DAY TWENTYEIGHT 11:11AM

Swift Chalet

"It's empty, sir," Simon's earpiece squawked. "There's no one here." 

"Okay, let's go," Simon ordered. His voice showed displeasure, not at only finding nothing, but that maybe just maybe someone was playing games with him.

The strike team's orders seemed to be on the level. When they got here there was nothing though, no sign of any inhabitants. The intelligence was wrong. 

Simon picked up a stone and chucked it onto the lake. This was the third sweep of the chalet. It had been abandoned and looked like it hadn't been used since the fall.

"Intelligence my ass," Sedara said; he too was disappointed. He wanted to kick some terrorist ass. 

As the men returned to the chopper, Simon gave one last look around and then the black bird took off into the morning air.