Ground Incursion

Five days stationary on the iron grate had pushed reconnaissance to its limit. Downward extraction was overdue. I unhooked my canvas tether, gripped the vertical rungs of the drop ladder, and descended systematically past three storeys of red brick. At the bottom rung, three feet above the alley floor, I dropped into a low combat crouch on the cracked asphalt. Heavy smell of damp stone and exhaust. Ahead stood an overturned plastic milk crate wedged beside a green dumpster, forming an ideal ground bunker. I advanced in silence, swept the perimeter for hostile movement, and claimed the shadowed recess beneath the crate. Ground-level operations initiated.