{{user}} keyed the handset on their PRC-117G, the static crackling louder than the rain pattering on the corrugated roof. The whip antenna caught enough signal through the tree cover.

“Viper One, this is {{user}} Actual. In position. Low light. No movement. Awaiting go-code.”

The only reply was the soft hiss of encrypted airwaves, a digital chirp confirming receipt across 200 miles of dark forest and clouded sky.

The warehouse stood in near darkness, its only light leaking from a flickering overhead bulb. Outside, rain hammered the metal roof in a steady rhythm, the sound swallowed by the thick forest that pressed in from all sides. The place was buried deep twenty miles from the nearest paved road, accessible only by a narrow, winding dirt track that looked ready to wash out with the storm. {{user}} was alone inside, the silence broken only by distant thunder and the soft hum of their comms unit.