The rebel camp was no longer the desperate sanctuary it had once been. After weeks of scattered victories and the arrival of Adrian Vega, the tension had shifted. The air was charged, not with fear, but with the crackling energy of revolution on the cusp of change.
They had made their decision.
The American armory in Nueva Caceres—located in a fortified Spanish-era garrison—was to be their next target. But it wasn't just guns and bullets they were after. According to Adrian, the Americans had retrieved strange equipment from a fallen drone, wreckage from his own time. Communications gear. Advanced optics. Possible prototypes of weapons yet to be invented. If they took it now, they could seize a decisive advantage in a war that would only get bloodier.
"We strike at night," Elijah announced to the rebel council, a map spread before him. "We're ghosts in the dark. They expect a frontal assault, maybe a siege. We give them none of it. We get in, we take what we need, and we vanish."
Luna leaned forward, her eyes glinting. "And if they catch us?"
Elijah's jaw tightened. "Then we make them regret it."
Isa stood at his side, her mind already calculating the risks. "How many guards?"
"Two full squads. Fifteen inside. Ten patrolling the perimeter," Adrian answered. "Some with rifles, some with repeaters. But the tech they have—that's the real threat. I saw what looked like an infrared scope. If they've powered it up, we'll be walking into light we can't see."
"So we cut the power first," Isa said, tracing her finger along a hidden path on the map. "Generator is here. Outside the main compound."
Adrian nodded. "You're quick. I like that."
Isa gave him a hard look. "I'm also married to this war. Don't mistake tactics for trust."
Elijah smiled despite himself. "She says that to everyone."
The Infiltration
Two days later, under the shroud of moonless skies, the rebels moved like ghosts through the trees. Split into three squads, they followed narrow forest trails, guided by scouts and silence. Elijah's team would approach from the east, targeting the generator. Isa and Luna would lead the west flank, scaling the ridge to breach the main storage depot. Adrian stayed with Elijah—his familiarity with modern systems was crucial.
They reached the edge of the jungle at midnight.
The armory loomed ahead, a stone-and-steel structure surrounded by a perimeter fence of barbed wire and watchtowers. Spotlights scanned the open ground. Beyond the walls, crates and sealed metal containers lay scattered—some bearing the mark of a future Adrian didn't want to remember.
"Eyes on the patrols," Elijah whispered. "Wait for my signal."
The guards moved in predictable intervals. Years of insurgency had made the rebels adept at timing. As the spotlight turned away, Elijah nodded. Two rebels crawled through the grass, wire cutters in hand. With swift movements, they clipped a narrow hole in the fence. One by one, they slipped through.
"Move."
They raced to the generator station, a squat building tucked behind a supply tent. Elijah took point, his rifle drawn. Adrian covered the rear.
One guard.
A quick strike—silent. The man slumped without a sound.
Adrian knelt beside the generator. "It's diesel. Easy to disable." He cut a hose and jammed the fuel intake with mud. "Won't restart until they rip it apart."
The lights around the compound flickered—then died.
The night swallowed the camp in shadow.
Chaos and Conquest
From the west, Isa and Luna breached the outer wall with grappling hooks, their squad following with the grace of trained assassins. Luna lobbed a smoke grenade into the central courtyard, giving cover. Isa's blade flickered in the dark, taking down two soldiers before they even knew they were under attack.
Gunfire erupted near the barracks. A small detachment of American soldiers had rallied.
"Engage, but don't linger!" Isa shouted. "Find the vault!"
The storage vault was locked with a keypad—modern, glowing faintly in the dark.
Adrian, called by radio, arrived moments later. "Get me thirty seconds."
Luna and her sharpshooters covered the hallway. Bullets pinged off the metal doors. The rebels returned fire with salvaged Mausers.
Adrian worked quickly, fingers dancing over a device he had salvaged from his old equipment belt.
"Now!" he shouted.
The vault opened.
Inside were crates filled with weapons, some bearing familiar serial numbers, others completely alien. There were data modules, cracked circuit boards, and a small drone, half-destroyed but unmistakably futuristic.
They packed what they could in minutes.
"We have to leave. Now."
The Escape
As the rebels withdrew, the Americans rallied in full force. Spotlights flicked back on—auxiliary power.
"They're lighting us up!"
Shots rang out as the rebels retreated through the trees. Isa took a bullet to the arm but kept moving. Elijah dragged a wounded fighter over his shoulder.
Behind them, Adrian tossed an incendiary grenade into the generator building.
Flames erupted. The Americans would have no chance to salvage the tech.
By dawn, they were gone.
The jungle swallowed them once more.
Aftermath
Back at the camp, they laid out their haul. Future weapons. Communication systems. Evidence that others from the future had already interfered.
Elijah stood over the drone wreckage, his expression unreadable.
Isa approached, her arm bandaged. "We won. At a cost."
"It's only the beginning," Elijah said. "The Americans will come harder now. And if other time travelers are still out there…"
"We find them first," Isa said. "Or we all lose."
Adrian nodded. "And I have a theory about who one of them might be."
Elijah turned to him. "Who?"
Adrian's eyes were grim. "Captain Marcus Raines. Special Forces. Vanished with me. He hated rebels. If he's here… and if he sided with the Americans… we're fighting more than history."
A long silence.
Elijah finally spoke.
"Then we take the fight to him before he takes it to us."