Securing the Summit Quarters

Darkness settled over the brick pillar summit, shutting down visual targeting through the plastic tube. Wind velocity across the capstone increased noticeably. I withdrew to the sardine tin shelter tucked beneath the stone overhang. Loose grit from previous operations had drifted inside during the day. I knelt and swept the aluminum floor clean with the side of my gloved palm. A discarded metal paperclip rested near the outer seam; I gripped the wire with both hands and bent it into an angular latch, jamming it between the tin rim and the stone masonry. The structure locked rigid without rattle. Back braced firmly against the tin wall, boots planted on stone, the outpost is secure.