Daniel Folten: Cuban Forrest
March 14, 1981
Hours: ClassifiedIt had been hours since their departure from their temporary camp site. The sun had already set, leaving them to depend on their eyesight in hopes they didn't step anywhere that would cause them trouble. It had to have been at least 2am by the time they ever thought about being close to the crash plane sight. All they had on them were their combat knives and the bloodied clothes on their backs. Somehow Bell's water canister managed to survive the day, and they took turns trying to drink as little as possible in an effort to conserve. As they journeyed through the forest Bell began to feel nauseous.
"Do you ever get Déjà Vu? I mean do you ever get Déjà Vu and begin to realize it lasts longer than it should?" Bell questioned."Not often, why?" Park asked.
"I've been experiencing it recently. It's gotten worse as I got further into the day. Back at the compound, when you were talking with Hastings.... Tell me you saw that TV flicker on and off too. Tell me I'm not going insane. It almost feels like I'm somewhere else, like I'm not real...." He trailed off. "And it terrifies me." He admitted, stopping in his tracks as he said that last sentence. "Park, I don't know what's going on with my mind." He said, sounding panicked and desperate.
She sighed feeling guilty. Adler would kill her if she were to ever tell Bell about who he really was.... what he really was. "Hang in there for a bit longer, we're almost there. Once we make contact with Adler, everything will be alright." She faked a smile trying to reassure him. Part of it she suspects was to reassure herself too.
They kept moving when they saw an odd figure in the distance. Bell had to squint his eyes so his vision could adjust to see it. "That's a piece of the plane! Come on!" He motioned for Park to follow. They stumbled upon two other pieces until they finally found what they believed to be part of the cockpit. Bell was about to rush to find the radio when Park interrupted him.
"Bell!" Park said quietly, pulling his arm back. "Enemies, I count at least three, there may be more, it's too dark to tell."
"You think you're up for some stealth?"
"I wouldn't be much help." She said motioning to her arm.
"I got this, stay low." He said, taking his knife out of it's pocket.
Bell watched as the two men went inside the piece of the crashed plane, one of them carrying a dimly lit flashlight. Unfortunately it wasn't bright enough to tell Bell who he was up against, probably the same Tropas who shot them down to begin with. As the other two disappeared, there was one left outside to keep watch. Bell began to creep up behind the man and managed to knock the Ak-47u he was carrying out of his hands, covering his mouth,preparing for a silent kill. However the night didn't serve in Bell's favor like he was counting on. The man quickly loosened himself of Bell's grip and spun around quickly whipping out his own knife and slashing Bell across the face, adding to the cuts and slashes he recently received. As Bell stumbled back in pain, he dropped his own weapon. He tried to knock his opponent off balance with a right hook to the temple, but ultimately left his ribs exposed. Dodging Bell's poorly aimed swing, his opponent landed a punch right in Bell's sore ribs, causing him to stumble even more and falling on his side, wincing in pain.
Knowing he blew his stealth, he heard the other two men rushing outside to see what all the rustling noise was about. This time they both had flashlights and shined them in Bell's face."Bell?!"
He knew that voice.
"Woods?" Bell asked, putting up a hand to block the light from shining in his eyes.
"Told you he was still alive, nobody can kill him." Woods said to Adler, who was also holding a flashlight.
"My bad, Bell. We've been looking for you and Park for hours." Mason said, offering Bell a hand up.
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