Page 98 of Lash

It does look much higher and steeper from here.

She rolls her shoulders and exhales. "Alright, well, nothing for it but to get after it."

We're at the rear of the property, with the lights a dim yellow glow far above us. The sound of a radio crackling reaches us, and then a voice, too faint and muffled to make out—I hear it on my radio, though.

"They're trying to contact the patrols," I say into the mic. "We're beginning our ascent."

"Copy that," Solomon says. "Wait for us to start shooting and then start up."

"Roger," I answer.

"Overwatch, pick a target and when you hear us start shooting, take your shot, and then fire at will," Solomon says over the radio.

"Okay," Tatiana answers. "Um, roger. Should I say roger or copy?"

Solomon’s voice is amused. “It doesn’t matter as long as you acknowledge somehow. We just use the terms we’re familiar with.”

"Okay," She says, and leaves it at that.

A few seconds later, I hear a three-round burst and a faint cry of pain. That first burst sets off a barrage as the crew unleashes hell from across the ravine. The return fire is immediate and heavy, with overlapping silences as our side finds new positions to make it seem like there are more of us than there are.

CRACK!Tatiana's rifle speaks, a loud, sharp report layering over the chatter of the automatics.

"Overwatch, call out your kills," Solomon commands. "Just say confirmed kill or something like that."

"Okay," she murmurs into the radio.CRACK!"Confirmed kill. My first was a kill also."

"Two for two," Scarlett remarks to me. “Not bad."

"Ascending," I say into the radio. "I hope she remembers to change locations." The last part was just to Scarlett.

We begin our grueling climb. The grade is only a few degrees off vertical, so we have to pull ourselves up by branches and bushes, some of which come loose as we pull, necessitating a scramble to keep from toppling backward.

CRACK! "Three," Tatiana says.

More automatic fire. Chatter crackles from our comms as the team coordinates movement. Panicked chatter swarms the enemy comms—they have no idea how many there are, and the chatter is mostly concerned with trying to locate the sniper.

"You are doing excellent work, overwatch,” I say. "They are afraid of you."

"I've got four tangos making a break for the bridge,” Rev says. "Overwatch, take them out, and fast." I worry that they’re expecting too much from Tatiana.

I can just barely see the far side of the bridge from my location, and I pause to watch. I see four figures sprinting, stopping, and sprinting down the length of the bridge.

CRACK!…CRACK!…CRACK!…CRACK!

"Four confirmed,” Tatiana says.

The four figures are now slumped on the bridge in a line.

"Damn, girl," Chance says. “That was some stellar fuckin' shooting.”

"I suppose I should be grateful my father insisted I shoot every week," she answers. "I never in a million years thought I would be doing this."

Scarlett and I are only halfway up. She taps me. "We gotta move. Eventually, someone is gonna get across that bridge."

"You are correct," I answer. "We must double time it."

Up is much, much harder than down. My lungs burn and my legs ache, and my hands and forearms sting with a crisscross of scratches. There is nothing else to do, however, but keep going. The whole plan relies on us, so we must simply grit through it.