Jack had been unusually quiet for the rest of the day while the group planned, watching each member of their new-founded crew with the trained eye of a veteran observer. Chris was still his top priority, but the nagging feeling that he knew these people kept popping back up. It was as if he had grown up being read a fairytale, and now the characters were before him. Desmond's journal had been his only comfort the past few months.. Perhaps he was simply going crazy? No, no.. He had seen crazy. If anything, he was much too sane. He had no mental occlusion to shield him from the brunt of reality. Back in the present, he listened as Matt laid out the plan. The guy was a good leader, he could give him that. Conversely, Jack was more than a bit rusty after being alone for so long. But on the other hand, so far he had only seen Matt during - or right before - combat operations. Perhaps he was different when [i]not[/i] in the heat of the moment? When it didn't involve guns or a tangible enemy? He would have to see.

"I can do that," he nodded, fairly confident in his ability to handle a rifle, before looking around at the area surrounding the Slaver camp. Mineral was such a small town that Jack - formerly Congressman Marino - had never even heard of it. And from the look of the area, there wasn't much in the town itself that would serve as a good camp for the night. However as he looked, he noted one building with a particularly good vantage point, just far enough away so as not to alert the enemy. He gestured toward the two story white building.
"That Post Office over there might be our best bet. I figure we're probably better indoors for the night, since a fire may catch their eyes."