Press of a Button

It was a simple instruction. Wait for the red light, and then press the button. Not complicated. Not difficult – at least, not in principle. It was the rest of the orders that made it harder. Wait for the red light, and then press the button and under no circumstances go in after the team – Scott’s role was to be sure that there was somebody to press the button because, if he weren’t, the rest of the work done by the team might be for naught.

And so, now, he lay in wait in a building across from the target, looking through his scope at a machine though a window with a steadily blinking green light. Ten minutes ago, the remainder of Scott’s team had gone into the building and, according to the plan, should be finished and safe by now. The job should be done – Scott should have been able to press the button.

Blink. Blink. Blink. The green light taunted him.

Scott wanted to check the other windows, to see if he could detect any sign of what might be slowing things down. Something must have gone wrong – he’d only been assigned to them a couple of weeks ago, but their reputation was for a smooth, methodical, professional group who worked efficiently. However, if he did that, the light might change.

It had started to rain since the rest of the team had made their entrance. This caused a slight distraction, but Scott was well trained, and kept his eye on the target. A crackle from the radio behind him briefly caught his attention, but it resolved into static, rather than any message. He inched back, reaching for it whilst continuing to watch through the scope. He twiddled with the dials, trying to tune in to whatever channel had almost made a sound.

After a moment, Scott had found the channel, but it was faint and still very filled with static. There was a voice, but it was impossible to interpret in the circumstances. It sounded like a repeating message… and the voice sounded urgent. Scott turned his attention back to the scope, and the repeating green light. Had it gotten slower? No – that was, surely, just his imagination.

Other windows lit up – not the steady illumination of lights being turned on, but the staccato flares of gunfire. They immediately drew Scott’s attention, but he pulled his view back to the scope, and the window with the light. Gunfire was a sign that things had gone sideways, but that didn’t mean everything had gone wrong. Scott had already known that something had gone wrong – it was taking too long.

The static continued on the radio, but the voice sounded like it was getting more and more urgent, but no more intelligible. Perhaps if Scott could get the radio higher, then he’d be able to get a clearer signal. He’d scouted the building before they’d started the operation – he could still get a view of the room from the higher levels, but not as clearly. He’d still be able to see in but wouldn’t be able to find a clear shot if it was needed. And he’d need to take the time to climb at least two levels, during which the light might change.

It wasn’t wort the risk. He couldn’t afford the time, and his orders were clear.

The gunfire stopped, and more minutes passed. Scott wiped sweat from his brow.

The radio continued to sound. It was becoming irritating – they were supposed to have gone radio silent once the operation began, which was why they had the light to indicate when it was time to press the button. Scott reached to turn it off but paused when the voice managed to get through the static. It was only a moment, and the message still wasn’t completely clear, but it was a security code, and it was correct. Despite the radio silence, somebody was trying to contact Scott.

The green light continued to flash.

Scott stared at the radio for half a minute before he forced his attention back to the scope. Could the operation have truly gone FUBAR? Surely that would be the only circumstances under which somebody would try to contact him. Either way – he was going to have to take the chance to move to the higher floor – Scott needed to hear what the message was saying.

Scott picked up the scope and the radio and moved swiftly, heading out of the door only moments after he’d made the decision. He was only two steps out of his room, however, when he heard gunfire and felt the impacts on the doorframe behind him. He ducked back quickly and moved for the cover of the wall. Dropping the radio, he quickly pulled his sidearm and looked around the doorframe.

Something had clearly gone very wrong, and Scott was very glad that he hadn’t been waiting by his scope, watching a green light, when the attackers entered. He saw a head appear around the stairs and took a shot. As a trained marksman, it was easy, though he generally preferred much longer ranges. He waited a moment and then moved out to look down the stairs himself – the chances of them having only sent one man was slim. As Scott looked down, he saw the second man and took another shot, taking him in the gut before the man had a chance to fire at him.

He waited for a few moments, looking down, waiting to see if a third man would arrive. They didn’t, and so he returned to pick up the radio again, hoping that it hadn’t been damaged. He ran up the stairs, throwing caution to the wind – he’d already taken longer than he had the luxury of, dealing with the two gunmen.

Scott moved into the secondary room he’d scouted and moved to the window, setting up the scope. He breathed a sigh of relief to see that the green light was still flashing. Then he checked himself – he was wanting the red light. At least he hadn’t missed the change, but he’d be glad when it happened. With his eye still to the scope, he checked the radio with his fingers – it didn’t seem to be damaged. He turned the dials again, desperately trying to find the signal.

As he searched, he saw somebody enter the room with the light. He saw them lean out of the window and look around, a gun in their hands. Scott realised that they were looking for him and he was, once again, glad that he’d made the decision to move. He couldn’t get a clear shot at the man himself.

Scott found the frequency again. The security code came through again, and then the order to abort the operation. And then, behind the man who was till looking out of the window, the green light turned to red. His hand went for the button, but he paused.

He’d been told to abort. It seemed the other members of the team hadn’t received the message as they’d completed their part. There had been a firefight – it was possible that some, or even most, of them might not be coming back. The people in there had sent two men to try to take him out, and even now another was looking for him. Could he ignore the work that his team had done in that building?

Scott spoke into the radio, confirming that he had received the abort message, and requested confirmation. He received it and asked for confirmation that the rest of the team had received the order. Scott received that too.

The team had received, and confirmed, the order to abort, but they clearly hadn’t done so. Why would they have disregarded that order? And what could he, Scott, do about it. He had two conflicting orders – one to press a button when the light turned red, and the other to not. He didn’t have enough information to make the decision. He was in the dark about what had happened in there, even about why the operation had been ordered in the first place.

In the end, there was only one thing he could fall back on. He trusted his team. They knew far more than he did about what was going on inside, and they had ignored the order.

He pressed the button.