The night was dead silent except for the low, muffled thump of the helicopter blades fading into the distance. The figure landed in a crouch, knees absorbing the shock as his boots hit the cracked asphalt. His rifle was already raised, eyes scanning through the visor's dim-blue night vision.
"Contact with the ground," he murmured into his throat mic, voice low but firm. "I see a lot of infected from the warded-off area crowding this side… the fences might not last very long."
Static crackled before a voice came through. "Got you, Alpha One. Make contact with our agent as silently as possible and leave the area immediately."
"Roger that," he whispered.
