They had a large barge with a radio antenna tower on it, that they would charge up and discharge. It was floating down the marshy river, the men in suits with their gas masks standing on the side keeping watch, moonlight framing the silhouette of the tower rising behind them.

We crept down among the reeds on the bank, making not a splash, clutching our guns. Everyone’s eyes were wide as moons.

We opened fire at the edge of the swampy muck of the bank. They were caught off guard.

Gunfire blazed in the night, crackling loudly in the silence. Before long the cries of our men joined, while they made not a sound when they caught a bullet.

We pushed out to the barge. We threw up ropes attached to grapples and climbed, more as more of us reached the rusted hulk. The last of them fell and someone set the charges. We quickly leaped back into the water, swimming and then wading to shore, fading back into the cattails.

I turned and watched the plume of fire go up, heard the roar of the explosion.