Nicholas Grayeson
The team had been in the tropical foliage for a few hours, trekking along a route that SATCOM had provided beforehand for his team. Some he noted were former special operations, others were prior military, and a few were contractors. An effective team was established by their mysterious employers from the dossier he was issued at their staging point. The mission was simple for him: protect the personnel, conduct reconnaissance, and escalate direct actions to neutralize the InGen operations. They were all provided equipment of their choosing, some chose high-end tech that the employers provided. He decided to opt for his own, trusted equipment he had utilized throughout his years. When their briefing was over, they mounted on insertion boats and made their way offshore to Isla Delmar. From there, they made their way deeper into the jungle from the East before the morning sun.
The movement wasn’t terribly slow, but for those who weren’t use to humid environments, it seemed like a death march. He and a few others who were prior special operations managed without much difficulty, same for the former military; but the pure contractors were sluggishly trailing at the end. Due to their lack of acclimation, they were assigned as rear guard and the rest comprised of the main force save for two front scouts. Everything slowly came to a halt as his front most scout signaled a halt, following down the line to the rear guard. Making his way quickly, but quietly to the front; he passed two members of the team as they discussed moving forward. Over the chatter, someone made mention of an “Owen” wanting to see what was ahead. Following the duo as they came to an opening, not much could be seen due to the thick, early morning fog that enveloped the area. But what caught his eye was the massive beast that lay before them on its side. Dropping to a knee and taking in the sheer size of the monstrosity, he listened as the others mention it was a hybrid of two different animals. Rumors had echoed through the intelligence channels of InGen’s cloning procedures; but nothing about their genetic manipulation or research.
“Hit-Man Actual, this is Hit-Man 1-3.” a voice buzzed in his ear piece.
“This is Hit-Man Actual, receiving.” he responded, pressing down on the receiver clipped to his plate carrier.
“Hit-Man Actual, Hit-Man 2-2 is reporting movement from our 4 o’clock. BREAK. Bearing down on our position at 48khm. Over.” the voice responded, giving a clear message.
“Hit-Man 1-3, Hit-Man Actual acknowledges. Have Hit-Man 2-2 keep tabs on that movement, we will break from the AO. Over.” he responded.
“Roger Hit-Man Actual, Hit-Man 1-3 out.”Turning his attention back to the group gawking at the enormous creature, he turned to his nearest scout and motioned to start moving towards the Northeast. Without hesitation, the man nodded his head and started his creep in the direction his superior indicted. Removing his boonie, he wiped the sweat collecting on his brow before placing it back on his head; followed with moving closer to the trio before him.
“Gents, we have to cut it short. We have tangos moving in on our location and we need to clear out before they arrive.” he said to the others in a low, calm voice.
Turning his back to the three men and the animal, he rested on his knee and kept watch for the others of the team moving out of their current location. Sticking the butt-stock of his rifle into his shoulder socket, he watched intently in the foliage that was foreign to them. Though they were careful with their movements, it’s not too surprising there was a patrol heading to their position. But what struck odd to him is the timing of the patrol was too coincidental to their arrival. Could they have tripped a detector once they arrived on the island or were they being tracked somehow? Either way, it didn’t feel right to him and he kept his eyes scanning on the jungle. He had been in ambushes before, on both sides of that coin, and he didn’t feel like being in one again.
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