Ortega kept close watch on Danforth for a long time as they marched silently in the darkness.
He was close enough to see that Danforth stared blankly ahead, not caring where he was stepping, but at least he seemed calmer than before.
He had definitely cooled off.
Not before long Ortega went back to planning potential escape routes in his head and eventual pull-out points. There was a storm of theories and hypothesises in his head. He was evaluating any potential route the VCs could take to hunt the team down. That’s the reason he’d ordered Rambo and Berry to keep on setting booby traps as they went.
The only good thing about that whole thing was that that mission would be over a lot sooner than expected, and Ortega didn't feel the slightest bit guilty about it. Getting that mission accomplished wouldn't have been easy in the least. In fact, blowing that fucking base up would have been a disaster.
Besides, he’d had more than enough for that night.
Despite his thoughts being elsewhere, Ortega glanced from time to time in Danforth's direction throughout the entire march. He still hadn’t said a word and just kept walking in front of them.
Ortega went to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand.
He was sweating so much that night that his headband wasn’t doing the trick.
He had to hold on a little while longer. The LZs weren't that far.
In a matter of hours from now actually, he could cross that shitty night out of his head.