”What's the ETA” Magpies voice sounded in his audiounit and the breach expert answered. ”Not long. About 2 kilomoters trough one of the worlds most hostile territories.” He answered as the tracker lit up on his heads up display. Cheetah confirmed this with Jackal before continuing, sending him a the cordinates he was recieving to him. ”Our target is still at the compound. Then there was brief flicker on his screen and the tracker moved slightly. Targets on the move, not fast enough to be by car... Is he.. going by foot?”

The jungle crunched under their feet and bugs scuttered about around their boots. The humid air stuck to their skin in a instant, as vibrant green rose to be both a roof over their head, a floor under their feet and terribly poorly placed carpeting to hinder their passage. As Jackal and spectre took point, they would discover that there were plenty of suprises ahead. They had only made it a little short of hundred meters, before they found a rather freshly dug out foxhole. The hastily but well made improv fortification showed signs of recent use. A camoflauge netted, metal covering lay next to it. While unoccupied, it had a small stash of ammuntions neatly piled in a makeshift pocket at chest height. More noticibly, there lay a Gustav Recoiless Rifle in place and a whole lot of large packaged of white ”Bricks”. By all signs, whoever stationed this cashe spot had been here recently, most likely having forgotten to put the 'lid' back on. 

As the good doctor sent his drones out, they would buzz and take to the air. One stuck to the roof of the canopy, well out of the way, and while partially covered, it afforded little vision itself. It did however, spot anything hiding in the trees. The second drone flew lower, keeping pace with the rear guard but covered their flanks as it buzzed back and forth. As the data streamed in, the man would get readings on everything around them. IT was due to this, they discovered another anomoly.   Razor wire and trip wire riddles the forest in places. The entire area was full of it. 

”Jesus.. They rigged the place.” Cheeta carefully stepped over a tripwire as he saw another net and lid. He hunched over and lifted it. ”Another installation. I am guessing this a emergency stash for a Cartel officer.” He said. ”Saw the same  in Brazil. IF things go south, they scamper off, use the money and coke as liquid funds, take a little unit of loyal men and squat outside the hotzone.” He eyed the munition hidden underneath the lid. ”From the looks of it, these are freshly stocked. Maybe they are expecting the hammer to come down now that their boss grabbed someone really important.”