Chapter Two

As soon as Rebecca had checked everyone up and down, making sure there were no injuries, Enrico had immediately had them file out of the helicopter for a report. It was still raining; Rebecca could feel the cold droplets hitting her head, rolling down her neck, wetting her shirt, soaking her pants. Her boots gave a squish sound as they settled into the mud.

"Okay, troops," said Enrico, hair plastered to his forehead, "we've hit a snag, but the situation's the same. This forest is still infested with what we theorize to be cannibal murderers and attack dogs. Now, it's raining, so they may have missed our crash. Then again, they may not. I want everyone to fan out in case of attackers. Richard's long-range radio is out, but if the rain lets up we may be able to take this road back to Racoon. If worst comes to worst, the Alphas will be looking for us in twenty four hours. In that case, I want you to stay at the chopper, Kevin. Now, in case we do come in contact with the murderers, they are to be considered armed and dangerous. I want everyone to get their weapons out of the chopper, now." The members of the team moved to enter the body of the aircraft.

The light was damaged and non-functional. Edward felt at the arms walls, swore in the dark, and pulled his sidearm free. He switched on its light and played the torch about the inside of the chopper. Amid the flying circle of light the STARS could pull their Berettas off the wall. Only Richard and Forest were the odd ones out; Richard had his prized assault shotgun, and Forest had a semi-legal scope on his sidearm that seemed to accentuate his sniper status.

"Hey, Forest!" Enrico called, loading his own weapon. Forest looked over his broad shoulder, high forehead, killer mullet and raping-your-soul crystal eyes downright eerie in the quickly changing shadows. "I want you to take the grenade launcher this time."

Forest rolled his eyes, waving his hand dismissively. An expression of distaste was evident on his features. Rebecca would have been shocked – had been, when she first joined – but Forest and Enrico, Kenneth had told her, went way back. After working together in the field for several years, they knew each other inside and out. They had each others' ticks and idiosyncrasies mapped out perfectly. The common joke was that their hearts beat in unison. Forest could predict Enrico's orders before they came, and Enrico could near read Forest's mind. The vehicle expert gave more respect in a one-fingered salute than conventional versions from the rest of the team together.

Slipping his 9mm reloads into his blue vest, Forest holstered his scoped handgun and slipped the six-shot grenade launcher off the wall. Grabbing some grenades, he loaded the revolver-esque weapon and slipped some belts of the high explosives over his shoulders.

The squad exited the crashed aircraft. One by one the torches on their pistols switched on. Only Forest, who was a real night owl, kept his off for the purpose of stealth. They dispersed, five men and one woman moving outward. Kenneth and Richard, opposite each other, moved along the road.

As the footsteps of his squad faded away, replaced by the rain on the leaves, Enrico swallowed heavily. There was definitely something out there…he didn't know what, but he was a more than experienced official. He could feel it. His steel eyes studied the leaves with scrutiny.

Rebecca moved carefully, choosing her steps among the underbrush. She held her pistol at the ready, playing the light over her surroundings. She heard a rustling to her side, swivelled, and caught a large crow in her sights. It sat on a branch, tilted its head, and looked at her curiously. Rebecca sighed, relaxed slightly, and lowered her pistol. Suddenly the bird moved, and the oversized crow was on a branch beside her. She flinched backwards, but the crow continued to watch her. She closed her eyes and mentally kicked herself. Idiot. When she opened her eyes again, the bird was gone.

Richard's boots squelched in the muddy road. Unprotected by any tree cover, rain fell directly onto his shoulders, running through his orange-blond crew cut. Feeling exposed on the open road, he fiddled with his Kevlar vest. The assault shotgun was heavy in his hands. Feeling self-conscious, he patted his pockets. Buckshot shells clinked.

Forest's cold eyes flicked back and forth. His scoped Beretta was half-ready and his grenade launcher was slung over his shoulder. His broad-shouldered form stepped carefully between two trees, disturbing a spray of droplets. They pattered onto his head. He didn't notice. Suddenly, way off, he thought he saw something moving. It was just a flicker, but he immediately brought his pistol up. Not to shoot – far too long range for that, maybe with a rifle but not with a Beretta – but to peer through the scope. But there was nothing. Just grey rain. Forest frowned and lowered the handgun.

Edward was irritated. That idiot. Kevin had stranded them here, and now it was raining and they couldn't get home and he had water in his boots and…Edward sighed. Nothing could be done about it now. He dropped his arms to his sides, considering his predicament, and felt thorns slash the back of his hand. He cursed, bringing the bleeding member to his mouth. What a great day this was turning out to be.

When Rebecca had just joined the force, Kenneth was quick to take her under his wing. While this was partially because of Kenneth's often fatherly attitude, it was also because Rebecca, in a way, reminded Kenneth of himself. Somewhat new in the field himself, Kenneth often went into missions with his stomach twisted in a knot. It was worse now. With the rain falling in sheets, the chemical expert new he wouldn't be able to hear nor see an attacker unless it was right in front of him. Not to mention that he was in the open on the road, with a bright cone of light showing up perfectly in the falling droplets to mark him. Blinking rain out of his eyes, Kenneth topped a small hill on the road – and instantly dropped, snapping off the torch, to a crouch. He held himself absolutely still, eyes transfixed on what was ahead of him.

Light.

Each of the team's radios vibrated. Everyone else were still taking it off their belts when Enrico had it up to his mouth. "Captain here. What is it, over." He pushed himself against a tree, not eager to be detected while distracted by a report.

"Cap – I've found something interesting. I think you're gonna want to have a look at it, in fact. A truck. Over."

"Please confirm, a truck? Over."

"Exactly. It wasn't a crash, either. One of the doors is open and the light's still on. There's no damage. I can't see anyone inside, though, and it looks recent. It seems unlikely, though, that someone would leave this shelter here unattended, unlocked, in the middle of a storm…at least, not voluntarily. Over."

Enrico was silent for a moment. This was a twist. "Can you get close? Over."

"Well…there's some light spilling out of it, and I don't want to attract fire, but I don't think there's anyone around. Over."

"Get close and see what you can find, but be careful. Over."

"Roger. Over and out."

Kenneth looked about one more time, crouched, and made for the vehicle as quick and as low as possible. Passing into the spilling light, he felt the hair on the back of his neck prick up – and then was at the truck. He jumped inside, switched off the overhead light, and listened. He couldn't hear anything dangerous, but in this weather it would be hard to find anything. After a moment of waiting, Kenneth switched on his pistol's flashlight and played it over the inside of the vehicle. The light played over the steering wheel, the dashboard, the seats –

"Bingo," he whispered.

Enrico's radio vibrated in his hand. He hadn't put it away. He pressed the button and brought it to his ear. "Kenneth again. I've found something you're just going to love. Remember when I told you the door was left open? Well, on the side of the open door, there's blood all over the seats. It's on the dashboard and underneath as well. I found something else, too. Forest's the vehicle guy, of course, but I'm pretty sure that this kind of truck is used for transporting extremely dangerous criminals. Over."

"Exit the truck. Preserve some evidence for us. STARS!" Everyone was listening in on the radio, as per procedure. "I want everyone to head to the truck. Over."

"It's on the road, about four hundred metres north of the mansion, if that helps," Kenneth added earnestly.