Val Verde South America, 1987…

His heart pounded. He, Dutch, Poncho, and some female prisoner from the Guerrilla camp were all that was left. Dillon had stayed behind in search of Mac, but it was obvious he was as good as dead. They were running from some strange creature whose origins were unknown to them, but could cloak completely with the surrounding jungle and had a lust for slaughtering man. In less than two days, one by one, Hawkins, Blain, and Mac were all dead, and Poncho injured. And inside himself, Billy felt it was partially his fault.

He had sensed the creature up in the trees, looking down at them, watching them, just before Hawkins had been killed off. Dutch had stood beside him then, and Billy had told him of his feeling, but done nothing save that. We shouldn't have let him go alone! He swore at himself as he remembered the girl trying to escape and Hawkins chasing after her. To think moments before, they had been joking around and laughing together, something rarely anyone to make Billy do…

The four carefully started walking across a fallen log, over a large river, Billy taking up the rear, when suddenly a scream of pain tore through the jungle. Dillon…

His mind was made up. To keep running would mean death for them all and so would facing the thing head on. If he couldn't make retribution for not only his team's, but his friends' deaths, then fine, but he wouldn't die a coward and would make retribution for not trying to stop the creature in the first place. For not shooting it down from above and stopping all of this from happening. Most importantly, it could by the others time.

Billy dropped his pack into the rushing waters below, followed by tossing his rifle down as well. He turned back toward the other end of the log.

"Billy," he heard Dutch say from behind him as he shrugged off his vest, letting it fall, "Billy, let's go!" He could hear the urgency in his friend's voice. He allowed his silence to answer for him, not daring to turn around. Dutch should understand.

Assuming they had gone, Billy yanked off his leather necklace and wrapped it around his hand tightly, holding on to the last bit of his life, of his home, and praying she'd be alright. His face was as hard as stone; he refused to let emotion show, not now.

He drew out his machete slowly, breathing carefully. Steadily, he swiped a large cut on his chest, hoping the scent of blood might draw the creature near him and that it will accept his challenge of a fair fight.

He knew the thing was nearby. He waited, but not long. The log shook from impact as something large landed on it. It took a second to balance himself. Billy heard the sound of clicking, then saw something like sparks seem to fly off from thin air about two yards ahead of him. A creature nearly eight feet tall with dreadlocks and a metal mask covering his face appeared before him. It had small skulls and armor decorating different areas on its body.

For awhile, the pair stared at one another, observing each other. A pair of sharp blades shot out from the thing's wrists. And then the fight began.

Weeks Later...

Dutch sat in his truck, waiting at the front of a one-story brick home. Two weeks ago, he was in Val Verde, fighting Guerrilla's on a fake rescue mission. His entire team had perished and only a female Guerrilla soldier named Anna and himself made it out alive, and just barely. He had resigned from military work almost right after, and was only allowed to do so due to one thing, or rather person.

A little six year-old girl rushed out of the door, wearing a blue camo backpack and holding a teddy bear in one hand. She had long, brown hair, dark brown eyes, and lightly tanned skin. "Uncle Dutch!" she squealed as she ran around to the driver's side and yanked open the door, hoping up and hugging him. He wasn't her real uncle, but he was practically family to her. They had spoken to one another often over the phone or by letter.

Hugging her, Dutch chuckled slightly, "It's good to finally see you in person, Nina. You're just as pretty in real life as you are in your pictures, but you're taller than I imagined." He had come to pick her up from her foster home. He was now, her legal guardian. Her mother had died when she was two and her father was gone as well.

A woman came outside, carrying a baby boy on her hip. After packing a couple more of Nina's bags in the back and a short conversation with the woman, Nina had propped herself up in the passenger's seat and buckled up, swinging her legs back and forth. Dutch rejoined her in the truck and started driving off.

Nina looked excitedly from him to the window over and over again. There was a long silence before anyone spoke. "Is Daddy coming home too?"

Dutch looked at her expectant face, then quickly back to the window, "Don't worry, you'll see him again. Although, I don't know when."

"Oh."

After a moment, Dutch said, "How about a story, to pass the time? You like those right? Anyway, it's about a friend of mine. He was a role-model, a leader, and a hero." Nina nodded, already listening intently.

Dutch sighed, "Ok… Here it goes:

"It was a very hot time of the year, just like this one, but where we were it was multiplied by ten. My friend and I were on a team of four guys. We were all in the jungle, and we were fighting a bunch of bad guys, trying to rescue a group of people who were kidnapped, but when we got there, there weren't any, just one girl who we thought might give us some…help.

"Later that day, my friend had taken the lead of the team, trying to lead us back to the choppa we had waiting for us a long way away. He saw something in the trees, and we all stopped, knowing it must be something important, even though none of the rest of us could see it.

"…We wound up finding out it was a monster. It was huge, with claws and mandibles, but other than that very man-like. It attacked us, one by one, and we tried to fight it off. We set traps, shot our guns, did all we could, but it didn't work. Four of us were already gone and one hurt, so my friend tried to stop the thing alone so we could get away." He paused before continuing, "He didn't beat it either.

"The one of us that was hurt got shot later on. I told the girl to run away and I distracted the monster. It chased me down off a cliff and into a big lake by a waterfall. I quickly dragged myself up onto dry land, but the monster jumped into the water behind me before I could rest. Now, at this point, I was covered in mud, and backed into a big rock with stringy sticks and plants. I saw the monster approach me, it aimed it gun, but it shot something else. It couldn't see me because of the mud."

Nina giggled, finding that funny. Dutch gave a sad, half-smile and went on. "In the end, I wound up winning and beat the monster, but it blew up a lot of the jungle with some type of bomb before dying. If it wasn't for my friend sacrificing himself for us, I might not still be here. If I know him though, he must've fought that thing like a mad dog. He was a fighter. He was brave, fearless, and caring. He had the heart of a true soldier, and if he hadn't fought the thing probably might have made it on his own. I couldn't thank him enough for that. I would've died otherwise."

Nina watched him, silent and wondering where he was getting at. He wouldn't cry, but Dutch turned his saddened gaze to her, "Nina, that man was your father."

It took her a few seconds for reality to strike. She looked down, at risk of crying herself. All was silent again. Finally, taking an educated guess and using her knowledge of who all her father had spent his time with in the army, she whispered, "The others?"

Dutch nodded, "I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "I miss them too, and I know your father would've stayed with you if he could, but he's watching over you now and he won't take his eyes off you. He still loves you, Nina."

She nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had all the best traits of her parents; her mother's beauty, voice, and kindness, her father's resolve, compassion, stubbornness, and skill. She even developed traits after speaking to some of the other men when she was able to contact them; Dillon's cunning, Hawkin's ability to light up any situation, Mac's and Blain's loyalty.

Pulling the truck over at a run-down diner, he unbuckled and picked Nina up, setting her on his lap. She hugged him tightly and cried into his shirt. He hugged her back, allowing them both time to morn their fallen comrades and family.