Two of the men, the drivers, had pushed themselves deeper into the back of one truck, leaving the tailgate open. The other two guys, the pilots, had sought refuge inside the other Brave Warrior's cab.

Those drivers they could reach. But the pilots in the cab were already giving Beasley a headache.

He signaled for Jenkins and Hume to get low on the driver's side of the pilots' truck, while he and Brown rushed up to the other truck with the open tailgate, their pistols clutched tightly in gloved hands.

One of the pilots was about to light a cigarette. The other was lifting his glass to take a sip.

Brown shot the drinker in the head. Thump!

But Beasley opted for two shots into the smoker's chest--because the man would become helpful, even in death. He rushed forward, caught the guy before he slumped forward, and whispered to Brown, "Help me stand him up!"

"What the hell are we doing?"

"Marcus, trust me. And we have to move. I need to check in with the bot. That power crew will be there any minute."

"Okay. I think I get it now."

The captain's firing order had come so abruptly that it took Diaz's brain a moment to catch up to her ears.

Holding her breath, she made the slightest tweak to her aim before squeezing the trigger.

While she doubted the click from her rifle was loud enough to be detected by the guards posted around the castle, that second sniper might've heard it. She squinted and observed a blood cloud envelop the first sniper.

Clean kill.

Using the knife edge of her firing hand, she worked the bolt effortlessly and ejected the spent case. After chambering the next round, she clambered to her feet, grabbed the firing mat, and stole off along the ridge.

She needed to cross just ten, fifteen meters to the west to get a more direct bead on the second sniper on the north side. She already envisioned herself in place and taking him out.

The rain was torrential now, and the first jagged seam of lightning ripped through the sky, backlighting the gnarled and dripping limbs in her path.

Just a little farther, she assured herself, her boots thumping, her breath growing shallow.

She was at once scared out of her mind and riding an adrenaline high unlike any she'd ever experienced. She'd been in a lot of foreign countries before, but none held the mystery and foreboding of China.

Too bad she didn't have time to sightsee. She was here to meet exotic people, and, like the old bumper sticker said, kill them.

In fact, Captain Mitchell and the rest of Alpha Team were already heading to the gate, and they needed those entrance guards taken out, so every second counted. Every last one. But she hadn't found her next firing position yet.

She sighed loudly in frustration and gritted her teeth. The balaclava, with a small hole cut out for her Cross-Com earpiece, was soaking wet and beginning to itch. She cursed and reached up, removed the earpiece/monocle, then grabbed the balaclava, tore it off, and kept running.

"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered.

Within a minute Diaz finally settled into her next spot, the balaclava now tucked behind her belt, the Cross-Com back on her ear.

The cold, wet rifle felt perfect against her cheek. She homed in on the second sniper.

Time for him to check out.

But damn it, he was already moving, the red diamond IDing him sliding across her HUD.

She breathed another curse, dragged herself back up, and got moving again.

Mitchell, Ramirez, Smith, and Nolan worked their way across the field, the mud rising to their ankles.

With the rain and their black uniforms, they should be near impossible to spot. Still, sharp veins of lightning printed the sky negative, and the ground rumbled with racing cracks of thunder. During any one of those flashes, a keen-eyed guard could turn his head in the right direction, make his radio call, and open fire. Surprise party over.

A long, earthen wall about four feet tall extended from both sides of the wrought-iron gates, and Ramirez was first to reach it, followed by Mitchell, Smith, and Nolan.

Crouching in the shallow mud puddles, Mitchell activated his MR-C's gun cam, then he rose and slid the rifle over the wall top while peering into the camera's display, which flipped open like a portable video camera's. The screen allowed him to shoot around corners and over the tops of walls, but for now he exploited its recon possibilities. He panned right, then left, and despite the grainy image, he saw enough to elicit a huff of frustration. The two guards posted outside the rectangular building were still at their posts, so Mitchell and the others would have to risk moving in closer to ensure single-shot, clean kills. And the question lingered: what had happened to Diaz?

He slid back down and shook his head at the others, then he checked his HUD, switching to an image coming in from Diaz's camera: she was on the run.

"Diaz, SITREP."

"I lost the second sniper for a minute. Got him now in my HUD. I'm moving position. Can you wait for me?"

"Negative, I need my guards down now."

"Roger that. Stand by."

The truck's schematics had given no indication if the windshield and side windows were bulletproof, and Beasley couldn't take the chance of allowing Jenkins and Hume to make a firing attempt through the glass.

Time for plan B, as in use an enemy body to your advantage. Beasley and Brown kept low behind the dead driver, bringing him over to and propping him up near the truck. Hume, who was hunkered down near the driver's side rear door, moved up and knocked on the driver's window. The guy at the wheel turned.

Between the pouring rain and the darkness, the guy would fail to get a good look at his dead colleague--and that's what Beasley was counting on. The window lowered, and the second it did, Beasley and Brown let the body fall back, giving Jenkins, who was positioned near the truck's front tire, room enough to slide up and direct his pistol into the cabin. His Px4 Storm SD thumped twice. Blood began dripping down the side windows. Jenkins reached in and opened the truck's door.

"Outstanding," grunted Beasley. "Now start with the choppers while I take care of the bot." He opened the truck's rear door and climbed inside, out of the rain. He called up the SUGV's main camera in his HUD and worked the wireless controller to pan that camera toward the main gate. Headlights grew brighter in the distance.

He steered the drone away from its cover spot and began launching all six smoke grenades, positioning them all over the station. The new lock and the threat of an electrical fire, as evidenced by the smoke, should delay that crew a little longer.

By the time he finished and returned the bot to its position, Hume signaled that all vehicles were inoperable and rigged with more C-4, should they choose to create yet another diversion.

Now it was time to move in toward the castle and take out as many guards as they could before falling back to cover Alpha Team's exit. Beasley updated the captain, then ordered Bravo Team to move out toward the building on the castle's west side.

Diaz's attention was divided between the sniper running along the opposite mountain to the north and the two guards below. She had to adjust her damned firing position three times before she finally had her bead on the first guy.

But the rain. All that damned rain. The best she could do was make her adjustments . . . and fire.

The first guard went down, tumbling beside one wall, out of sight. The second guard, standing just around the corner from him and shivering under the overhanging roofline, turned his head, as though he'd heard something.

He began speaking into his radio.