“Thanks,” Timo said and breathed deep to help slow his heart rate in case of a follow-up shot.
After ten minutes Alyd spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Team-three.”
“Go, team-three.”
“Confirmed kill on our contact.”
“Understood. Teams eight and nine will set up to the north and south of you. Execute normal intel retrieval procedure,” Lieutenant Risberg ordered.
“Copy,” she said into the walkie-talkie and placed it back down. “Damn it.”
“There go our warm bowls of soup,” Timo said, still looking through the rifle scope. “I hate intel retrieval.”
“Why does command want us to do that?” Alyd asked. “That’s an awfully big risk. What if it’s a trap just to target a sniper team? The Denock wouldn’t be above sacrificing a mercenary to get a crack at one of us.” Alyd scoffed and picked up the spent bullet casings lying next to her and put them in an empty slot in the ammunition pouch. She looked through the spotting scope.
“He’s just a scout, like every other scout. Our teams have killed more than a dozen this year. What’s so special about this one?”
“I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” Timo said.
An hour after dark, they informed the flanking teams they were moving out. The sniper rifle was strapped across Timo’s back. Each of them had an assault rifle slung across their chest. Timo paused and scanned the distant ridge with binoculars. No silhouettes appeared, so they started their descent into the river bottom. They could only use bushes and rocks for cover part of the way, until they had to sprint across the open, snow-covered ground from the edge of the dry river to the spot where the scout lay dead. Timo held his rifle at the ready position and veered to a rocky outcrop to the left, and Alyd veered to one on the right. They crouched behind each, pressing their backs to the cold stone. Alyd took the walkie-talkie from her belt, her heavy breath misted. She keyed the microphone.
“How are we doing?”
Team-eight replied fast. “No movement.”
“Same here,” replied team-nine.
Timo peeked over his rock at the dark hillside in front of him. He took out the binoculars and scanned the ridge top again. The optics gathered the little light available and showed him details he couldn’t see otherwise. He waited and listened. Only the wind moved. His heart rate slowed, but not as much as he’d wanted. Timo hand-signaled Alyd to hold her position. He moved from behind the outcrop, rifle at the ready. The corpse was lying facedown. Timo felt his heart rate quicken again as he stopped beside it.
The scout wore typical Denock garb: sand-colored uniform pants, hooded parka, and gloves. The snow around him was soaked with dark, sticky blood. Timo patted down his back and then around his waist and found nothing. To the right, the camouflage canvas he was using for cover flapped in the wind, held in place from blowing away by a backpack. He moved to the backpack and felt the contents through the outside. Nothing seemed suspicious. After he untied the flap, inside he found a set of civilian clothes with a head wrap and gloves, a revolver, a large knife in a sheath, food rations, a canteen filled with water, and a walkie-talkie.
The knife felt heavy in his hand and its handle smooth. Different-colored wood followed a diagonal pattern across the handle. He drew the twenty-centimeter blade from the leather sheath. The blade was steel, polished to a mirror-like finish, and sharp as the best razor. He’d never seen a knife so well made. He knew that neither team-eight nor team-nine, from their positions across the riverbed, could see enough detail in the dark to know exactly what he was doing. His back was turned to Alyd, blocking her view. He glanced at her. She held her rifle at the ready, scanning the hillside. He put the blade back in the sheath and tucked it inside his jacket.
Next he examined the radio. It looked different from the one he had. It had a short, thick antenna, a rectangular display on the front, and buttons with unfamiliar symbols. He put everything back in the pack, including the camouflage canvas, slung it over his shoulder, and low-walked back to the scout. Gripping the scout by the shoulder he rolled him faceup. Upon removing the cloth wrapped around the scout’s head, Timo saw that he was bald and his skin was dark brown. Timo was stunned.
“What’s wrong?” Alyd whispered from her hiding place.
“He’s an Asus soldier,” he whispered back.
“What? What’s he doing here in the winter? And why’s he dressed like a Denock?”
Timo laid his hand on the dead scout’s head and bowed his head for a silent moment of prayer.
“Go forth, dear soul, from this world in the name of God the almighty Father, who created you. In the name of Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, who suffered for you. May your home be with God in Zion and all the angels and saints,” Timo whispered.
He moved back to his hiding place near Alyd.
“This could be very bad,” Timo whispered to Alyd.
“No kidding! If the Asus and Denock have joined, that could be a real problem. We need to go,” Alyd said. She took the radio from her belt. “Team-eight and nine, we’re returning.”
“Team-eight copy.”
“Team-nine copy.”
Timo and Alyd raced back across the open span of the canyon. Once among the rocks on the rugged hillside, they stopped to catch their breath. A voice came over Alyd’s radio.
“Alyd, this is Masi.”
“Go ahead, Masi.”
“Reetu and I are waiting for you at your gear. Just wanted you to know so you don’t shoot us.”
“No problem.”
Timo and Alyd climbed the hillside to their perch. Masi and Reetu were waiting exactly where they said they would be, by the packs they’d left behind.
Masi, the senior of the two men, spoke. “What did you find?”
“It’s the strangest thing. It was an Asus, but he was dressed in Denock gear.”
“Damn… You think they have joined?”
“That’s our guess,” Alyd said.
“He had a pack with civilian clothes and a strange-looking walkie-talkie. He was using rock camouflage, so keep a sharp eye,” Timo said.
“What’s a scout doing this far north?” Reetu asked, not expecting anyone to have an answer. “Asus or Denock, it doesn’t make any sense.”
“He was probably thinking the same thing about us,” Alyd said.
“We need dinner—stay safe, guys,” Timo said.
After Timo and Alyd left their friends, Timo led the way across an open field into a thick forest of leafless trees. Small piles of snow hid from the wind on top of the branches where the branch met the trunk. The pale snow on the ground gave enough contrast for them to move, without flashlights, silently through the dark woods. They stopped periodically to check for any movement ahead or behind. After crossing a dry creek bed, Timo knelt down and rested against a tree. Alyd rested on one knee beside him.
“I have something I want to show you,” Timo said.
“Not now, Timo. It’s too cold—my lips will just freeze to it… Actually that sounds kind of hot.”
“Is sex all you think about?”
“No, but I’m working on that problem.”
Timo took the knife out of his jacket and handed it to Alyd. She removed it from the sheath.
“What’s this?”
“It was in the scout’s pack. That has got to be the finest knife ever made.” Timo held out his hand