The combined teams kept their pistols drawn as they rode back down the countryside lanes. The possibility of encountering their foes was minimal, but after what had happened over the past twenty minutes, Alter was fed up with being caught out. As if to compound his frustrations, they rounded one of the many forest-skirting corners and came face to face with a riderless horse which was charging towards them down the centre of the road. Were it not for the rapid reaction speed and honed focus of Tarikell, who jinked out of its path just in time, there would’ve been an equine head-on collision which would’ve sent him sailing in much the same way as the condemned rider in the field. After his stomach had recovered from the sudden lurch, he twisted around and was relieved to see the panicked horse find a gap between the others and pass through their formation without further incident.
“Whew. How about this traffic, huh?” Riptide called out with a nervous laugh as he too looked behind him.
“Gunfire at the farm must’ve scared him to death, poor thing. At least he’ll survive this. Probably.” Boozehound shouted back.
“Keep your attention forward, we’re almost there.” Alter ordered, and the team pressed on.
Yellowood Farm was eerily quiet when they arrived back upon the scene. A strange, mid-battle stillness punctuated only by the distant mooing of the cows in the far pastures. The main gates hung open, the gusting wind causing one of the wooden barriers to slowly swing forward and backward, its hinges emitting a slow, ominous screech. Two more horses were tied to a post just inside the fence, and while their eyes were wide with fright, they had not yet mustered the desperate strength to break loose and flee. The solitary body of the worker Red lay crumpled on the front steps of the smaller house, their attempt to twist themselves around and beat a hasty retreat having proven ineffective. Alter eyed the house where their enemies cowered at first, but it was the larger property a little further away that displayed movement. A pale lace curtain in an upstairs window twitched and fell as whoever had been peering at them recoiled at their arrival. He frowned, none of the other teams had reported a target entering the farmer’s home, and the man himself had been the only one they’d seen enter or exit in their observations to date. A small puzzle for later, perhaps.
“Eyes on Teams One and Two. We’re at your two o’clock in the treeline, scope is clear.” Walross reported as they brought the horses to a halt just outside of the farmyard.
Alter glanced in that direction and after a moment of scrutinising he spotted Team Three set up in a position quite close to where they had been at the start of this uncontained situation. He gave them a quick wave, which was reciprocated, before he swung his legs out of the saddle and thudded to the floor. Once he’d heard the report of three other sets of boots striking dirt, he unslung his rifle from his back and began to pace slowly through the gate.
“Alright, here’s the situation.” He began as the others fell into formation behind him. “We’re down to four targets remaining, these are three of the undercover workers, and one rider presumed to be the leader. This leader and one of the workers are in the target house. The other two are currently at large and under the pursuit of Team Four, who have reported their trail vacating the area, so our flanks should be secure. Target house only has one door, so unless anyone’s gone diving out a back window and somehow managed to keep perfectly out of Team Three’s line of sight, they’re trapped in there. Standard enter and clear, rider is to be kept alive, worker expendable if necessary. Clear?”
His three teammates all gave their confirmations as he led them on a curving path that took them to the corner of the house. There he paused, raised his weapon to a ready position, and gave the signal to remove safeties. Once all four clicks had been registered, he began the process of edging along the wall towards the door, his eyes glued to the rifle sights. Reaching the door without incident, he gave another hand signal, causing Riptide and Boats to silently move past him and take the other side. Riptide and himself faced the door, with Boozehound and Boats covering the opposite directions. At his nod, Riptide gently reached forwards and began slowly twisting the doorhandle, however he quickly shook his head and shifted back.
“Locked.” He whispered.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Figures,” Alter murmured in response. “Ideas?”
“The kitchen window is open, and it's big enough to climb through.” Boats reported.
Alter considered the possibility and nodded. “Good enough for me. Six, has there been any movement in the kitchen window since you took up position?” He whispered into the radio as the team began to creep towards the indicated opening.
“Negative, all the movement we’ve seen has been upstairs.” Walross reported back.
“Confirmed. Same drill, gents.”
With an agonising squeak, the twin windows of the kitchen were pulled outwards. The team waited breathlessly for a reaction but none was forthcoming. Alter gave Riptide the nod and his lieutenant stowed his rifle and began the awkward process of climbing through the gap. Once in, he unfurled himself, re-readied his weapon and stepped carefully out of the way to allow the next man to follow. One by one, the team hauled their way inside, besides the inadvertent clatter of their chosen method of entry the house was quiet. The kitchen itself was pleasantly picturesque, with three earthenware mugs of dark brown liquid still on the central table, along with a wicker bowl filled with fresh fruits. Two doors at either end of the room lay in different states of ajar. One was quickly discovered to be a well-stocked pantry, leaving them with a solo path of progress. At least someone had had the idea of keeping the hinges of the interior doors well oiled, as the second glided silently open at the softest touch. A short hallway was revealed, only five paces long, with an open entryway at the far end, and a steep and narrow staircase crammed into one side. The team paused as noises from above were heard, the gentle thuds of shifting feet from somewhere behind them, followed by a much louder bang of something heavy hitting the floor. Trusting that his teammates would efficiently take care of anyone that came rushing down towards them, Alter closed his eyes and listened intently. There, a hushed, urgent voice, barely audible, came from the same direction and was quickly followed by another. He smiled, and held up two fingers before pointing to the staircase. A quick look through the open entryway confirmed that the ground floor was clear, and so the glacially careful ascent began.
“What are you doing?” One of the voices whispered.
“Shut up and help me with this.” The other responded angrily.
“You're trapping us in here.” The first complained, but the sound of footsteps and another colossal thud followed.
“I know, I know, but listen. Those men out there? They’re deadly, you’ve seen what happened to Wesley the moment he poked his head out. They’ll blow your head off with those weird, banging things before you even know where they are. No, we barricade ourselves in here and wait for reinforcements to arrive. My men will come and push them back, don’t worry, we just need to stay calm.” The leader rambled as they dragged something towards a door close to the top of the stairs.
The unsuspecting men heaved and grunted as something large was pushed against the far side of the door just as Alter and the team made it to the top and fanned out across the equally small landing.
“Argh, we should’ve grabbed that girl the farmer has in his dump.” The worker complained. “A hostage would come in real useful right now.”
“Have some pride.” The leader hissed in return. “I don’t care how desperate the situation is, we don’t do that crap.”
Alter exchanged a shrug with the others as the worker began to complain once more before he loudly cleared his throat. The hiding men fell deathly silent.
“Gentlemen.” Alter began. “You are discovered and surrounded. The men you sent for reinforcements have all been intercepted and eliminated. You are alone. Don’t sacrifice your lives for no good reason. Surrender. I give you my word you will not be harmed.”
He was not surprised to receive no response to his declaration. Although, the faint, despairing whisper of the worker could be heard repeating ‘what do we do?’ as a set of feet backed awkwardly away.
“Are you going to acknowledge my request? Or do I have to demonstrate to you how utterly futile your little barricade is?” Alter demanded, though he was fully aware that backing up this threat meant laying an explosive charge on the door and hoping for the best.
There was a growl of frustration, followed by the slamming of a fist into whatever had been pushed against the door.
“Alright, fine!” The leader said angrily. “But remember that you’ve given your word not to hurt us.” He spat the syllables out with enough venom and spite to cause Alter to shift backwards slightly. But shortly after the sound of him wrestling the blockade away could be heard, and the door began to creep open.

