Part 2 of 4: The Rescue
By Maurice "Duc" Duclos - January 31, 2025
Kai pressed deeper into the rubble as drone rotors sliced through the night. Five machines hunting through Old Town's ruins, their whine like angry insects searching for prey.
Beside him, Liang went still as one dropped lower. Through broken concrete, they studied their target - the former police headquarters, now the occupation's interrogation center. Floodlights carved razor shadows across steel walls. The utility tunnel entrance waited exactly where Mei said it would be in the east yard.
The drone's buzz vibrated through the concrete at their backs. Not the usual security models. New sensors hung beneath sleek frames, predatory.
"Different design," Liang breathed, hand moving to his weapon. The drone swept past, missing them by meters.
Kai raised his camera, the telephoto lens finding the tunnel entrance. Working fast, he documented guard positions, cameras, the power box for the electrified fence. If Ying was still alive inside, they'd have one chance.
The drone banked sharply, dropping closer. Dust swirled beneath its rotors as it hovered directly overhead. Neither man breathed. Its sensors probed the darkness around them, hunting.
"Time to go." Kai's whisper was lost in the drone's whine. They retreated through the ruins, using broken walls and twisted rebar for cover. The mechanical buzz followed them but grew fainter as they put distance between themselves and the facility.
Two streets away, they split up, taking parallel routes through the shadows. Three checkpoints, three pauses to watch for tails. At the final corner, Kai caught Liang's signal - clear behind.
The van waited in darkness, its faded delivery logo barely visible. Kai flashed his light at the driver's window - two quick, pause, one. Seconds stretched until Mei's response: one long, pause, two short. Clear to approach.
Inside, monitors and comm gear packed every corner of their mobile command center. Liang dropped into his spot, tension bleeding into a grin.
"Honey, we're home."
Mei's fingers never stopped moving across her keyboard. "Early. Problems?"
"New hardware up there." Kai handed her the camera. "Zhan's upgraded his toys."
Mei's expression hardened as she studied the photos. "Thermal imaging." She zoomed in, tapping the sensor pods. "They see heat. Body temperature. And they're AI-driven - never miss a sweep."
"Perfect," Liang muttered. "Now they can see us through walls."
Mei was already grabbing her jacket. "Need supplies. And command needs to know about Ying."
"What kind of supplies?"
"The kind that'll make us invisible." She paused at the door. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow night gets complicated."
Kai watched her slip into the darkness. Through the van's walls, the drone whine continued its relentless patrol. He checked his watch - sixteen hours until next dark period. Sixteen hours before they could make another attempt. Somewhere in that concrete fortress, Ying was running out of time.
"Get some sleep," he told Liang. "I'll take first watch."
"If she breaks—" Liang began.
"She won't." Kai's voice was firm, but doubt gnawed at him. Ying was tough, but Zhan's methods were brutal. The entire resistance network could unravel if she talked.
The night deepened around the van, and somewhere above, mechanical insects continued their relentless patrol, hunting for prey in the darkness.
Mei returned near dawn, carrying takeout bags that filled the van with the smell of dumplings and coffee. She'd barely settled when she pulled the encrypted message from her pocket.
"Orders," she said, pulling up a webpage. The trigraph system was old but elegant - impossible to crack without knowing both where to find the key and how to read it. Each day, a different webpage, a different starting point, text copied backwards. Even the occupation's best cryptographers would see nothing but random letters.
Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard as she decoded the transmission. She ran it again, then looked at Liang. "Check my work."
Liang studied both the coded message and the webpage. His expression darkened. "That can't be right."
"What is it?" Kai asked.
"Primary mission is extraction," Mei said quietly. "But if we can't get her out..." She met Kai's eyes. "We terminate."
"No." Liang's voice was hard. "We don't kill our own."
"If she talks, the network burns," Mei said. "You know what Zhan's capable of. The Northern Province—"
"I was there." Liang's hands clenched. "I saw what his interrogators did. But this is Ying."
Kai studied the cold metal wall, instead seeing the faces of resistance members who'd vanished into Zhan's detention centers. Most never emerged, and those who did were broken, their information already extracted.
"We kill her?" Liang demanded. "Our own?"
The silence in the van grew heavier. If they couldn't extract Ying, if she broke under interrogation, the entire network would unravel. And if their team couldn't carry out the kill order, another might already be moving into position.
"Then we better not fail." Kai's voice was steel.
"I have a plan," Mei said, breaking the tension. She pulled something from her bags—sheets of material, dark on one side and silvery on the other, crinkling as she spread them out. But first, we need to test something."
She grabbed a handheld device. "Commercial IR thermometer. Not military grade, but it'll work as a demonstration." She pointed it at Kai. "Normal body temperature is 37°C. To their thermal imaging, you're a flare." The display showed bright red numbers. "Drones scan the 8- to 15-micron range—exactly where humans radiate."
She wrapped the Mylar around her arm, checking the reading again. The numbers plummeted. "Space blankets reflect almost all infrared. They're not perfect—heat leaks from edges and gaps. And they transfer heat fast. It'll last five minutes max before you show up on their scopes."
"And if we overheat?" Liang asked, running the crinkly material through his fingers.
"That's the tricky part." Mei reached into another bag, pulled out two black umbrellas. "But it's supposed to rain tonight. With these over the mylar, you'll look like any civilians caught in the weather. Just shadows in the dark. Umbrellas hide the heat leaks from above."
"The Crimson Moon's newest weapons - tin foil and corner store umbrellas," Liang smirked. "We're getting high-tech."
Mei ignored him, spreading out a rough blueprint of the compound. "And I've got something else. Local contact pulled guard rotation schedules. Plus..." She produced a handful of RFID badges. "Building access. Can't guarantee which one will work, but one of them should."
Kai studied the blueprint, already mapping their approach. "Walk me through it."
"The diversion team hits at 0100. You and..." Mei gestured at Liang, who was nodding off against the van wall, "...sleeping beauty there need to breach the east gate, cross to the utility tunnel, and be in position before then."
Kai snapped his fingers. "Pay attention."
Liang jerked upright, rubbing his jawline. "Breach gate, cross yard, take tunnel, diversion, level two, spring Ying. See? Got it. Just resting my eyes."
"Okay, both of you sleep now," Mei said, returning to her monitors. "You are going to need it. I'll monitor patrol patterns until tonight."
Kai leaned back, keeping his hand near his weapon. The kill order hung heavy between them. In a few hours, they'd either rescue Ying or... He pushed the thought away, focusing on the drone whine that had become the city's deadly lullaby.
Above their heads, something mechanical whirred past the van's roof. Kai's hand tightened on his weapon, but Mei shook her head.
"Municipal cleaner," she said, eyes on her monitors. "Different sound signature. Get some rest - I've got watch."
Sleep came in fragments. Kai dreamed of concrete corridors and Ying's laughter from resistance meetings that felt like a lifetime ago. When he opened his eyes, the van's interior was bathed in deep blue dusk. Liang was already awake, checking his gear with practiced efficiency.
Mei handed each of them a bundled mylar blanket and umbrella. "Remember - five minutes max once you wrap up. Then heat bleeds through."
"Status on the diversion team?" Kai asked, securing the blanket inside his jacket. His fingers brushed against his crimson scarf - they'd need those symbols of defiance soon enough.
"In position. South team's ready." Mei's fingers moved across her keyboard. "Drones running standard patrol patterns. No changes in guard rotation."
Kai checked his watch: 0037. Twenty-three minutes until they needed to be in position.
When he opened the van's rear doors, the night air hit him. He and Liang moved through shadows they'd mapped during recon, working block by block toward the facility's eastern perimeter. The drone buzz grew louder as they approached, their mechanical whine a constant reminder of watchful eyes above.
At fifty meters from the fence line, they paused behind a rusted shipping container. Kai checked his watch: 0055. Rain fell in a light mist, collecting in oily puddles that reflected the facility's searchlights. The perfect cover for what came next.
"Time to go," he whispered, pulling out his crimson scarf and tucking it beneath his jacket. The weight of it reminded him what they were fighting for. "Badges ready?"
Liang pulled out the first RFID card. They crossed the final stretch of broken concrete to the gate, boots silent on the wet ground. The fence loomed ahead, razor wire glinting in the dim light.
Red light.
He tried the second badge, fingers steady despite the exposed position. Overhead, drone rotors whined closer.
Another red light.
Third badge. Nothing happened for a long moment. Kai held his breath. A drone's shadow passed over them.
Green light.
The gate clicked open with a sound that seemed impossibly loud in the darkness. They slipped through, immediately pressing against the inside of the fence. The yard stretched thirty meters to the tunnel entrance, every inch exposed to the drones' thermal cameras. Guard towers rose at each corner, their searchlights cutting lazy arcs through the rain.
"Now," Kai whispered, pulling out his mylar blanket. The material crinkled as they wrapped themselves completely, leaving only the smallest gap to see through. They opened the umbrellas, hunching against the steady drizzle. Above them, rotors whined in their programmed pattern.
They moved across the yard in short bursts, timing their progress between drone passes. Two machines crossed overhead, their sensors sweeping. Kai and Liang froze, hunched beneath their umbrellas like any civilians caught in the rain. The drones hovered, searching... then continued their patrol pattern. Mei's trick was working.
The tunnel entrance grew closer—a black rectangle in the concrete wall. A third drone dropped lower than the others, its rotors stirring the rain into swirling patterns. Kai's breath was hot inside the mylar, and sweat was already beginning to form beneath the reflective material. They had minutes at most before their heat started bleeding through.
At the tunnel door, Liang pulled out his digital bypass tool while Kai kept watch. The device cycled through combinations, each failed attempt marking precious seconds lost.
"Nothing," Liang muttered, trying another sequence. The lock's red light blinked mockingly. He tried a third set - still nothing. Above them, drone rotors whined closer.
"We need that door open," Kai whispered. "Now."
"No good," Liang whispered, then cracked a sly smile. "Plan B - old school." He produced a spring-loaded punch tool. The metallic rod fit perfectly against the first hinge pin. One sharp tap, and the pin slid free with barely a sound. Second pin. Third. The door shifted, starting to lean. Together, they caught it before it could crash down, easing it sideways.
Inside the tunnel, they stripped off the mylar blankets and stuffed the crinkly material into their packs. The passage stretched ahead into darkness, pipes and conduits running along its walls. Somewhere above, Ying was waiting.
"Hold position," Mei's voice was sharp in their earpieces. "Three minutes until the south team hits. Stay in the tunnel until the diversion starts."
They pressed into the shadows, the facility's door propped beside them. Kai checked his watch—0059. His hand tightened on his weapon as they waited in the tunnel's darkness—one more minute.
A muffled explosion rocked the night, followed by another. The concrete walls around them seemed to shudder as a series of detonations lit up the compound's southern edge.
"South team just hit the compound," Mei reported. "Guards are responding. Drones redirecting to the blast site."
Through the tunnel's entrance, they could see emergency lights painting the yard in spinning red. Guards shouted orders, their boots pounding on pavement as they rushed toward the chaos.
"Moving," Kai whispered. They pushed deeper into the tunnel, using their knowledge of the blueprint to navigate the maze of pipes and conduits. The passage curved upward, leading to a maintenance access point that would put them just below the detention level.
Another explosion rattled the facility. Closer this time.
"That wasn't us," Mei's voice crackled with concern. "South team's still—" Static cut through her transmission. "—jamming our comms. Something's—"
The signal died.
Kai and Liang exchanged glances in the dim emergency lighting. Without Mei's eyes on the security feeds, they were running blind. But they couldn't stop now. Not with Ying so close.
The tunnel opened into a utility room, walls lined with circuit breakers and maintenance panels. Steam pipes snaked across the ceiling, and the air smelled of ozone and machine oil. Kai eased one of the inner doors open, checking the main corridor. Emergency lighting cast everything in a blood-red glow.
Footsteps echoed from around the corner - a pair of guards moving fast. Kai pulled the door nearly shut, leaving just a crack. The guards rushed past, their radios crackling with orders about the fuel depot attack.
"Clear," he breathed.
They slipped into the corridor, its layout still betraying its origins as a police station. Processing desks and administrative offices lined the walls, stripped of their original purpose and now part of the occupation’s machinery. The stairwell to the detention level was straight ahead, past the security station.
Another explosion rumbled in the distance, sending vibrations through the walls. Kai gestured for Liang to follow, moving low toward the security station’s reinforced window. Inside, two guards sat at their desk, their backs to the door, engrossed in the monitors. A red warning light flashed on the console. One guard grabbed a radio.
“Echo-Three, respond,” the guard barked. Static crackled. “Echo-Three, communication check.” Static answered again. The guard muttered a curse, switching channels.
“Cameras are glitching,” his partner said, slapping the side of his monitor. “East sector’s nothing but snow.”
Mei was still in the game, jamming the cameras even without direct comms. But every second she bought was precious, and their window wouldn’t last.
Another explosion shook the building, closer this time. The guards leaned toward their monitors, momentarily distracted. Kai touched his suppressed .22 and glanced at Liang. A tilt of the head, a nod in return. Liang was already moving, pistol drawn.
The door opened with barely a whisper. The guards turned too late—Kai fired twice into the first guard’s chest, the subsonic rounds barely louder than a hand clap. The man slumped forward over the desk, gasping but not dead. Liang stepped forward, firing rapidly into the second guard, his pistol spitting four quick shots. The guard collapsed in a heap, groaning weakly. Liang fired again, this time into his head.
Kai finished off his target with a final shot to the neck, the suppressed crack muffled by the console. Blood pooled under the desk as they quickly dragged the bodies out of sight.
Liang rifled through the guards’ pockets, retrieving spare key cards. “Nothing but pistols,” he muttered, shaking his head. “No rifles.”
“Station guards aren’t issued them,” Kai replied quietly, already scanning the monitors. Most feeds showed static thanks to Mei’s interference, but one displayed the stairwell. It was clear for now. Another flickered briefly, showing guards rushing toward the southern explosions.
They slipped into the stairwell and ascended quickly but quietly. Two flights up, Kai paused at the second-floor door. Through its narrow window, he caught a glimpse of the detention wing’s security station.
Unlike the first, this one was more exposed. The desk sat at the center of a wide corridor, with two guards stationed there. Both wore sidearms, and their alert posture suggested they weren’t as distracted as the ones below. Emergency lighting bathed the area in crimson, the pulsing strobe throwing jagged shadows across the walls. Cameras hung from the ceiling, their red status lights dark. Mei’s jamming was still holding, but for how long?
Kai eased the door open an inch to study the layout. The guards exchanged clipped words as one tapped at a flickering monitor. The warning lights flashed steadily, but the camera feeds remained dead.
“We have to go around,” Liang whispered. “Too exposed here.”
Kai shook his head. “No time.”
He moved first, slipping through the door as the lighting pulsed. Using the strobing shadows as cover, he closed the distance. The first guard spotted him too late—Kai’s pistol barked twice, the rounds hitting low, center mass. The guard stumbled backward, blood staining his uniform, and crumpled to the floor.
The second guard turned, his sidearm halfway out of its holster, but Liang stepped in, firing four rapid shots into his chest and neck. The man collapsed instantly, his blood pooling on the concrete. Liang fired one more time into his head, ensuring he was down for good.
Kai checked the console, scanning the monitors. Most were dead, but one flickered to life, showing the detention cells ahead. A guard paced in front of one of the doors, his pistol holstered at his side.
“There,” Kai hissed, pointing at the monitor. “That’s her.”
Liang peered around the edge of the station. “Looks like the rest of them pulled back. We need to hurry before they double back.”
Kai nodded. “Let’s go.”
They moved quickly down the corridor, the strobing crimson light casting eerie shadows as they closed in on Ying’s cell. Dust drifted from the ceiling as another explosion rattled the building, but Kai didn’t stop. They were almost there.
“There!” Liang pointed. About halfway down the hall, a single guard stood blocking a cell. “Must be hers.” The rest of the guards had apparently been pulled away by the chaos outside. No backup to worry about, but they’d have to move fast before anyone circled back to check on him.
The key card beeped green, and the pair slipped silently into the hallway, closing the distance before the guard turned. Ten feet away, the guard’s head snapped toward them, eyes narrowing in confusion before widening in recognition.
Kai didn’t wait—he raised his pistol and fired.
Click.
The small pistol jammed. Kai barely registered the failure before the guard reacted, snapping his rifle up. The first shot missed, the muzzle flash blinding in the dim hallway. Kai lunged forward, grabbing the barrel with both hands as they slammed against the wall. His fingers locked on the rifle barrel, knuckles white as the guard forced the muzzle down inches from Kai’s chest. Kai gritted his teeth, kept one hand death-gripping the rifle, and reached for the paring knife strapped horizontally to his belt. The blade was cheap, the kind you’d find in any market, but it was lethal for close-range work. He struck low first, driving the knife into the guard’s side in rapid succession; then, as the guard dropped his arm to block his blows, Kai stuck higher, aiming for the neck. The stabs were quick and brutal—sewing machine strikes born of desperation.
The guard stumbled back, blood pouring from multiple stab wounds, but he wasn’t finished. He sagged against the wall, eyes glassy with shock but still alive.
Liang’s .22 coughed once. The single shot hit clean in the forehead. The guard’s head snapped back, and he slid down the wall, leaving a dark smear of blood as he collapsed onto the cold concrete floor.
Kai sheathed the knife, his breath coming hard and fast. Liang muttered, “That was messy.”
“Just move,” Kai growled, handing the rifle to Liang and grabbing the guard’s keys to open the cell door.
Ying was on her feet the instant the door swung open, throwing herself into Kai’s arms. “Thank god… thank god…” she sobbed into his bloody jacket.
“I know,” Kai managed, his heart still racing. “But we have to move. Now.”
As they made their way down the hallway, the sharp crack of gunfire erupted behind them. Guards were closing in. The team rushed down the stairs, almost to the utility tunnel, when Ying stumbled.
“Hit,” she gasped, clutching her side.
Kai ripped off his crimson scarf, pressing it hard against the wound as blood soaked through the fabric. “Keep moving,” he ordered his voice tight with urgency.
Liang fired bursts down the hallway, forcing the pursuing guards to take cover.
“Move!” he yelled, covering their retreat as Kai half-carried Ying down the stairs, her steps faltering with each passing moment. They descended into the darkness, the same route that had brought them in now their lifeline out.
When they emerged, the yard was clear; all the drones must have been drawn to the chaos still happening on the compound's south side. They moved fast through the shadows, Ying barely able to walk. Outside the gate, they didn't bother with counter-surveillance measures; they just grabbed Ying under each arm and made straight for the extraction point.
The van’s engine was already running when they reached the alley. Mei flashed the headlights twice—a signal that she was ready to move.
“Everybody in?” she called back as they scrambled inside.
“Clear!” Liang shouted, slamming the rear doors after helping Kai and Ying inside. “Let’s go!”
“She’s hit bad!” Liang moved toward the front. “We need a medic, fast!”
Kai pressed harder on the scarf, his hands slick with Ying’s blood. Her breathing was shallow, her face pale in the dim light of the van. He could feel her life slipping away beneath his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on. Her hand gripped his arm weakly, her eyes searching his. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the pounding of his own heart.
“Shhhh,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “It’s okay…”
Her fingers tightened on his arm for a fleeting moment, then went limp.
“Save your strength,” he whispered, but her eyes had already gone lifeless, her shallow breaths now silent.
Liang glanced back. “East side safe house—fifteen minutes.”
Kai exhaled shakily. “She’s gone.” His words were quiet, almost swallowed by the hum of the tires against the wet pavement.
Mei said nothing, her grip tightening on the wheel as she guided them through the dark streets. Behind them, the night erupted with more explosions—far more than their diversion team had planned. Flashes lit the sky, silhouetting the compound in a series of fiery bursts.
“Not ours,” Mei muttered under her breath. Whatever was happening tonight, it wasn’t just about their rescue attempt.
In Kai’s hands, the blood-soaked scarf felt heavier than ever—a symbol of defiance turned to sacrifice in this unending war.
The Crimson Moon Chronicles are purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, organizations, or operations is purely coincidental. The story follows a fictional resistance organization operating under occupation, showcasing various tactics and techniques inspired by current resistance, irregular, and unconventional warfare theories and concepts. Written in the style of short, serialized action fiction, it pays homage to the 1930s and 1940s pulp classics popular in the U.S., such as Doc Savage and The Shadow.
About the author
CW5 Maurice “Duc” DuClos currently serves as a Guest Lecturer at the Naval Post Graduate School (NPS) in Monterey, California. His professional background includes various positions at the United States Special Operations Command (USSOCOM) Joint Special Operations University (JSOU), the U.S. Army John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center and School (USAJFKSWCS), and 1st Special Forces Group (Airborne).
The views expressed are those of the authors and do not reflect the official position of the United States Special Operations Command, Joint Special Operations University, Naval Post Graduate School, or the Irregular Warfare Center.
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