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Chapter Three

The morning came slow and steady, bringing with it the warm smile of the sun over the a****n forest. The trees swayed to the rhythm of the cold wind that blew across from the east.

Cory was up, calculating their supposed distance from the supposed location of the Brazilian military. The grass he sat on was soaked with dew, and probably a few centimeters of rain- he could tell that by the muddy earth which they’d slept on.

“Didn’t expect you to be awake.” Was the first thing Kurt said as he opened his eyes, looking at Cory.

“The birds woke me.” he smiled.

They both listened to the chirping of birds from the top of the trees.

“well, lucky you, bird man.” Kurt said standing up from the mud. He looked at his khakis and groaned. Most of him was covered in mud. “oh shit.”

Cory’s face gradually grew pink as he watched Kurt try to clean the mud from his khakis. His cheeks swelled with air until he couldn’t help it. He threw his head back and let out a loud shriek.

“Yeah laugh all you want.” Kurt eased, walking away from the group.

The sudden shriek woke the rest of the group from their slumber.

“What’s this Cory?” Leigh asked, standing.

Cory regained himself, wiping the tears from his eyes. He pointed in the direction Kurt had taken. They looked at him.

“Kurt.” He said.

Tyler rolled her eyes. She stood up, brushing a strand of hair that lied crazily across her eyes. “I don’t even wanna know.” She said.

A few moments later, Kurt walked in, dripping wet. “well, I found water.”

                                             ****************************

Thousands of miles north of the a****n, in the eastern part of the United States, a conference was in motion in the Pentagon, as high ranked military officials sat opposite each other across a long mahogany table looking at a large screen t.v that had a well outlined map of the a****n forest. There was about twelve important personalities in the room including the secretary of state of the United States and the elder brother of the president of the United States, Major General William Robinson who stood in front of every one in the room.

He wiped the bead of sweat that ran along his right temple.

Nothing was going according to plan. There he was, standing in front of highly placed people in the modern society, with the chance of loosing seven of his best men, one of them just happened to be his son.

The mission was bad already, the men he had deployed had no idea of what they were sent to fight, not even those with him had the full knowledge of what they were up against. He had withheld more than enough information from every soul involved.

He pulled his jacket off and placed it on the chair in front of him. He cleared his throat, wiping his palms on his straight black trousers. He wasn’t sure if anyone noticed how sweaty he was or the fear that displayed dominantly in his eyes. He coughed.

“According to reports, this,” he pointed to a part of the map. “is where we last had contact with our men. And this,” he pointed to another part of the map. “is where they were dropped at.” he glanced away from them, pretending like he had missed something on the map.

“We don’t know much,” he continued, returning his attention to those with him. “but we do know that they only have enough supplies to last them three days.” He adjusted his collar and sat, staring intently at no one in particular.

“What then do you suppose we do General?” Colonel Martin Parker asked, filling his glass with the bottle of water on his side of the table.

“That’s why this meeting was called Colonel.” the General replied. “we  don’t know where they are.” he sighed and bowed his head. This was mission impossible.

There was a lengthening silence. The tension in the room grew with every passing second. The General remembered sitting in his living room when the call came in. It had sounded urgent, and General Robinson had hopped into his car, racing.

Someone coughed in the room.

The General sighed. He pressed his fingers against his temples, eyes closed and head shaking.

“We know where they’re going don’t we?” this time, it was the Secretary of State, Mrs Emma Grant that asked the question, breaking the silence.

General Robinson looked up at her, there was a glint of hope in his eyes. Yes, they did know where they were supposed to go.

He pushed back against his chair and stood, looking at the map, scanning for clues. He traced his finger across the screen and a drew a circle with his index finger. He stabbed the invincible ring and smiled. He turned to face the others.

“This,” he pointed to the spot he’d traced. “is where they’re headed.”

“Where exactly?” the Colonel questioned.

“They’re going towards the Brazilian camp.” he sat. “We can’t reach them.” a pause. He continued. “we don’t know where they are, but we know where they’re heading.”

“How sure are we that they’ll go there?” another General asked.

The General smiled. “I know my men.”

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