2296 UNPC universal calendar.
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Sliding down the rope, C7 and B2 behind him, hitting the ground, A9 stepped out of the way just before C7 landed on his head.
A9 crouched, pulling security as B2's feet hit the ground with a thump.
He stood up, and moved to the door of the target building.
He felt the tap on his shoulder, then stepped in front of the door.
He put his right size 14 extra wide boot into the middle of the door, knocking it clean off its hinges.
C7 and B2 rushed in right before it landed inside the room, and he followed.
A9's helmet automatically brightened the inside of the room, preventing him from being bright blind inside the house.
C7 eliminated a combatant with a subsonic tak of her suppressed MP7, and moved upstairs.
B2 gave the "clear" signal for the downstairs.
A9 was the first up the stairs, and was met by a single enemy, aiming an underfolder AK-pattern rifle at him.
The man hesitated, A9 didn't.
"Hesitation will get you killed" A9 thought, remembering an instructor telling him exactly that long ago.
"Clear" C7 and B2 said, coming out of their respective rooms, and stacking up on the door of the target room.
"This is where they'll be," A9 said to the two, rather superfluously.
"Be careful and double check you fire, this guy might be scum, but he's said to have a kid" A9 said.
The thought boomed through his head, he didn't want to risk collateral damage, yet at the same time, hesitation will get you killed
He watched C7 boot down the door, and he rushed inside.
C7's field of fire on entry meant that she was the first to make contact, heading left while A9 took the spearhead and B2 took right.
C7 eliminated a combatant, two shots center mass, one to the head.
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He saw her hesitate, her MP7's long olive-drab colored suppressor hanging in the air.
There was a man, their target, holding a toddler, maybe two or three against his chest.
He was pressing a pistol against the child's head.
The quarter second it took A9 to line up the shot he was about to take felt like an eon.
He pulled the trigger, the 3 pound weight feeling like three tons, and hit the man in the right shoulder, the 30-06 bullet from his V-06 grazing the man's bicep on its way by.
The man fell, screaming, and dropped the child and the pistol.
A9 moved quickly, scooping the child out of the air while C7 and B2 flex cuffed the man, screaming.
The child was shaken up and crying, but overall okay.
He made his way out of the house, child in his arms.
"What a fucking shitbag" A9 thought aloud through internal comms, the child not able to hear him, even though he doubted they could understand English.
The three walked up the ramp of the waiting Chinook helicopter, neither of them replied, but he knew they mirrored his sentiment.
They threw the man into the middle of the rectangular bay of the chinook, flex cuffed and a bag over his head.
C7 gestured for B2 while A9 removed his helmet and plopped it onto the crying child's head.
The kid appeared to like the shiny oddly light thing, mesmerized by the HUD, the little girl was oblivious to A9 buckling her into the comically large for her size canvas seat.
A9 turned, and stuck out a thumbs up to the copilot, who was looking over his shoulder at the group.
C7 and B2 had removed the man's flex cuffs, B2 holding his legs down while C7 held his undamaged arm.
A9 grabbed an epipen-like injector, full of sedative from a pouch on his chestplate.
He checked on the kid, who was excitedly swinging her legs, A9's ill-fitting helmet atop her head.
"Turn off the 360° cameras before she pukes" C7 said softly over team comms, the tone of her voice showing she was smiling.
He injected the sedative into the man's neck as he fingered his WMD, turning off the cameras, using a path in the menus he hadn't used in a long time.
His squirms got less and less vigorous, and quickly disappeared as he fell into a sedative induced sleep.
"Nighty-night shithead" A9 muttered.
For kicks, he pressed a few options in the menu on his WMD, and activated the thermal optics on his helmet.
A9 helped the other two stitch up the damage he'd done, and eventually sat him up against the side wall of the helicopter, on the left side of B2, flex cuffed in front, rather than behind as to not stress the sutures they'd done.
C7 took off her helmet, and B2 followed suit.
"What's the language they speak here again?" A9 asked.
"French and Arabic I think," C7 replied.
"Worth a try" A9 said, turning to the child. "What's your name?" he asked her in French, the helmet in her lap.
The child looked up at him perplexed.
"She doesn't speak a word" A9 said, looking back at C7.
"Here, let me try, '' B2 said, walking over to the child and crouching down, her knee pads thumping against the floor of the aircraft, audible just over the dull muffled whine of the chinook's engines.
"What's your name?" she asked in fluent Arabic.
"Amara," the child replied, that much Anton could understand.
"Since when do you speak Arabic?" A9 asked her, quizzically.
"I learned it on my own time about a year ago, forgot to tell you guys" B2 said, smiling.
The child returned to playing with A9's helmet, though B2 maintained a largely one sided conversation, smiling all the while, never growing frustrated.
A9 couldn't help but smile.
"Hopefully the UNPC will put her somewhere nice, and with loving parents." He thought.
I'll make sure of it