Special thanks to those of you who have been trying to help me master Thor's dialogue. Those thee's, those, thou's and thy's are really a pain in the neck to master! Methinks I must goest on a Shakespeare binge once done this fic!
Thanks everyone for reading!
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Chapter 69
"Cap, this is Covert Three, over."
"Covert Three, what's your status?" Steve called.
"Detect three sentries loitering as park rangers near the fumerole," the Covert Three leader said. "It looks like this may be the main entrance."
"How can you tell they aren't park rangers?" Steve asked.
"It's seventeen degrees out here, Sir," Covert Three called. "They've been sitting on the bench, pretending to eat their lunch for nearly an hour and not once have they taken a bite. Or moved to stomp their feet."
"Sounds like our guys," Steve called. "Stand by."
He moved his binoculars to the hills behind Covert Three where two members of a Special Forces team were pretending to be snowboarders, skiing down the untamed hills of the Sierra Nevada. As a national park, especially this close to Christmas break when the colleges had just let out for the holidays, the park was filled with escapees from Sacramento and Fresno, looking to get a little winter fun. Mammoth Mountain Ski Area was located on the north wall of the enormous, 20 mile long and 11 mile wide caldera, but that part of the caldera had been ruled out as a suspect. Which was unfortunate, because they could have disguised an entire battalion as skiers and moved into position.
There were always extreme sports enthusiasts who preferred skiing the untamed wilderness. Just enough that he could legitimately put small groups of 2-3 men disguised in the colorful attire of snowboarders on every peak and not arouse suspicion.
"Covert Five, Covert Five, this is the Cap. How are things up there in the hills?"
"Cold, sir," the Covert Five leader said.
"You got eyes on Covert Three?"
"Yes, Sir," Covert Five said. "I agree with their assessment. It's damned cold up here and those guys ain't even pulled off their gloves to rub their hands together."
"Stand by," Steve ordered. He switched the radio dial to the frequency they were using to coordinate the three missions at large. "Director Fury, General Dempsey, this is the Cap. Come in?"
"I read you," General Dempsey said. As the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, he was the lead commander who would give the order to pull the trigger. Having someone that high-ranking take a hands-on approach to a mission such as this was unprecedented. But with the Pentagon compromised, the President wasn't taking any chances. He had placed someone he trusted in charge. After, of course, running the general through the gauntlet of tests they'd cooked up to screen out potential Chitauri shape shifters and drones.
"We have the suspect location," Steve called. "Fumerole just off of Interstate 395. South end of the park, about five miles south south-east of Lake Crowley."
"Have your men cleared that end of the park?" General Dempsey called.
"Affirmative, Sir," Steve called. "Couple of hikers and about a half dozen skiers. All had appropriate reflexes, Sir. We're holding them incognito, just in case."
"The other two targets have been identified," General Dempsey called. "Move your men into position and wait for my command. Standing by."
Steve relayed the information to the soldiers in the field. Flooding the park with two thousand Special Forces soldiers dressed as snowboarders would have been a dead giveaway. It was time to pick the brains of his fellow Avengers. He rolled out the map.
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