Wraith

Chapter 02: Military Compound

Chapter 02: Military Compound

I continued along in the direction of the original boot print I'd discovered near the jungle's edge, and it led me to others. When I realized how easy the trail was to follow, the hairs on the back of my neck jumped to attention. There were two possibilities. First, the man I pursued wasn't expecting trouble and didn't care to cover his tracks. This was far more preferable to the second option; he knew I was here and intended on leading me into a trap.

I dealt with the second possibility by circling around, coming back to the tracks from a different angle, as well as withdrawing temporarily and waiting to see if anyone watching might reveal their presence.

It took almost half an hour to reach the end of the trail of prints. My extra level of caution had doubled the time required, but I felt it had been a worthwhile sacrifice. If I'd been captured or killed, the loss of a few minutes would've paled in comparison. The tracks led straight through the front gate of an eight foot tall chain link fence topped by razor wire. The fence surrounded a military compound nestled discreetly in the heart of the jungle.

Built inside the fence was a single, large building of pale gray concrete. An exhaust pipe twelve feet from the main structure told me there was a considerable part of the building below ground. It was impossible to tell how large the subterranean facility might be. It could have very easily measured larger than the island itself.

My earlier caution paid off when I noticed six guards walking a careful patrol beyond the fencing of the compound. They wore the abstract brown, green, and black of jungle camouflage along with black military boots. Their faces were darkened by stripes of paint to help them blend in more convincingly with their environment. Fully automatic rifles were carried by the guards, and holstered sidearms provided a backup weapon should the need arise.

I crouched under a thick growth of ferns while observing the activity. I considered all the possible reasons for a base to be hidden on a jungle island far from prying eyes, and yet, it was still heavily guarded as if expecting an attack at any moment. There were too many variations for me to deduce their reasoning. I had only one option for discovering their intent; I had to go inside.

In order to prepare a proper approach, I required a better vantage point, but finding one was a tricky undertaking. It needed to have a sufficient view in order to see potential entry points of the base, such as low hanging tree branches that might allow me to circumvent the chain link fence, but knowing the patrol routes of all guards walking a post was also vital. The down side to such a location centered around a basic reality; if I could see the guards, they could see me. I required enough cover to stay hidden, yet not so much as to obscure my vision. A difficult matter, but I decided on the simplest solution.

When one of the patrolling guards passed my fern covered location, I lunged out and wrapped an arm around his neck, dragging him back into the bushes. The man's panic about being seized made him drop his gun, so I didn't have to worry about him firing shots in warning to his comrades. I held tightly, shushing the man quietly. The temptation to dispose of him with a sudden twist of his spinal column entered my mind, but I refrained from killing the guard. I had no knowledge of what occurred on this island, nor any way to discover if this man deserved death or if he was simply following orders with a wife and kids at home. Letting him live was a risk; if he awoke, an alarm could be sounded, but I felt it to be the best course until I had a better awareness of the situation.

After the lack of oxygen to his brain caused the guard to pass out, I lowered him quietly into the grass. He was nearly my size, so I removed his camouflage uniform, finding the face paint in one of his pockets. Doing the best I could manage without a mirror or other reflective surface, I applied a generous amount of the jungle pigments to my face and hair. His belt, supporting the holstered pistol, held an impressive combat knife. I took them both. The uniform was a little tight, but nothing too uncomfortable or hindering. Picking up the guard's rifle, I stepped out into the open.