She had no doubt he was invisible when tailing an espionage suspect through the urban jungle of DC, blending seamlessly into Metro station crowds and drawing no suspicion on the streets. But none of those skills seemed to transfer over to sneaking through a pitch-dark forest—even with night vision. The little mental energy Marnie had to spare beyond herself had been focused on the slew of noises Devin made, and whether that might require her to seek cover immediately.
The team clearly felt the same strain. Rich had halted the group at least eight times after Devin stumbled, scraped a tree, ran into a low-hanging branch, or tripped over a root. She was relieved they had almost reached the bottom edge of the northeast cabin wing, even though that meant the start of an infinitely more dangerous phase of the mission. Part of her wanted to suggest that Devin stay at the first set of cabins, to provide rear security. Any excuse to keep him from giving up the team’s position as they infiltrated deeper into the camp.
She glanced in his direction, catching him stopped in front of a branch, trying to find it with his hand. Once his hand brushed across it, he ducked and continued forward. At least he was learning. The night vision goggles played havoc with a person’s depth perception, particularly at short distances. It took some getting used to. Marnie probably knew this better than anyone here, since she had flown entire missions at night, relying on night vision goggles. With little margin for error when landing in tight spots, she had mastered the complexities of night vision rather quickly. The lives of her crew and the Marines she transported had depended on it.
The forward element of the team reached the first set of three cabins a few minutes later, Rich halting the rest of the group in the forest. They waited while Emily, Alex, and Scott each took positions behind one of the cabins and used binoculars to peer into the camp.
“This is Scott. Overall, we’re looking at three fairly even rows of very evenly spaced cabins. I see what looks like a longer cabin in the middle row, about five cabins down. Probably a bathhouse. A straight, ten-foot-wide dirt trail runs from here all the way to the center of the X. I can vaguely see a few of the buildings in the center of the camp from here. The third row of cabins, next to Emily, is connected to the main trail by a dirt path. The cabins look abandoned and neglected, but not completely ignored. I see evidence of weed whacking along the perimeter of the cabins. Alex?”
“Hold on,” said Rich. “Can you count the number of cabins in each row?”
“Stand by,” said Scott.
Rich turned and signaled for the rear team to move forward. He gathered them in a loose huddle when they arrived.
“Definitely bigger than your mother’s numbers suggested,” said Rich. “I’m conflicted about how to proceed. Part of me says we go back the way we came and try to pitch this to the FBI using some of Karl’s contacts and mine. I have the ear of a US senator that should be able to help. But that approach is like a long, slow-moving train. Once it gets going, it’ll be hard to stop, but getting it moving at all is the big trick. And getting it up to speed will give this circus all the time it needs to pull up its tent stakes and flee town. By the time the FBI finally checks this place out, Stalin’s traveling sleeper carnival will be long gone.”
“What’s the faster-moving option?” asked Devin.
“I don’t know if there is one,” said Rich, “other than document the shit out of this place and try to identify some of the campers.”
“We could grab a few,” said Jared.
“I don’t think that’ll strengthen our case with the FBI,” said Rich. “I think our best play is to get as close as possible and take photographs of the campers, the buildings—everything. I’m starting to think we might spend more time here than I had originally planned. I’d really like to get into a few of those buildings and steal some of their training material. Take pictures while some of the campers are still awake. Attempt a breakin around two or three in the morning?”
“Whatever it takes,” said Devin, everyone else mumbling agreement.
“How long do we have drone coverage?” asked Marnie.
“The drone’s enhanced surveillance package puts it at the higher end of the model’s takeoff weight range, which taxes the battery,” said Rich. “Normally I’d say we had two hours, but the gliding might buy us more time.”
Rich activated his radio. “OVERWATCH. How long can you keep the drone up? We’re thinking about extending our stay.”