Chapter 13
The predawn air was freezing, biting through the camouflage uniforms as the squad lined up outside the staging area. The simulated combat zone stretched out before them like a vast, silent ocean of darkness and shadow. Overhead, the stars were slowly fading into a pale, bruised violet sky as the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon.
"Lock and load. Blanks only, but treat every encounter as live fire," Vance ordered over the tactical radio channel, his voice crisp and absolute. "Move out."
The squad stepped off the line in a textbook diamond formation, led by Elena at the point and Miller providing rear security. They moved through the dense underbrush with silent, deliberate precision, every step calculated to minimize noise and maximize cover. The months of grueling physical correction, endless push-ups on wet asphalt, and brutal night marches had transformed them from a disorganized rabble into a cohesive, lethal unit.
Suddenly, the sharp crack of a blank round echoed from the tree line to their left, followed immediately by the simulated chatter of a machine-gun nest.
"Contact left! Take cover!" Elena hissed, dropping instantly behind a thick earthen berm while the rest of the squad deployed into defensive positions around her.
Miller swung his M4 around, scanning the brush for the flash of the opposing force's weapons. His heart hammered in his chest, but his hands were steady, his breathing controlled. He remembered the chaos of the live-fire range, the panic that had nearly gripped Davies weeks ago, and how far they had all come since then.
"Davies, suppress that ridge! Miller, on me—we’re flanking right," Elena ordered crisply, her voice cutting through the mock gunfire like a blade.
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Without hesitation, Miller fell in beside her as they surged forward through the tangled underbrush, moving from cover to cover with fluid synchronization. The simulated battle raged around them—noise, smoke, and chaos—but their focus remained absolute. They crested the ridge, neutralized the opposing simulated outpost with a coordinated assault, and secured the objective data drive within minutes.
As they regrouped at the extraction point, panting and covered in dirt, Vance stepped out from the shelter of a thick oak tree, a rare, approving nod resting on his weathered face.
