Static crackled through the communicator for several long seconds.
The handler frowned as he listened carefully, trying to separate the sounds bleeding through the interference.
Yelling. Gunfire. Someone screaming.
Then a tremendous explosion that momentarily overwhelmed the channel before dissolving back into harsh white noise.
He couldn't piece together what was happening, and somehow that uncertainty felt worse than hearing bad news outright.
His eyes darted toward the old wristwatch strapped beneath his sleeve.
He clicked his tongue.
"Two minute..."
That was all they had left.
He quickly raised the binoculars again and looked beyond the excavation site. The cloud of dust he'd spotted earlier had grown considerably larger, the convoy now close enough that he could make out multiple vehicles racing over the uneven terrain.
His expression darkened.
"Brother..." he spoke into the comm. "If you hear me... we need leave now."
No response.
"...Dammit."
