Zweitelinie Base was fifteen miles into Iron Legion controlled Gaul surrounded by smaller fortifications spread out along the front. On the border itself, ground legions and anti-aircraft guns made certain that Allied tanks, infantry, vehicles, or planes would not make much headway into enemy territory. Lack of activity had made the Iron Legion troopers here complacent. Except for the transport heading out in the morning, there had been little of note to keep their attention, otherwise they might have seen the barely noticeable shape streaking across the sky. Something far too small and flying too low to be a plane. For all they knew, it might have been a shooting star. But it wasn't... The moment his feet touched ground and he was sure he was alone, Ian Skyhawke shed his helmet and shrugged out of the straps of his jetpack. It was too bulky to take into the camp if he wanted to be stealthy. It had been determined early in the war that jetpacks weren't effective in combat - they left the pilot far too vulnerable in a dogfight, standard operation was chancy at best, and the training required to effectively pilot the device was better spent on larger, more powerful warplanes. After all, who in their right mind would willingly strap what was basically a live jet engine to their backs and take off for the skies, nigh unprotected? No one ever said Ian Skyhawke was completely in his right mind. That was part of what made him so effective. He grabbed a small tab on his belt buckle and pulled out a small knob attached to a wire and whispered into it. "Hawk to nest, do you read me, over?" There was a crackle of static, and then he heard the female voice of his mechanic over the tiny speaker in his radio. "This is nest. I read you Hawk. What's your situation, over?" Ian smiled to himself. Mickey was always reliable, whether it was fixing up his pack or helping him pull himself out of a tight spot. Hopefully he wouldn't need either of those skills of hers tonight. "Hawk has landed," he responded. "I have spotted the prey, over. " "Want Nest to leave its ears on, Cap? Over?" Ian thought a moment. "Affirmative Nest. No transmitting, just eavesdrop in case I need a quick hand. Over." "Understood. Good luck Cap. Nest out." Ian retracted the mic into the belt but didn't turn it off. It tended to run the batteries down pretty fast, but it saved time if he needed a miracle. Just in case things went wrong. He crept quietly up to the edge of the treeline pausing only to hide his helmet and pack among the leaves and forest debris, watching the almost rhythmic patterns of the Iron Legion guards and spotlights patrolling the base perimeter. As he suspected, they were lax this far in enemy territory, overconfident and bored. Ian had already spotted two good openings in their pattern in the short time before he'd even finished hiding his gear. With practiced ease, he darted to the edge of the fence line, dodging the sweeping pattern of the spotlights as he moved forward. A few quick snips with the compact wire cutters Mickey had modified for him and he ducked through a slit in the chainlink, slipping behind a rubbish bin just before the patrol passed by. So far so good, he thought, now... if I were an important set of documents, which building would I be in..? It was a small base, there weren't many buildings to chose from. As he crouched in the dark, he mentally checked off each building as he identified it. Lessee... Barracks.... Armory... Hanger... Motorpool... some kind of office... Office... hmmm... TO BE CONTINUED...