Stg. Salty Training in Glenbarrow Waterfall, Co. Laois Hiking

 

Chapter 5: The Submerged Shiny Thing

Sergeant Salty, galvanized by the prospect of genuine tactical action, was in his element. The previous annoyance melted away, replaced by the grim determination of a man hunting for espionage gear in a bog.

"Snaps! Visual confirmation! What are we looking at, Private?" Salty demanded, snatching the binoculars back.

Snaps, ever calm, peered through the lens. "Sarge, sir. It appears to be cylindrical... possibly composite material. There are flashing lights. I'd estimate the depth at approximately half a meter."

Salty nodded sharply. "Right. Could be a self-destruct mechanism! Giggles, secure the high ground! Provide overwatch!"

Giggles, terrified but loyal, scrambled up a mossy bank. "Overwatch! Got it, Sarge! Just... don't let it explode, please!"

Meanwhile, Sarah and Susan, teeth chattering but invigorated by the drama, were already moving toward the submerged object.

"We have visual contact, Sarge," Sarah reported, wading carefully. "It's wedged between two rocks."

"Maintain distance, Private!" Salty commanded, gesturing wildly. "It could be booby-trapped! McFinleyyy, prepare the extraction gear!"

McFinleyyy immediately rummaged in the picnic basket, pulling out a coil of string and a fork. "Extraction gear ready, Sarge! Though I reckon the Large Lad could just reach it."

Ye Olde Large Lad, hearing his name, lumbered over to the water's edge, peering into the murky pool.

"Negative, Private McFinleyyy! We maintain protocol! Sarah, Susan, use maximum caution. Try to loop the string around it!" Salty felt a surge of military pride. This was exactly the kind of improvised, high-stakes retrieval mission that tested a unit's resourcefulness.

Sarah and Susan carefully maneuvered the string, guided by Salty's increasingly frantic shouts. After several splashes and much shivering, they managed to snag the object and slowly pull it free from the rocks.

As the object surfaced, its true nature became clear: a brand-new quadcopter drone, still encased in a protective plastic shell, with a tiny, blinking red light and a logo advertising "Peak Performance Aerial Tours."

Salty snatched the dripping device from Susan, his face a mask of profound disappointment. He turned it over, examining the expensive plastic shell.

"A drone," Salty muttered, the dramatic tension draining out of him like bathwater. "Not enemy intel. Not a classified weapon. Just... some civilian's flying camera."

He jabbed a wet finger at a small sticker on the side. "'Property of Barry from Ballynahown. If found, please call for reward.'"

A wave of anti-climax washed over the entire crew.

McFinleyyy burst out laughing. "A reward, Sarge! That’s even better than enemy intel! We’ve performed a successful Tactical Retrieval of High-Value Civilian Property!"

"High value, indeed," Snaps noted, lowering his camera. "The footage contained within could be priceless... or just blurry shots of trees."

Salty handed the drone to Ye Olde Large Lad, who cradled it like a giant, very wet kitten. "Right. Mission objective is now: Return Lost Equipment to Barry from Ballynahown. And perhaps secure the promised reward." He paused, looking at his shivering, soaked troops and the scattered picnic supplies. "And someone get Sarah and Susan warm before they turn into actual popsicles!"

As the team transitioned from espionage alert to the mundane task of phoning Barry, Salty had to admit, this hiking trip had exceeded all expectations for character-building. They hadn't faced rogue sheep or badgers, but they had overcome treacherous roots, thermal shock, and the crushing disappointment of discovering that "enemy intelligence" was just a lost tourist’s drone.

The only thing left to do was find Barry and see if the reward was worth the price of tactical hypothermia.

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