Extreme Measures

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ETA to extraction: twelve minutes and counting.

Zane Archer scanned the darkened compound from the trees just beyond the perimeter wall and tried to ignore the sweltering jungle heat.

Too bad it didn’t work.

Sweat gathered under his fatigues and beneath his helmet, but he knew that soon the temperature would be the least of his worries. Wiping a hand over the moisture dripping into his eyes, he looked through the scope. At this hour—nearly three in the morning—the only lights flickering were in two windows on the second floor of the Mediterranean-style mansion. A guard roamed the portico outside the first floor, and other than a few howler monkeys chirping in the jungle canopy nearby, no other sound besides rustling leaves and palm fronds met his ears.

He glanced at his watch again. ETA to extraction: eleven minutes, twenty-five seconds.

Nerves fluttered in his belly, but he ignored those too. Keeping the M4 carbine rifle trained on the guard, he tipped his head toward the com unit near his shoulder. “Look alive, boys. We’re coming up on go time.”

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