Friendly Fire

(26) The Ambush

A plan was forged as we discovered three potential ambush spots where the rebel scum could jump out on us from.

Point A. The upper level of a valley. They'll have the high ground but we have the advantage of the flora below while they have nothing but the hills. We can scatter, hide, and force them to come down to us. They'll need to come down anyways if they're after our supply unit.

Point B. The treetops. Again, they'll have the high ground but their mobility and chances of shooting us are low, especially with all that foliage in the way. But if they were to jump down from the trees then we can strike back as long as they don't throw one of their infamous smoke bombs. That is something we still haven't been able to find a countermeasure against.

Lastly, Point Ca and Cb. The pick-up sight. The area where we pick up the goods which is surrounded by even denser forestry. It will be just them and us in that situation. Or the delivery sight, also known as our base sight. The moment when the supplies do get delivered right at the base. We could risk being infiltrated and run to the ground if they get through our gates. Sure they'll be outnumbered but if they're able to hold a whole village at hostage, make my scouts disappear, and raid our supplies before they even reach the base, they've shown us that they aren't a force to be messed with.

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We started our journey North with nothing except our load-outs and the scorching sun at our backs. We couldn't see or hear anything as we made our way through the trail. Just the sweet songs of birds and cicadas. I couldn't tell if it was a blessing to hear such wildlife knowing that there aren't any potential predators around or if it's a curse that is set to doom us as we are unable to separate the sounds of the wildlife from the sounds of our own potential predators.

I glanced over my shoulder to Private Riley, he hadn't made any comment, gone off wandering, or even gone out hunting for cicada skins. I'm worried about him. He isn't himself anymore.

Lieutenant Davis kept a subtle frown on his face as he tried to stay focused and keep his senses sharp. A difficult thing to do with the forest being so lively.

Our newest member, Cadet Bones, trailed behind us. She looks so relaxed and care-free as if she knows what to expect.

We did make countermeasures, but even then, that shouldn't give her so much security to let her guard down so easily like this. Not to mention, we all could be wrong about being ambushed whether it is the fact that it may not happen; which I'm hoping it won't; or if none of our ambush points are correct and we just wasted our time making pointless and pathetic plans that will be of no use to us.

I made note as we passed each point.

Point A. Nothing hiding above the valley.

Point B. Nothing in the trees except for the forest critters.

Point Ca.

"We're here. The pick-up sight."

A small truck is rolling steadily towards us. The delivery truck. I stood in the middle of the path waiting for it to come to a stop before approaching the driver.

His face is covered up, and only deep, rich, brown pupils meet my gaze.

"Is there a problem here Lieutenant?" The man spoke.

I extended a flat palm towards him.

"Standard inspection. I.D please."

I don't like this. Not one bit.

While the man ruggaged around searching for his I.D., Private Riley walked around the truck, making sure it is able to pass through the rest of the terrain without sustaining damages. If this truck breaks down. It's game over. The base is relying on these supplies. We need them for our own survival.

Lieutenant Davis and Cadet Bones went to the cargo hold of the truck. I assume they're making sure that all the goods we need are all accounted for.

Finally, the man simply sighed and coughed up his I.D. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Name, date of birth, callsign, rank. This is a legit military I.D. for The Elite Strike Force. He is a member. One that I've never seen or heard of in my time in The Elite Strike Force. This only raises my suspicions more.

"Sir. I need you to remove the mask."

Once more the man huffed and rolled his eyes as he reached for the base of his mask and raised it up to reveal a cleanly shaved chin, then a set of lips, and lastly the bridge of his nose.

Before he could fully remove the mask, there is a ruckus in the cargo hold.

"It's a trap!" Is all I heard Lieutenant Davis scream out before firing his gun.

I quickly reached for mine and aimed it at the driver, only to find out that he already left his seat. I looked around for a moment before I felt cold metal prod at the back of my head.

Shit