Falling

Prologue: South Atlantic 04:30

The blackest of nights hid their actions. The mission had always been planned for tonight, only the storm just made sure they wouldn't be observed. June in the South Atlantic was the worst time of the year for sailing, but for military missions, the cover it provided was invaluable.

As the three container ships had recently docked at Port Stanley, no further military over watch had been required. They had all sent their crews ashore, and allowed the Falklands customs teams to search the ships. Then after a few days rest, continued on their fake journey to Argentina.

The storm had appeared from nowhere. This type of weather wasn't unusual here, but its ferocity had still been quite surprising.

The three ships had anchored just off the coast of the West Falklands and reported their positions to the British Military stationed there. This allowed them to hide from the heavy seas of the South Atlantic, but also to make the final preparations.

Each ship was a hive of activity. On the decks large containers were split open, their sides dropping down, and black, evil looking helicopters were revealed. Inside the bowels of the ships, hundreds of previously concealed soldiers were freed from their own containers. Weapons were collected and armed, body armour was put on. No insignia was present, just the same matt black utilities, and weapons. Grenades, explosives and pistols were packed into their individual webbing. No food was issued, the plan called for a quick assault, so none should be needed.

An observer would have heard many different accents, as soldiers from around the world prepared themselves for the upcoming battle.

On the deck the helicopter's started their engines. Armoured vehicles were driven up from the lower decks, and soldiers started to fill them. Eight wheel personnel carriers were quickly attached to large hooks and then slung beneath the helicopters. They were then lifted quickly into the night, and more appeared to take their place.

Just above sea level, more armoured cars, fully loaded with fighting men, drove through holes in the ships sides and dropped straight into the heaving sea, their powerful engines immediately fighting the strong currents, and white tipped waves.

In all over a thousand soldiers disembarked into the night. The helicopters carried the cars, deposited them on the distant shore, and then returned to the ships. The amphibious troop carriers fought their way through the surf, and eventually cleared the beaches. Finally, the troops had reached their designated rally points, and the journey to the target could begin.

The two separate groups of armoured vehicles had travelled through the night, and now were within a half mile of the target compound. Through the vehicle mounted low light cameras, the outside fence could be seen.

Soldiers moved slowly within the perimeter, guarding the outer fence, and tall observation towers stood in each corner. Several buildings stood within the centre of the base, their windows lit brightly, floodlights mounted on their corners turning the base from night to day. On the darkened moor, black clad invaders left the fighting vehicles, and crept slowly to within shouting distance of the target. Every soldier waited for the signal to advance.

A quarter of a mile away, four intruders approached a small unlit building. The darkness covered their approach, and the howling wind hid any noise they may have made.

The four men split up, and stood on either side of the single doorway. One of them crept forward, his weapon held out in front of him, and placed five small white charges onto the door. The other soldiers were all crouched down, scanning the approaches to the building. When the soldier with the explosives had retreated from the door, and joined them, one of the men waved his arm quickly. The four individually raised their own arms, the signal for all clear, and the door exploded into a thousand pieces.