“Ready,” he replied.
The plan was simple. I would fly the drone in concentric circles, first around the fence and then moving inward, noting guard positions, movements, and weapons if possible. Thomas would input the data as I moved in, hopefully mapping out likely movement patterns so we could make it easier for Viggo and Owen to get in and out undetected. It was frustrating that we couldn’t send them the map directly, but the handhelds continued to have their limitations, one of which being that we couldn’t give them a live feed. We all knew it was a painstakingly slow process, but were also confident we could get the whole thing done in under an hour, two tops. If the drone was spotted, I would fly it out of there, and we would abort.
I began my circuit, announcing guards as I came across them. So far there were only four wardens walking the perimeter, but as I drew inward, I could see several more in what seemed to be stationary positions around the camp—all around the tents, all standing. The tents were tall enough to obscure some angles of approach from view of the stationary guards on the inside, but the initial approach would definitely be tight.
Rows and rows of tents filled the camera as I circled around them, so many it was difficult to count how many I had passed after a while. After some time flying in mind-numbing circles, with only my display readings to guide me, and Thomas to notify me of course corrections, I finally spotted the break that constituted the open space around the trailers in the center.
“Thomas, how many rows of tents are we up to?” I asked as I flew the drone around another line of them.
Thomas clicked something on, and I heard his chair squeak as he nodded. “Ten deep and ten wide. Each tent can hold two to four people, so… it’s possible there’s over three hundred men in the camp, and we could give or take a hundred or so.”
“There are no mass burial sites,” commented Ms. Dale, who was prowling the room behind us, closely watching the screens Thomas and I were working on. “Definitely no sign this is a death camp.”
What do you think it might be? Viggo articulated through the line. I had to admire his patience—he and Owen had been sitting on standby the entire time, still on the eroded car track in the forest, probably itching to move, but unable to start their stage of the mission until we had finished ours.
Ms. Dale pursed her lips and shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she admitted after a pause. “It’s a mystery—but I’m honestly considering letting go of it for the time being and sending you guys home. We presumed this was some sort of execution camp, and without any evidence of it, it’s making me reconsider what might be going on here. I’m questioning what kind of evidence we’ll find.”
I wanted to argue with her. There could be some sign of Tim in the camp! I bit the impulse back, recognizing my motivations were purely selfish. I had to trust Ms. Dale had our best interests in mind and not let my personal feelings get in the way of the mission. That would definitely give my team members justifiable cause to exclude me from future missions. I also knew acting recklessly now could put Owen and Viggo’s lives in danger, and I could not risk their lives, no matter how much I wanted to know about my brother.
Why don’t you let Violet use thermal scanning on the trailers first? Owen suggested. That way we’ll have a better idea how many guards there are, and whether it’s worth taking the risk. I smiled, silently cheering him on.
Let’s also not forget that any information they have on the computers there is worth the risk, added Viggo. I would find it hard to believe if they had three hundred men in the camp and no filing system.
Ms. Dale released a heavy sigh and nodded at me. I didn’t need to be told twice. I flew the drone over to the trailers using the low-light vision, then clicked over to the thermal scanner. Immediately, the picture changed to a complex, mottled image of black, blues, and purples, a few yellows and greens in between.
On the screen, the trailer beneath the drone showed a very dark blue, indicating a low level of heat next to the cold, black outside around it. I carefully piloted the drone over the top, noting the hotter, brighter bodies inside. This trailer had four individuals inside, their bodies glowing a complex, almost beautiful mosaic of blue, green, and yellow that phased to orange, just a bit of red, at the centers. Unlike the other trailer, I could make out individual limbs that indicated they were lying down, but beyond that, they weren’t moving.
“Southwest trailer has four bodies inside, not moving. Possible sleeping quarters,” I informed everyone. I piloted to the next one and repeated the procedure—this one had only two people inside. On the third trailer, I paused as I took in the three people in the box, painstakingly pushing my mic’s off button with my right hand so I could conference with Ms. Dale and Thomas without bothering Owen and Viggo.