevous point. The contact should be waiting with the intel on Santa Blanca’s operations in the local area. After checking my gear for the hundredth time it was time to move out.
The terrain was rough and steep. The dirt track well worn and rutted by vehicle movement. Since they reached out, the rebel forces have really started to grow and mobilise. Santa Blanca have monopolised and crippled the country, it’s time for a regime change. Destabilising a destabilised government can’t make anything worse, surely?
Splitting off from the track and climbing up a gentle rise, I hunkered down in the brush and launched the scouting drone. Guiding it towards the contact’s house, a small jeep was parked outside, fuel barrels lined up alongside it. Gear cases stacked next to the building looked well used, ammo boxes concealed under a tarp nearby. Subtlety is something these rebels lack, good thing the Ghosts are here to help.
With no hostiles detected, I moved in closer. I knocked on the door and waited for it to be opened. The door cracked open slightly, a man peered out timidly and looked me up and down. He opened the door fully, nodded and gestured me inside, dim light spilled out onto my boots.
Stepping inside the space, the room was consumed by a large table with a map spread out on top of it. Computer and communication equipment hummed audibly in the far corner of the room. There were two other people in the room aside from the man who opened the door; a man in rebel colours and a woman who looked more at home in an office than here in the Bolivian mountains.
“Ah you must be our Ghost,” she said, as she looked up from the map, “Welcome to the rebellion, Agent.”
“Thanks. What’s the situation?” I replied, focusing on the man in rebel uniform sat at the table.
“Not good, Santa Blanca have forces spread far and wide. Their operation is split into four main sectors… but you already know this from your briefing. One of El Polito’s liutenants is overseeing distribution of supplies here.” she said, pointing at a circled section of the map not far from out location. “You need to bring him in alive and acquire any intel you can along the way.”
“He will be easier to locate during the day while they are at the command centre. There will be few men with him.” said the rebel, speaking up for the first time.
“Good to know. I guess you should bring me up to speed while we wait.” I said, settling in for a long night of briefings.
The sun beat down mercilessly from its noonday perch, high in the sky. Stealing a few hours rest in the cool shade of the house, I felt charged and ready to bring the target in. A trail bike had been supplied by the local rebels for my use as transportation. Fast and agile, I was sure it would become invaluable to me in the coming weeks of Operation Wildlands.
Approaching the small construction site I noticed a small graveyard nearby. The recon drone scouted the area on silent wings, marking the armed sicarios wandering the site. Two in the site accompanying the target, one in the watch tower and 3 down by the supply trucks.
I moved up towards the first of them, keeping low and quiet. He stood by a stack of bricks smoking a cigarette. As he moved to stub the cigarette out I lined up the sights. A gentle squeeze of the trigger and the suppressed P45 removed the target. 1 down, 5 to go.
The second sicario had isolated himself atop the building under construction on the left side of the site. Easy picking from this short distance. Another silent shot and the target collapsed to the ground. The lieutenant looked up from his command tent briefly but went back to a heated discussion on his phone. Distracted as he was, it was easy to creep up towards him, the building supplies providing plenty of cover.
Pacing back and forth within the tent whilst yelling into his phone I waited for the right moment. Throwing his phone down with a shout he returned to the laptop set up on a table to one side. I swept in behind him, trapping his hand away from the gun in his belt, I wrapped an arm around his neck. Applying pressure as he struggled in futility, I lowered his unconscious body to the ground.
Scanning the documents on the table with my OpSat and closing the laptop for collection, I turned towards the watch tower. The lookout overseeing the trucks being loaded below heard nothing as my knife slashed his throat. Blood spraying the inside of the tower as he fell, I checked to see if the men below had noticed. Still in the clear, I climbed down the rock face to the east, using what little shade there was to descend to the supply area. The 3 men stood close together around a crate at the back of the truck.
As they crouched down to lift the box into the truck, I squeezed off 3 more shots. The box clattered to the ground, spilling its contents, as each shot found their mark. The weapons lay in the dust and wreckage of the crate. Searching for any discerning features, I found a shipping manifest pinned to one side. Sloppy work but good intel for us. I quickly placed a tracking beacon on the remaining supplies, the rebels would be able to come by later and retrieve them. These guys aren’t going to need them after all.
Returning to the command tent I hoisted the unconscious lieutenant to my shoulder and carried him to a nearby jeep. throwing him across the backseat, I jumped in and made my way back to the safehouse.
It’s time we took the fight to them!