PART 5: Into the Miller Creek Shadows
PART 5: Into the Miller Creek Shadows
Armored vehicles pierce dense midnight forests.
The convoy of black armored SUVs carved through the winding, mud-slicked mountain roads like a pack of wolves hunting in the dark.
Heavy rain lashed against the reinforced windshields, turning the dense pine forests on either side of the highway into a blur of black shadows and swaying branches.
In the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, Harrison sat in absolute silence, his eyes fixed on the digital tactical map glowing on the dashboard screen.
The Miller Creek logging camp was little more than a collection of rotting timber shacks and rusted industrial machinery abandoned twenty years ago during the economic collapse of the timber trade.
It was a ghost town.
A perfect place to hide a man the world had already forgotten.
“Approaching the perimeter in two minutes, boss,” Vance reported from the driver’s seat, his hands steady on the steering wheel. “Cutting headlights now. We go in dark.”
The dashboard lights clicked off.
The heavy SUVs rolled forward on electric drive, their massive all-terrain tires whispering silently over the wet pine needles as they turned off the main access road and crept down the overgrown logging trail.
Through the pouring rain, a faint, sickly yellow light flickered through the trees ahead.
The main cabin.
A ramshackle wooden structure with cracked windows and a rusted tin roof, surrounded by discarded oil drums and an old, dented pickup truck parked haphazardly by the door.
“Thermal imaging confirms two targets inside the main room, one target secured in the rear storage root-cellar,” Vance whispered into his headset, relaying data to the trailing vehicles. “Two rovers patrolling the exterior perimeter with flashlights.”
Harrison unbuckled his seatbelt, pulled a heavy tactical vest over his dress shirt, and checked the magazine of the sidearm Vance handed him.
“Remember,” Harrison instructed the team quietly as the SUVs came to a smooth, silent halt behind a thick row of fir trees. “Scott and his wife are the primary assets. Do not engage unless fired upon. Secure the perimeter fast.”
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The doors clicked open.
The rain swallowed the sound entirely as ten elite operatives fanned out into the dark woods like ghosts, moving toward the glowing cabin with terrifying, practiced precision.
