Free Hard Drop by Will van Der Vaart Page B

 
    “Yeah,” Tyco grimaced. “’Cause that’s safe.” Chip ignored him and carried on, slamming the magazine home with special emphasis.
    Hog hesitated before climbing into the driver’s seat, turning to Tyco instead. “Shouldn’t we – uh – blow the bridge?”  
    “Good point.” Tyco nodded, then glanced at Ringo. “Take it down, will you?”  
    Ringo smiled toothily and pulled out his machete with a dull ring, lumbering off towards the bridge. Hog looked at Tyco, disappointed and disapproving. “What?” Tyco asked, annoyed. “It doesn’t always have to end in ‘boom’.”
    “I could cut those ropes from here.” Chip said, brandishing his rifle.  
    “You rest your eyes.” Tyco answered, grimly, remembering his missed shot. “Besides, it gives the big ape something to do.”
    Ringo chopped at the thick rope suspension strands with maniacal intensity, sweat flying freely as he threw himself into it. The blade cut steadily through the rope, until finally first one side, then the other snapped, and the entire bridge fluttered dramatically into the water below. It had hardly reached the spray before the current caught its edge and swept it away, ripping it from its moorings at the far end.
    Satisfied, and with a distinct swagger, Ringo returned and climbed aboard the APC, swinging up into the gunner’s seat. The engine growled to life and the wheels turned. They were underway.  
    With one last look back at the collapsed bridge and the men lying dead on the ground behind them, Tyco ducked into its belly, rapping his knuckles against the roof with a touch of pride in a job well done.
    “Let’s go.” He called down to Hog. And then, muttering to himself with a worried look at his small team, “Time to see who else made it.”

SIX: SNOWBLIND

    From high on the hillside, Flip had watched the muzzle flashes below, had felt the resonance of the explosions and seen the battle play out. She had paused, sheltering against the mountain wind behind a rocky outcrop, staring down into the valley below with wary eyes as the team handled the patrol. She had watched anxiously as Hog fell into the river, laughed as she pulled herself back out, and laughed even louder when Chip went down in the fetal position, smothering the sound with her gloved hand.  
    Above all, she was relieved she hadn’t had to intercede. It would have meant giving away her position, and she couldn’t afford that. Her rifle had gone straight to her shoulder with Chip’s first wayward shot. It had fallen away again slowly as, one by one, the soldiers of the patrol slumped and fell, their blood dripping deep red on the rocky ground below them, visible in stark contrast even from this height. She continued to watch until the team mounted their APC and drove off up the road, leaving her to return to her task.  
    The beacon on her display blinked white-hot on the display, pulling her ever farther up the hillside. The trees had thinned slowly, and a thin blanket of snow now covered the ground at her feet. The temperature had dropped, and the going was slow, but the countdown at the top of the screen was insistent. She continued on up the hill, knowing they wouldn’t miss her down below. Tyco, the Drop Commander, was the only one who’d really noticed her in the launch bay, and she could tell he hadn’t known what to make of her. Anonymity was what she’d wanted, after all; she had joined the unit quietly the day before departure, a last-minute replacement to a last-minute training accident, they’d been told, and she had kept mostly to herself on the weeklong voyage since. There was no point in loudly announcing her presence, not for just one mission.
    She turned back up the hill, following what little was left of a path into the deepening snow. The gusting wind stung her cheeks and eyes, making her wish the ride down hadn't been quite so harsh, or abrupt. Her ears, red with cold, reminded her in no uncertain terms of the helmet she