Chapter 3 #2
“We’re headed down front. Intelligence has gone over the intel we gathered last night.
You’ve got ten minutes.” Graves shoots us both a glare.
“Don’t. Be. Late.” And with that, he jerks out of the room, undoubtedly, off to rally the rest of the team.
“Good thing I made coffee early this morning,” Adam grumbles, heading to the kitchen unit.
He pours the steaming liquid into the cardboard cups he picked up at the store, then hands me one as I step out the door.
“Thanks,” taking it from him, clutching it tight as I let the warmth seep into my hands.
“Do you have any idea what they’ve found?
” I ask as we walk coordinated down the outdoor stairs into the carpark of the rental apartments we hired out.
The sun struggles to break through the thin veil of clouds, sending a crisp chill through the air.
My exposed arms prickle with goosebumps.
“Nothing in the database,” Adam says. “But intelligence has clearance for a larger one than I do - they’ve got access to all the classified files.
” Adam’s good at what he does. Better than good.
If he wanted to, he could get in and view those files without leaving a trace - cookie crumbs, they call them?
I’ll have to check with him if that’s the term.
And maybe whether there are actual cookies in this place when we get back.
The coffee is swirling in the emptiness of my stomach, and I wouldn’t say no to something solid.
Blitz and Phantom descend the stairs just as we reach the meeting point, both looking slightly jarred.
Judging by their expressions, it’s clear Graves hasn’t reserved his early morning wake up call for just us.
Hawk, our Executive Officer - and second in command to Graves - is leaning against the bonnet of a white truck, papers spread across it as he sifts through the reports gathered last night.
He glances up, does a quick head count, and confirms all four of us are here.
“Good morning, devils,” he says with a grin too wide for 0600, or at any time.
He loves this team. We’re split into two units: 616 and 656.
Together, we form the devils’ numbers that make up Ashfall-666.
But as we’re the original team, along with Graves and Hawk spending most of their time with us, we're considered a team of six.
656 is made up of Rhaine, Hunter, and Gunner.
The latter my least favorite member, he’s just an arrogant sonofabitch.
They’re a little less experienced than us on the covert side, so they mostly act as surveillance whilst we run around and do the rest, but they’re just as important.
When Graves was building the foundations of the unit, he knew he wanted two teams to split across areas.
The triple sixes formed by adding 616 and 656 prompts Hawk to consider us all evil demons, hence the nickname devils.
I genuinely think they both spent more time on that, than the actual objectives of our missions.
Graves was chosen to lead this unit as commander after that mission, in part because of me.
They were so impressed by his selection of personnel - including the snap decision to have me join - alongside a co-current private covert mission - that he bypassed promotions, landing straight into the role of commander along with his fourth star.
To be fair, he's served over 35 years in the military - the guy has insane experience. He has rank, he could be a General, but he’s determined to get this mission completed.
I heard Gunner mention before that if he manages to bring Volokov down, he’s on track for an award. .
“Good morning, sir,” we all say in an amused unison.
“At ease, soldiers,” Hawk chuckles at each of us.
The humor isn’t lost on us - he’s easily the happiest guy in this unit.
Standing at 6’2, with dark close-shaven hair and deep brown skin, Hawk is second in command.
He was born in the UK, and that cocky bad boy accent?
Yes, it makes women swoon - especially paired with his athletic build.
He’s undeniably good-looking, and he knows it.
His looks are a weapon. Hell, I’ve been tempted a couple times when we’ve all ventured out to a dive bar during down time, but he keeps it strictly professional.
Hawk shifts into his serious demeanor and begins to debrief us.
“As you know, the mission didn't unfold as expected last night. We were expecting Volokov’s men to be transporting civilians. That exchange never happened, despite initial recon matching the intel reports - all vehicles and associates were present at the warehouse but there was no sign of the anticipated trade.” His gaze sweeps across all six of us before he continues.
“Instead, we observed unidentified individuals transferring cargo from the warehouse and loading it into SUVs. All three cases were silver - all secured with biometric, military-grade locks and marked with serial codes. That suggests high-value and possible chemical material. The locks alone indicate restricted access, but the setup tells us more. The floodlights surrounding the warehouse and the vehicles’ headlights remained on, a deliberate move to deter expected interference, making anyone looking in have to work for it.
We did manage to capture a partial image - something etched on the side of one of the cases.
Looks like it could be the skeletal remains of a bird. ”
We exchange glances, none of us recognizing the partial image as Hawk holds it up on the tablet for us to see.
“We’re currently running database searches, and we’ve sent the intel to the other units - they may have the missing half of our image from their investigations.
We believe we’re dealing with a high-level terror threat.
” He lets out a frustrated breath, a smile edging his lips, “They’re planning a grand reveal.
And from the intercepted communication that brought this meeting to light, it’s possible they knew they were being watched.
They may have switched up the meeting points, with the human exchange taking place elsewhere. ”
I frown. “Do you think they've split into separate groups because they believe they’ve been compromised?” I ask Hawk.
“Yes and no,” he replies, tilting his head from side to side as he ponders over it.
“656 is monitoring the primary group - they’ve been unusually quiet lately.
” He pauses, considering his next words.
“We’ve intercepted most of their communications, and over the past six months, they’ve been coming here more frequently.
We haven’t been able to catch a human trade yet.
But we suspect they’re assembling a unit of foot soldiers right here - potentially to bring them back to home soil for an attack.
Likely planning to keep them there and coercing them into joining his army. ”
I wince. Volokov never stops attempting.
And if his men are kidnapping random civilians, torturing them into compliance with their ideology - then we’ve got a much bigger problem.
“That’s all for now, 616. Our new base is ready, so you’ll be happy to know we won’t be unhoused anymore.
We’ll be heading there in thirty minutes.
Saddle up!” With that, he knocks his hand off the truck door, striding off to his room, already beginning to load the cruiser that carried our belongings here.
A wave of ease washes over me, and it makes me feel conflicted at its presence.
If Noc is alive, we’re moving further away from him, and the farther away I am, the harder it’ll be to try and get back to this warehouse and see if he appears there again.