News: ~August 18th 2022~ - (Old News)
The move has been completed successfully! Everything appears to have survived the move just fine, but if anyone finds a broken link or anything else that doesn't work as it should, please make a post in Away from the Woods to let me know, thank you.
RP News: ~November 19th 2015~ (Old RP News)
There is no current plot. The forests welcome new travelers within these lands. Event Status: Not Active (each accepted character allowed to RP in multiple RP threads)
RP Season: Summer
This means everything is green, flowers are everywhere, and the shining sun creates a need for shady shelter on the warmest days.
While he watched the destruction, a few of the animals dashed off into the bushes beside him. Then came the swarm of insects. A dragonfly that could have been called a bird flew up and ran into Jack's face. "Ooof." Jack managed to get out as he tried to pull the thing off. Its legs had latched on, and it wasn't giving up without a fight. Finally, after struggling with the damn thing for a few moments, he pulled it off and threw forward without thinking. It was headed straight for one of the native’s heads, when at the last second the dragonfly's wings kicked in and it flew off.
Jack barely had enough time to take a breath of relief before being pulled down to listen to what Pico had to say. "Something very small and portable... quick!" "What?" Jack asked confused but began to follow Pico anyway. Jack began to sweat even more now, staining his shirt with the smelly liquid. Hands became more slippery, grabbing anything now would be twice as hard. His boots sloshed just a little as he walked. "I am so taking a shower after all of this." He mumbled to himself.
Obviously, Pico's words had been too brief... lacked enough information. More to the point, had contained too many apparently empty words, and not enough rapid specifics. His own fault, that. He'd expected Jack to understand the situation. Had thought Jack might have, perhaps, been smarter than this. Might have observed that the natives were unintentionally flanking them. Might have understood the concept of small and portable and quick...
... understood, also, what it meant to be silent and low to the ground.
No help for it... no time to do more than lead Jack to a small space clear of disturbable vegetation, before the dragonfly-distracted native could look their way and draw unwanted attention. Near all Pico could think of, right this second?... he knew the weaponry on those tanks, from his scan, and how just one shot from their main guns could take both of them out. Frustration, more than fear, due to Jack still remaining human and upright, even after being pulled down by belt and instructed to transform. Was this human expecting pure, dumb luck to aid his survival? Pico had spent near his entire life fighting Fate, denying his kind's nature, so he could make of himself something Life insisted he wasn't suited to be... at peace with himself and the Universe.
Jack wasn't making it easy for Pico to hold back his predatory nature... civilization, in his kind, never went more than skin deep in the majority of their population. A thin mask. Pico had learned to be far more civilized, deep beneath his skin, but his bones were still raw and wet. Ready to soak through hide. A red and throbbing anger, exposed to the air....
At just the right moment, as distracted native eyes threatened to look their way, in the direction where disturbed bug and almost-heard fuss had its origin...
... Pico leapt up, grabbed hold of Jack's shirt-collar, used his tail to collapse the human's knees, from behind, and pulled him to the ground as gently and silently as he could manage, under the circumstances. Careful not to break or otherwise injure fragile human leg-joints. Careful not to scratch or skewer skin with his claws, but not caring if shirt or any other clothing got ripped. If he had to strip Jack nude, roll him in mud and drag him by his ankles... whatever their mutual survival required, Pico would do it. Even if he felt... as he did now... like stripping out Jack's intestines, and feeding him his own liver...
... "Rat...NOW!"
Those two words were whisper-hissed with teeth exposed... predatory breath smelling oddly of grape and pear, with a strong overlay of ripe vole and fresh blood, near enough to overwhelm the senses. Pico could almost feel the impending sensation of gunfire tearing through his hide...
... imagination, for the moment, yes, but no less real in his mind's eye.........
Yes, his words were lacking any sense to Jack. What had he meant? Jack was still pondering it over as he somewhat quietly followed Pico. He figured he meant to lay low and unseen so he hunched just enough so no one else could make his figure out, but he still remained somewhat upright. He noticed the natives, but didn't really give them much thought. He figured they'd be concentrated on the tanks, instead of a lone man and maybe a flash of a small animal. The only noise he made was the slushy sound of sweat being trapped in his boot. He would have to empty it out soon.
He didn't need to analyze the tanks, he had already seen enough of them to last him a lifetime. Their main gun was the real threat, but a small machine gun lay built inside the tank facing forward only. It was to the left of the turret, and looked like a small black object barely jetting out of the pale green color of the tank.
Pure dumb luck for survival wasn't always a bad thing to have. Infact, some missions required that to happen for them to be successful, but not this one, and not now. He quickly began planning the tanks fait when he was led to a small area. A large pitfall trap could be laid out, but that would only stop one. Besides, that would make them catch on to his presence in the jungle. It was a bad idea, and Jack knew it. The next thing that popped in his mind was sabotage. It was his specialty and he always has fun doing it. The tanks would have to stop eventually, and that's where he could get inside them and do some tinkering of his own. Yes this one seemed like it would work. The third thing that quickly came to his mind was to hijack one of them, and start shooting up the other tanks, but this one too was quickly shot down. The last one he thought of was blowing them up with any explosives he could steal from the terrorists. Now this idea too had promise. Only time would tell in which one he picks, and whether or not they go through with it.
Then, he was quickly cut out of thinking by Pico's actions. He resisted the instinct to strangle Pico and snap his neck. "Never, do that again! I thought you knew what instinct was! I could have tried to kill you if I hadn't off stopped myself." Jack hissed back. "You know, we have got to work on your communication skills...shit." With that being quickly whispered he morphed into a brown rat with small claws and green eyes. An overwhelming smell of fruit and blood entered his sensitive pink nose and he sneezed as quietly as he could.
Pico never counted on dumb luck. Not that luck hadn't smiled on him quite a few times in his life, just that... no, he never counted on it. At least, not in a random fashion. He did his best to make his own luck, by not taking unnecessary risks. Predatory tactics, predatory insticts. Survival. Even in his very young days, his natural smarts had led him to risk stowaway on an alien ship, not knowing where it would lead, but knowing the world of his birth was no longer fit to live on. And yet, despite his smarts, learning a new way of life hadn't been easy....
New foods....
New ways of communication....
New ideas....
New thoughts....
New behaviors....
New imprints on his senses....
Other ways of life....
Things he'd never been prepared for. Perhaps... even after all this time... he still had much more to learn. But he spent most of his time alone... unwelcomed by those knowledgeable about his species, not always fitting in with those who didn't. Not always good at making himself fully understood. Jack had perhaps been right... been smarter than Pico gave him credit, to some degree, at least. Of course, Pico understood instict... after all, he had suppressed his desire to relieve Jack of his entrails. If not for the need to avoid detection, alien laughter would have harked loud and metalic from his throat... at the very thought this human could kill him with bare hands. Pico was, in every way, a very potent bioweapon, created by a planet with a very harsh biosphere. Had Jack tried to step out on Pico's homeworld without a full Guardian isolation suit... well, if the 1.6 gees hadn't pulled him flat and broken his bones, or if the airborne pollens in the denser atmosphere hadn't triggered a fatal hystemic reaction, he would have either poisoned himself on the water, or on the food. Or simply been killed by the native wildlife, plant and/or animal. All this, before even meeting Pico's kind.
Indeed, out of all the things Pico had learned in over two hundred years, communication had been the hardest to master... he had a grasp that gave him fluency in a number of languages, but it also gave him difficulties in finding the right words to go with the natural wiring in his non-human brain. Many times, he used actions to speak louder than any words...
... so he used no words now, just stared... glared down at this green-eyed, sneezy brown male rat Jack had become, trying hard not to drool. Tried hard, while his senses very swiftly evaluated environment, situation and tactics. Then Pico's subhands snatched up the Jack-rat bare seconds after transformation. Held him to chest...
... and legs moved swiftly as he ran.
Is this what it felt like... for a father to hold his child and protect the future? The drives of rut made it feel so. Unfortunately, a mate and offspring were dreams only, with little chance of becoming real. Still, he held Jack-rat with a father's care, no crushing grip of steel-hard muscle or prick of claws. A total reversal of that oh so brief hunger for rodent he'd felt oh so recently. Rapid heartbeat and breath, footsteps that made no trip or sound. Skilled movements through undergrowth, a predator stalking prey in reverse... move fast through vegetation, without vegetation itself giving sign with its own movements... pace slowing and slipping through tighter spaces, only when there stood no other safe way of stealth and passage. Prey must not know. Prey must not even suspect! How much more, to avoid death by a more powerful predator!?.........
Though it seemed hours, not more than fifteen... twenty minutes passed, Jack-rat held secure and warm, Pico circling away and around through jungle, low and fast, at times using trees, always using other vegetation to shield from possible sight... hiding... attempting to hide bodyheat signature and scent, at no time making a single sound. His pathway circled way around camp and corpses and his own pack hidden quickly there, not safe to approach, till the tank-column passed. His pathway swept around wide, till it came up concealed... well behind the enemy forces....
Only then did Pico stop, and spare eyes for Jack-rat. Two bright amber-jade, one a soft blue. Ears and skull feelers both slicked back, as he remembered again his frustrations. Jack-rat, held a bit tighter in alien grip, as he was held away from warm chest... alien claws, now touching fur. Lightly enough not to draw blood, but one claw touching a very precious part of Jack-rat's anatomy, with very disturbing implications...
... "Jack... if you want us to work together, communication must be mutual. I warned you about running blind... scampering off on your own. You are a soldier, but I am a predator... more than that, I am what you term an Apex Predator... from a world that would kill a human within a few brief minutes... if that human was lucky." Pico's breaths had settled into a rythym, evident in his words and accent...
... "If you scamper again, I will be feasting on raw rat nads... or the nads of whatever beast you may become!"
Pico's grip made it clear that, for the moment, Jack would remain a rat, or suffer consequences...
... "If you can... speak in this form, do so... if... if not, then squeak your understanding........."
He was quickly snatched up and held against Pico's chest. It felt warm and cozy. He could probably take a nap if he wanted to. He felt some of the wind smash up against his face when the alien started to run. He began thinking if what he did was the wisest thing to do. Whether Pico knew it or not, Jack had showed some trust in morphing into the rat and letting himself be held. He could have morphed into anything else, a panther, a boar, even an anteater. No, but he didn't, he was putting some trust into his new partner in crime. Hopefully at some point, Pico would do the same. That way, they'll trust each other to the certain degree that this mission needs to have if it was going to be a success. Yes, he had taken a gamble in this situation, it could head ether way. Pico gets hungry, and already having something in his hands, could pop it in his mouth and that would be the end of it. On the other hand, the alien could take him quickly to safety and the two could make it back to camp and start planning.
Jack was used to gambling on situations, sometimes that was all that he could do. Hopefully this one would turn out in his favor. His nerves were as solid as stone, and his trust in Pico was practically showing. "Please don't eat me, please don't eat me, please don't eat me. What have I done?" Jack asked himself and felt like he had picked the wrong time to trust the alien. "Oh well, there's no turning back now. I'm sure he won't eat me...ya I'm sure." Jack thought as Pico practically flew through the area without even making a sound. No brush swayed from contact, no animal noticed the two, no yelling out from being spotted, no bullets ripping through the brush, no sound. Silence. Silence was what played on the air. Silence was what the two were, what they were made of at the moment.
Nothing could be heard for about mile in all directions. No birds squawking away, no annoying insects buzzing in your ear, no animals scurrying through the brush. The only indication that the tank convoy was still in the area was the fading rumble of the ground underneath. They had done it, Pico had done it. They were seemingly in a safe place, away from the tanks and the natives. At least Jack thought they were safe...that he was safe. The careful comfortable grip from Pico turned into a clawed trap. A claw was placed in a very uncomfortable place and Jack protested. He wanted to bite the claw off, but didn't for he was afraid of what might happen. The alien was starting to ruin the trust Jack had given when he morphed.
"Remove your claws from me. I have a thing called personal space, something you seem to not know! What? Communication is mutual you twit! Scamper off?! I did nothing of the sort! I investigated what it was, didn't put us in any danger until that damn dragon fly got in my face. Besides, I know that you were curious too. Apex predator yes, but the title doesn't make you all high and mighty around here. Get off your perch and start putting trust into me and I will do the same for you. Yes, yes, your world would kill me, I figured. I wouldn't visit your world anyway. They wanted you dead, and I think they are insane for doing so. What would they do to me if I showed up hmm? They'd probably actually kill me. Ohhhhhh, is that a threat? You’re the one that suggested we trust each other, and now your threatening our trust with a threat? This is juuuuust great. What...what the hell am I doing? You can't understand a word I say can you? Dammit, just release me, so I can translate what I said!" Jack's words may have been in English for him, but all they were to the outside world was a lot of angry squeaks and hisses.
The tank convoy had moved off. No shots, no yells, no pursuit. Pico had brought Jack-rat safely to a point where they could still observe the now distant butt of the convoy without danger of discovery. And, yes, Pico had given Jack-rat a chewing out for his impulsive rush towards evident danger, without so much as a gesture of intent. One thing about Pico, though... he did indeed lack a respect for personal space, when his temper flared. Again, this whole situation was odd. Feelings of paternal protectiveness... feelings of frustration and anger... feelings of hunger, though he had recently eaten. And now...
... now, he had a rat squeaking at him.
This made Pico feel very odd, indeed! Rush of blood and hormones, tensed and exercised muscle, breath coming deep and intense. Loneliness... pain... want and desire... angry "words" from a rat's mouth. No, Pico didn't understand a word, but he could imagine. So these squeaks and other rodent noises of offense touched something within that hadn't been touched in ages. It started with Pico's silence, his odd stare and half-tweeked expression... tongues sliding out, to be held between teeth... slight tremble in limbs, twitch of hide and claw, as his grip eased...
... followed by little, quiet bursts of sound in his chest, as if he'd developed a beginning cough, or perhaps stood on the verge of hiccups.
Jack-rat suddenly slid out of grip, as Pico's whole physical aspect relaxed into... into laughter. Alien chuckles, followed by louder, metalic hurks, as Pico collapsed into what could only be a fit of strange giggles. It got so bad, for a second there, it sounded like he'd choked on road-kill.........
Pico still twitched on the ground, while he waved his forelimbs, and tried to speak...
Something was wrong with Pico as Jack stared. He was starting to make sounds, he could hear them emitting from his chest. Then the grip loosened, and Jack slid and fell to the ground. He quickly turned into a green parrot instead of changing into his human form. Something was evidently wrong with Pico and Jack feared for his mental state. Didn't he say wit was the only thing keeping him sane? Jack took off and flew to a branch looming up above over the two. He looked down when he landed and spotted Pico on the ground twitching.
"Does he need medical attention of some sort?" Jack asked himself before Pico started to talk. Jack squawked at his words. "Calm down, calm down. You'll give yourself a heart attack." Jack said and bobbed his head up and down. He flapped his wings for a few seconds before walking along the branch to where he was directly over Pico. He leaned his head over the edge and looked down. "AAARRRRRRAAAAGHHHKKK! You mean you had me turn into a rat, when it was your favorite food? You just want to eat me don't you?" Jack asked and started to pick at his wings.
"This team of ours can't survive with threats of killing each other. We need to trust each other, not threaten. You were an apex predator at your home world, but here it is different. New predators, plants, and prey. Sure you know how to defend yourself and well I might add, but you still need to watch yourself. My world has its killers too, not to mention some deadly surprises. There are also man made horrors, experiments, such as myself but I'm the human variety and I'm actually good in nature. SQUUUUUAWWWWK!" He couldn't help the squawks he made, his parrot form was the only one he could think of at the moment that could speak. Plus it came with wings, which are always good for escapes. "Can we go back to the camp, or are you still busy laughing? We need to start planning and then follow the path the enemy so graciously provided us." Jack chirped to Pico.
Something was actually right with Pico, not wrong. He'd needed this relief of tension. This reason to let go. And Jack... Jack continued to make it hard to control this overwhelming amusement... this warmth inside that had nothing to do with rut-stimulated hormones. Jack had shifted into a parrot, now able to speak. And squawk. Perched directly overhead, no less...
... which made Pico gag a little, when he thought of what birds did to freshly-washed cars. Not that he resembled an automobile, in any way... not that he was even freshly-washed, not having bathed in the last two days, due solely to the lack of means, in the place he'd traveled, on the other side of the gate he'd passed through so recently. Just... he still felt like a target, after Jack-bird's chatter. But he felt too good to feel angry. His heart beat strong and able. His ragged breathing calmed, somewhat. And he regained his feet, eyes turned up towards Jack...
... "Rat nads are my favorite food, when they're deep-fried and dipped in wasabi sauce." A moment's consideration, and Pico stepped aside a bit, so his upturned face woundn't make such a perfect target... "I did instruct you to turn into something small and portable, but you obviously didn't understand the words 'small' and 'portable'... so I had to be specific, and 'rat' was the first thing that came to mind." A wave of claws... "Besides, if I can't threaten a guy with the loss of his nads, can I really call that person... friend?"
Pico looked in the direction of their abandoned camp, towards where he'd left his pack, while his subhands straightened his toolbelt over his hips and tailroot...
... "As for camp and planning?... yes, we still have work to do." A grin up at Jack-bird... "I do hope you can find a shovel... unless you like the smell of unfresh dead-things, and... ahem!... sleeping with flies. I can imagine better bed-partners, myself...."
"You have weird tastes in foods my friend." Jack said and ruffled his feathers. He opened his beak in amusement as he watched Pico step away from directly under him. What did he think he was going to do, barf on him? "Instruct? Lets see...what was the word...ah yes, ordered quickly and without explanation. ARRRRACK! Reminds me of a certain one star general, general." Jack replied. He cackled at what Pico had said next and even repeated a few words. "Friend, friend." He replied bobbing his head up and down. "I...hate...being...a damn house parrot!" Jack thought and mentally slapped himself for turning into a parrot. "SQUUUUUAAAAWWK! Sorry about that, I'm forced to talk this way if I want to speak at all.
"That be like me threatening to choke you to death and then calling you a friend all day. AAAARRRRRAAWK! As long as you don't go through with the threats, through with the threats." Jack told him and whistled. He tried to slap himself to quit being...such a parrot, but have you ever tried slapping yourself upside the head with wings? It was like being slapped with feathers, which was actually what it was. He also looked towards the campsite before taking off and circling above Pico. "I don't need no stinkin' shovel. That's what claws were made for. Come on, I'm eager to start the planning." Jack chirped down to Pico and flew through the trees and over the campsite. He circled a few times before landing down on the ground with a flutter of wings. He quickly turned into a Raccoon colored Badger, and walked off the campsite and started to dig. After a few minutes a large hole had been made. He quickly morphed back into a human and walked over to one of the bodies.
"You plan anything on how to eliminate the tanks yet? I'm thinking of sabotage myself." Jack said and grunted. He dragged a body to the hole and dumped him in. He turned back into a badger and started to push the dirt back into the hole.
Stray thoughts passed through Pico's head... vivid sensations passed through Pico's feet... crashed into those stray thoughts, and formed memories out of humid air and vegetative scents. A moment spent hovering in warm fuzzies, flavors awash over his tongue, every move of muscle, every breath, feeling... feeling new and fresh and...
... a shake of head, to clear the fuzz and bring his stray thoughts into line, before he took a step forward... and tripped over his own feet. Now was not the time to float in a sensory/memory daze!
Jack-bird had flown off. Pico quickly followed after, back to their camp, and to the business at hand. Jack-bird was now Jack-badger, digging a grave. Pico got just as busy digging his own burial hole, far enough away to not interfere, but close enough to see and hear. In the time Jack-badger had dug his hole, Pico had dug a deeper hole for the second corpse, to make sure no predators came calling in the night. So...
... when Jack-human spoke, and asked his question, Pico had been well down in his hole. Not a problem, though. With a powerful leap, Pico easily cleared the grave, shook off moist earth and dry, then gave Jack a sideways look, before he also claimed his corpse and tossed it in the freshly dug grave. A look, down on all sixes, to see that the corpse had made it down proper... a snort, a lifted leg and a good long pee into the hole, just to leave a message... then Pico turned his attention again towards Jack, now Jack-badger once more, an expression of thought on his alien face...
... "I'd rather avoid the tanks... I have this thing about being blown to pieces by cannon-fire... and I don't... I don't like the idea of getting crushed, either." A small shudder, a brief image of his mother, burried under tons of fallen rock... "I'd rather deal with the humans in those tanks." Pico started shoveling the earthpile back into the grave...
... "First thing... I'd like more details on the people we're dealing with. Numbers, goals... anything you know." A pause, subhand and primehand claws playing in the dirt... "If anything, we could use one of those tanks as a cover, so the others will lead us where we need to go. I'd rather run intelligence first, waste a minimum of time and energy with acts of annoyance. Better would be finding a way to take them down in... what is that expression?... One Fell Swoop.........?"
Jack listened to Pico's words as he patted the last of the dirt with his paws. He morphed back into his human form and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Yes, being blown to bits does have its drawbacks doesn't it?" A light smile appeared. Jack walked over to the chair and sat down. His right index scratched the stubble on his chin as he watched Pico. "The ones inside the tanks could always be replaced. Taking the tanks out would ensure they wouldn’t be used anymore. The way I see it we have two choices. Take the people in the tanks out before they reach the base and sabotage them all except for maybe one, or we can wait until they reach the base and destroy them there. Unless you can think up any more choices, I prefer to go with the first one." Jack said after a period of thought.
Pico wanted all the information Jack had on the terrorists, and it was not a problem for Jack. "Not including the men in the tanks and the forest destroyer...it's estimated to about fifty to seventy-five men. The satellite was able to capture a good part of the force but couldn't pinpoint exactly how many. Once they went into the jungle the satellite couldn't pick them up anymore. These are terrorists, plain and simple. They think, live and breathe terrorism. They are well trained in the use of any kind of explosive, RPG's, and most guns. They seem to favor the AK-47 a lot, and RPG's are very second nature to them. Most have knives on them, usually hidden from sight. Once we hit them, don't be surprised to see a few strapped with explosives running into the jungle and setting themselves off. They'd do anything to kill Americans such as myself. Like I said, they think we're dogs and don't deserve to live. They believe that by taking their own lives and killing us, it will grant them many favors in their 'heaven'. Whether this is actually true or not, it gets to me." Jack informed Pico. He started to think about anything he left out.
His eyes lit up for a few seconds when he remembered some important info. "Their base will be big, probably camouflaged so anything in the air can't pick them up, and it will be heavily guarded at all times. They will have a few makeshift buildings built out of whatever they could find lying around, so basically look for huts and the tents they sleep in. Weapons and explosives will be visible and most likely lined up for easy accessibility. Those tanks will most likely be parked in defensive positions if we don't stop them before they get there. Why they are in this jungle we don't know. We suspect them of moving here to remain hidden, and could be setting up the first phase of constructing a new base for their HQ. They will definitely have other out posts like the one we're in right now spread out across a wide area. They want to know a threat is coming before it has a chance to find and surprise them. I don't doubt it one bit that we'll run into at least another one along the way." Jack said and took a deep breath and blew it out loudly.
"Running intelligence first is something we'll definitely need to do. One fell swoop is something we need to accomplish if we hope to make it out without any injuries. So…anything else you want to know about our targets?" Jack asked as he hunched forward.
Pico went back to burrying his corpse. As he rapidly shoveled dirt with his claws, he listened closely... didn't interrupt... finished his task, with Jack's final end-question still in his ears and mind. His last action, after all the dirt was back where it belonged? Like a dog rolling over something nasty, Pico rolled his whole body over the grave, not only to press down the dirt, but to rub his scent all over the freshly dug soil. That done, he shook off the mess... yes, he'd removed his toolbelt beforehand, and set it aside. However, he did not put it back on, now that he was done. No, he carried it over, and set it by his pack, then turned to Jack, some of the damp jungle soil... and bits of vegetation... still clinging to his hide. All three eyes focused intently on the human shifter, as he settled on his haunches before Jack, his expression very thoughtful...
... "I have one major problem with your desire to blow these tanks... such actions would alert them to our attack, loosing us the element of surprise. I hunger to know more about their numbers... if we take out these, are there more? Others... who will simply take their place? Where do they get their weapons, and from who? How isolated is this group... and what is their means of communication? Tanks can't run without drivers or fuel. If these terrorists are isolated far enough from help... if we cut first communication, then supply... take out fuel and ammo, once we have them cut off, then they will have no chance to survive." A snort and half-grin...
... "We have one advantage already in our favor... I'm not American. What is that saying?... Fear can be a powerful motivator...? I doubt they're expecting such a creature as me. If they have any superstitions, I can play the monster... very well."
Pico then relaxed, stretched out on all sixes... sniffed himself... sniffed towards Jack... and then commented...
... "First thing needed?... we could both use a bath."
Jack sighed and hung his head low, his eyes looking down at the dirt. "Ya...there are more...a lot more. This is just the advance team, headed by a high-ranking terrorist that goes by many different names. So many, that no one but him knows his real name. We just call him the Ghost. One moment he's there, then the next he disappears. He blends in with any environment, and can get to almost anywhere he desires. So far the camp uses radios to communicate with everyone on their team. They can't talk to any one else outside of this jungle yet, but they'll be able to pull that off soon unless we stop them. They get their weapons from the black market mostly. They also steal them, and buy them from other willing countries that want to make a buck and hate the U.S. If we take these out, yes, there are many more to take their place, but at least we'll have cut them off from setting up shop inside this jungle." Jack answered and pondered over the tanks and Pico's suggestion.
"Weeeeell, I wouldn't really be blowing them up. Just killing the men inside and totally destroying their tanks, but, they might start shooting, and shooting always alerts some morons in a camp unknown to us, so I guess no sabotaging...for now. Yes, cutting them off would be a very effective way of killing them, but it will also be slow. We need to take them all out in one big swoop. If we take those things away, they'll know there is someone else around, and we need the element of surprise. For us to pull taking those things away, we would have to make it look like accidents. Oops, did someone accidentally smoke near the gasoline tanks? Oops, did someone forget to cover all of the food? Get where I'm going with this?" Jack asked and a wide smile appeared.
"Only thing to fear is fear itself. No, I doubt they'd expect something like you. Just be careful though, its ether fight or flight, and some might choose to pull the trigger on you. I think we'll use your appearance and the night a lot. Many night visits coming up. Perhaps we can get 'monster' on their minds before we blow everything to bits." Jack then sniffed his armpits and drew his head back. "Agreed." Jack replied and stood up. "I don't suppose you can smell any watering holes or even a waterfall around here? This jungle is big enough to have all kinds of water sources." Jack explained and tried to listen for the sound of running water, but the forest calls distorted every sound that his human ears could pick up.
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