Freedom Day

Chapter 3 - "Now it Begins"

En Route to "La Perla Blanca", Ibiza, Spain
0130 hours (local time)

Five days after the Bartlett Attack

...

It's rave night. As usual, the world-famous hotel-and-club sitting at the easternmost tip of Vila d'Eivissa was a full house. Debutantes, hormone-addled teens, and haughty socialites. Ryad Ramirez came to this conclusion simply on account of the loud party music, blaring from the distance. The rough waves and strong winds of the night weren't enough to mute the noise.

Kids these days...

He peered into the lenses of his Steiner 10x50, keeping his hands steady even as the sea rocked the boat. La Perla Blanca, 'The White Pearl', was absolutely bristling with lights, even from half a mile away. The partyplace looked like an anomaly, a little piece of the 21st Century beside the ruins of a medieval watchtower. Ancient walls draped in moss were also covered with flat-screen TVs and neon sparklers. The old courtyard was converted into a swimming pool, where all kinds of revelry take place. And the palm trees looked imported- they most definitely didn't grow at the rocky cliffs of the island. The magnificent Castillo de Ibiza, perched on the distant hill, dominated the background.

Putting the binoculars away, Ryad lowered the Eyenox Model III resting on his crown and hoisted the custom C7E across his torso. He hoped that the rave party would be enough to distract everyone from the commandos approaching from the west. His inflatable Zodiac was among a small fleet of five boats, carrying a total of 40 police officers from the Grupo Especial de Operaciones, speeding its way towards the coastline. The assault teams didn't have any ship support or helicopter cover, so they had to use the starless sky and quiet humming of the boat engines to conceal their movement. Another company of special forces police was also en route, on a convoy of at least ten vehicles, several kilometers away.

God-willing, tonight would be the year's biggest drug bust in Ibiza for the Policía Nacional.

"Treinta segundos (30 seconds).", Ryad told his men.

Everyone performed a last-minute weapons check in response. Actions were cleared, scopes were inspected, and laser sights were activated. The team was armed with a mix of suppressed SMGs and assault rifles for this mission, all loaded with hollow point bullets to minimize collateral damage. Flashbangs and tear gas would be used for crowd control, when needed. With their guns checked out, the masked commandos proceeded to inspect each other's black wetsuits and tactical vests. The eight members of Team One were expecting a lot trouble tonight, more so given the number of non-combatants waiting for them on the shore.

*Yawn*

A man let out a whiff of air. It was Ryad's second-in-command.

"Oye (Hey), Garza...", he snapped a finger in front of the man. "...No te duermas ahora (Don't fall asleep now)."

"*sigh* Soy un madrugador, señor, no como tú... (I'm a morning person, sir, unlike you...)", he grumbled, much to his superior's amusement.

Everyone went past their bed time tonight just for this mission. For the team leader, this was nothing more than another day in the field. To be fair, a part of him also wanted be elsewhere rather than to be risking his neck; he still had some case files to review back in Madrid.

The party music became louder as their boat reached the southern dock, completely undetected. Perfect timing. Using hand signals, Ryad ordered his team to disembark, one man at a time. They hopped ashore, as quiet as mice, and hugged the wall near the stairs leading to the ruins. The last commando towed a line from their Zodiac to one of the docking posts, tying the rope firmly to prevent the boat from drifting away. Everyone kept to the shadows to avoid detection. Heedless of the teens and yuppies having a good time on the floor above them, the commandos entered the next phase of the mission.