Specter was inwardly cursing the terrain and the painstakingly slow pace that he and Jackal had to take to avoid the various cunning traps that the cartel members had placed to dissuade hostile, and possibly internal, threats. He felt a toe nearly catch onto a snag, but his quick reflexes had his foot out and back under him before his overbalanced gait could make any noise to disturb wildlife or enemies alike. He huffed to himself, slightly embarrassed that he'd had such a near slip only half a kilometer away from the LZ. Jackal would never let him live that down and Anthony hoped he hadn't noticed. "Just trying to get a bead on the place, [i]amico[/i]. Peace... save that aggression for the task at hand. Or maybe a little carousing in a local cantina, if we've the time." Specter winked at his almost friend, even though the man might be able to see the motion in the low moonlight and the little distance they'd taken from each other, the better to sweep the area.

"Where is he Jackal? What did Cheetah tell ya?" Anthony asked his ally, using the comms device around his tactical collar, barely above a whisper but easily caught on the sensitive microphone. Once again, he marveled at the little gadgets the Devils had at their disposal. He'd never get tired of being outfitted so well. The coordinates popped up on his own display, a small topographical map set to appear whenever Specter wished. These eyes were a life-saver, after all. The target wasn't moving fast, but why was he moving at all? Specter thought the leader would have holed up in a bunker to make Bin-Laden envious. There was no way he didn't suspect a direct attempt on his life any day now. "You're the lead right now, Jackal. Where do you want me? If we find some higher elevation and you scout out an intercept course, one shot from my lady," he jerked his head over his shoulder towards his rifle, "could take care of this mission, done and done."

He carefully circumvented another trap, looking into the rabbit hole with more than passing curiosity. What those drugs could go for at street value... Specter licked his lips in appreciation. He wasn't about to make a switch in professions at this point in the game however, no matter how profitable. He liked the work and disliked the stress that might come about after going from mercenary to drug dealer. However, he wouldn't mind dropping in there and maybe fetching one of those explosives rigged, if he could. Those might prove to be very useful if the situation warranted brash action. He sidestepped the installation, closing on Jackal's six and making their perimeter tighter as the landscape and traps closed in, limiting movement. 

This was a shitty way to do business, that was for sure. He was glad his companion was more experienced in such places than he and had trusted in Jackal the moment he'd joined him on the forward scouting unit. He didn't like having to take his eyes from the edges of brush and tree to check his footing every other moment or so, the inability to keep his head on a constant swivel made him feel slightly insecure and trusted in the Doc's drones to spot out any incoming threats. [i]"Don't fail me now, comrade,"[/i] Specter thought to himself, thinking the last word in the man's own thick accent. That alleviated some of the Italiano's rising tension.