Dressed in sterile dark-charcoal Nomex cold-weather drysuits, Level IV boron-carbide plate carriers, and Ops-Core ballistic helmets with four-tube panoramic night-vision brackets folded onto their foreheads…
Poured twelve operators from the United States Navy Special Warfare Development Group (DEVGRU Red Squadron)!
Across their chests hung suppressed SIG Sauer MCX Rattlers, their PEQ-15 infrared lasers cutting through the nitrogen vapor in twelve razor-sharp needles of incandescent crimson light!
“FEDERAL INQUEST! CORDON ESTABLISHED! DROP YOUR WEAPONS FLAT ON THE DECK! KILL THE DRILLS!”
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Eight crimson laser dots locked dead-center onto Arthur Sterling-Vance’s vicuña greatcoat!
Two locked onto the drill operator’s hands!
Two locked onto Vivian Cross where she cowered in the mud!
The eight Apex contractors didn't even attempt to clear their holsters. Private mercenaries understand the mathematical terminality of an active special warfare assault stack. They immediately released their weapon slings, dropped their carbines onto the wet tarmac, and threw themselves flat onto their stomachs with their fingers laced behind their heads:
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