“I think we made a wrong turn somewhere. It doesn’t feel right.” Friar had confidence in his team, but he was an expert at planning missions. This one was unlike their others, they were simply tasked with completing it. Friar and his team had no part in the planning.

“This is where the GPS took us. We will be coming to a town in a few miles.” Smith was a skilled driver and he knew roads. He was especially questioning the route that was preprogrammed into the GPS that was hardwired into the truck.

As they entered the quaint town they saw normal life carrying on as if the struggles of the world had not reached it. It was a storybook Sunday. Families leaving church and traveling to and from relatives houses for lunch. Elderly couples leaving the market with their weekly groceries. Unfortunately real life isn’t a storybook. “Contact left!” Chris and Ed yelled simultaneously. Everyone tried to regain their bearing as Smith attempted to get the truck back under control. A rocket blast to the left side had nearly toppled them. Fortunately the armor withstood the impact and loosing only a few fragments off on the road.

“Sir, we have a road block ahead.”

“Thomas reroute that GPS to the nearest military installation.” Thomas was already trying to give Smith guidance around the road block.

“Problem. GPS is locked. I can’t do anything with it.”

“Then manually navigate. Just get us out-” Friar was interrupted by the sound of a burst of air as the left driver side tire blew. A piece of shrapnel had dug into the wheel.

Smith immediately let off the gas and again attempted to gain control of the truck. This time he was not able to and it flipped skidding on its roof for a good city block. When the truck came to a stop everyone began to egress the vehicle and establish a perimeter around it.

Friar climbed out and hooked a cannister to his tactical vest. “I have the package. Lets move to that antique shop two stores ahead on the left. Set up a defense and I’ll make the call for support.” In one abrupt motion they formed up and moved tactically to the antique shop.

Chris and Thomas went to the back and secured the one back door that led into an ally. The ally separated the store buildings from the back yards of a neighborhood. Ed and Smith began stacking furniture in front of the store front windows. Friar took the owner and went to an office on the side to use the phone.

Friar pulled a card from his left breast pocket. He scratched away the gray material covering a phone number. Panic and frustration flooded in when the machine on the other end answered. If you need a delivery press one. If you need a pickup press two. If you need specified assistance press three. Friar groaned and pressed three.

“Status!” Friar yelled peaking out of the office. “Clear!” All members replied from their defensive positions.

“Field number and status.” Came a stern voice through the phone. “4-2-2-3, compromised.”

“4-2-2-3 what is your location and time compromised?” The voice was still stern and direct.

“Uh, Barley Indiana. Time from point of compromise five minutes. In need of immediate support and evac. Hostiles are well equipped and have unknown numbers.”

“Are you in a stable position currently?”

“Yes.”

“Support is thirty minutes out.” The phone line went completely dead.

Friar handed the cannister from his vest to the store owner. “Sir I need you to get under your desk and stay there until I or one of my team members comes to get you.” The owner nodded in understanding and did as instructed.

Friar went to the front and began looking through the spaces in between the furniture. “Sir, we have two on the roofs across the street. Two are in between the buildings on the right. One we believe covering the back and another was searching our truck.” Friar confirmed this with his own eyes as Ed gave the update. “They are too well equipped and organized. Definitely pros.” Friar had been in this job long enough to determine who was serious about their plans and who thought they could get some attention.