DAMIEN WYNTER CLENCHED and unclenched his hands and flexed his fingers. Despite his gloves, the damp cold of late October was making them stiff. Clouds passed over the darkened sky. Lights from the city of almost four hundred thousand reflected off the clouds. He peered across the alley at a non-descript concrete block warehouse in an industrial area of the city. Wynter scanned the building with a thermal-sensitive FLIR camera. There were eight people on the main floor and two more in an office upstairs. He flashed numeral signals with his hand to Scott Gibson who was hunched next to him. Gibson nodded, confirming the earlier intel they’d received.
Both men were wearing black fatigues and Kevlar combat gear. Baklavas covered their faces except for their eyes. They were armed along with three others in the team with the new Sig Sauer NGSW-AR light machine gun. Wynter and the team also had a Colt .45 Socom automatic with silencers as their sidearms.
Another dark figure came forward. He showed them his wristwatch and tapped it.
The team, while wearing comms, were going silent.
Wynter turned and nodded to Sergeant Rodney Smith who was part of a special Blackhawk unit out of Area 51 that worked with Wynter’s organization. While the United States government usually uses SOCOM or Navy Seal teams, this operation called for more finesse, and a totally deniable team. The tech they assumed they would find, was beyond anyone with military security clearance.
The operation was to shut down the ransomware site across the street and gather the hard drives, then use a special EMP3 grenade to destroy the operations. Deaths were to be kept to a minimum unless there was heavy resistance. On the street level was a second van with another team to engage and disarm any potential threat or to nullify an alarm to go out. The team was equipped with flashbangs to disorient the hackers and security people upon entry.
Wynter nodded. He turned to SPC Cora Gates, a dark-haired blue-eyed member of the Blackhawk team and gave a thumbs up. Gates removed a REBS compact launcher from her back and aimed it at the roof across the street and a story below. The grappling hook would embed into the roof below and allow the team to access the roof of the building. A skylight would give them access to the floor below and the two men in it.
Wynter nodded to Nash, the third Blackhawk member used a black flashlight to signal the team to get into position. Scott signalled the team below to get ready to breach.
The hook was fired and secured itself. One by one, beginning with Wynter the team slid across and down the thick steel wire to the roof of the warehouse across the road. Looking down, Wynter saw the second assault team of four in the shadows of the warehouse by the entrance. Across the street was the dark-coloured van they’d used with portable surveillance equipment.
When the team had reassembled on the rooftop, Gates detached the grappling hook and walked softly to the skylight. She crouched next to Wynter who looked down through the skylight. Two men were seated, one behind a desk, the other opposite. The man behind the desk was light-skinned with thick black hair and a trim beard. He might have been thirty. He was wearing black jeans, black t-shirt, and a brown suede jacket. Wynter checked his phone. There was a saved picture. He looked at it, then again at the man behind the desk. He was definitely their target- Lev Koslenko. According to files, while pretending to be a freelance hacker, Koslenko was in fact a member of Russian intelligence. His father was one of the oligarchs that Putin hadn’t killed yet because he didn’t protest the war with Ukraine, which was also why it had been easier to breach the facility. With Belarus troops lined up at the Ukrainian border, it meant security was lax elsewhere. The man opposite was tall with a dark complexion. His long legs spread out in front of him as he leaned back on the chair. He wore jeans, Doc Marten boots, and a black hoodie. Outside of the hoodie he wore a shoulder holster with what looked like a 9mm automatic, probably a Glock. A knife hung off his wide leather belt. Obviously, a bodyguard, though Wynter couldn’t identify him. Koslenko had his laptop open and was looking at the screen.
Nash and Gates hooked up the repelling ropes and got ready to deploy.
Wynter nodded. The team checked their watches. Taking a risk, he broke comm silence. “We’re here and ready to engage. Take the main hard drives and ensure the computers are destroyed. Return fire only if necessary.” He turned and nodded to Cora. And held up his fingers, counting down three.
Quietly Scott and Smith lifted the skylight window. Cora hurled a flashbang down. It exploded. Dazzling light and smoke shot up. They heard the two men yell.
