Commander Fitzsimmons muttered as he studied the base from his seat in the black SUV. They were parked on a hill about a half-mile from the enemy base, and the Commander had dragged Harley out into the cold so they could study the terrain together. Not that Harley was complaining. For Jocelyne, he’d walk through the fires of hell themselves if it meant ensuring her safety. “Yeah,” Harley agreed, peering at the base through his own binoculars. He counted six men patrolling the electric fence, and another six at various places on the grounds and atop the building. No doubt there were more inside, even though he and Jocelyne had taken out a dozen or so on their way out. “No idea how the hell we managed to escape the place.” “Dumb luck can get you pretty far,” the Commander said. “But we’re not going to be relying on it for this mission. Not when it comes to the safety of my daughter.” The two of them climbed back into the armored SUV, which was one of ten vehicles the Commander had brought along, loaded with shifter soldiers.
