"Execute Operation Addis Ababa," said Mount Olympus. Inside the soldier-for-hire camp, an order was issued: find Lieutenant Nova and Sergeant Orion and protect the deserters at all cost. Some speculated Earl van Blowtorch had bank rolled their operation for his own end. Other mercenaries whispered of a local arms merchant, who had a financial stake as a hostage-for-bitcoin transaction with General Thornton Leroy Maxwell. However, not a single mercenary knew who Mount Olympus was and the soldiers-for-hire sure as hell followed orders from the voice-over-the-radio just ask Ursula Liberia.
Hades had fulfilled his duty of another day of scorching light and retreated into Pandemonium for another day of night. A Corporis of LAX scout-drone made of harvested plastic from the Pacific Ocean flew across red-blank sands of the African Sahara. The scout-drone's painted fuselage was blue-gray and its jagged camouflage made it invisible to the naked eye from the ground below. The scout-drone's autonomous-navigation system connected to Deep Listen's global positioning system. Its miniaturized neuromorphic-brain downloaded terrestrial coordinates to the centimeter. The scout-drone's armed wing-drone carried lethal destruction beneath its recycled plastic-belly; a pair of Corporis of LAX manufactured Styx air-to-surface missiles.
The Corporis of LAX scout-drone and its armed wing-drone rode thermal drafts for greater altitude and better image resolution. Three fan engines were housed within the fuselage powered by super-conducting capacitors. The scout-drone and its armed wing-drone raced through the transition zone of early evening while the late afternoon desert shed its thermal blanket. But, hidden within a rocky-crag between boulders taller than A.I. Minotaur near the base of the Atlas Mountains, an alone female mercenary searched the coal mine, blackened sky and desert floor below. Her objective was two-fold - locate and destroy any airborne threat and search for Lieutenant Nova and Sergeant Orion.
The female mercenary was middle-aged, as tough as platinum, and her speckled bluish-green eyes were the envy of the soldier-for-hire camp. She was an orphan child born into war's chaos and destruction. The female mercenary had survived inside refugee camps strung out along the North African Coastal Region under the jurisdiction of Africa Central Command. Her combat portfolio included wars, battles, and skirmishes fought intermittently across three decades of her life. Tonight was different from a hundred other nights on long-range reconnaissance patrol, she had given Mount Olympus her thirty-day notice and tonight was her last watch before her retirement.
While the Corporis of LAX scout-drone and armed wing-drone flew through the late-evening transition zone against a coal mine, colored sky; the female mercenary listened for an acoustic signature of drone-fan inside her blue-tooth headphones. She had one Sting Anti-Drone Missile slung over her shoulder and another positioned against the rocky-crag. The middle-aged female mercenary who possessed beautiful bluish-green eyes considered jewels of Addis Ababa, only had to survive her wake-up, before she could return home in the morning.
"Are we lost? Or what?" said Lieutenant Nova. She wasn't familiar with the landscape and driving at night was particularly painful without navigation aides.
"Base of the Atlas Mountains," said Sergeant Orion. "We're looking for Kasserine Pass." He folded his map into a square and traced a path through rocky hills, slashing gullies, and deep canyons. The rugged terrain reminded Sergeant Orion of his home. The kind of back country, Sergeant Orion loved as a teenager who lived in the Republic's Southwest Sector formerly: Arizona-New Mexico-Colorado.
"A.I. Minotaur is looking for us. You know what that means?" said Lieutenant Nova. She gripped her steering wheel until her knuckles and fingers were numb.
"Drones," said Sergeant Orion.
"You know what our survival rate is?" said Lieutenant Nova. She yawned and strectched her fingers.
YOU ARE READING
Dangerous Skies
Science FictionColonel Bill Butcher is a reluctant hero, but he is given a second chance by the Republic's Joint Chiefs of Staff. He takes command of the Special Unit: Odin's Spear. In a secret deal, he enters into an agreement with the ambitious corporate executi...
