Elro felt the soft bumps travel through his body as the off road jeeps ran along the rough dirt road, further into the centre of the island it was a bit more civilised , but here everything is pre-historic. The jeeps interior was too cramped for him, so all the windows were open, sure the grit blew in with the wind, but it calmed his nerves.

In the centre of the convoy, his jeep was a dark brown unlike all the other pale yellow jeeps that surrounded it, but all the vehicles whipped dirt into the air. Fourteen men and four jeeps, two motorcycles. This was more than enough to deal with the situation, as well as take the salvage back to base.

Taking his dagger from his belt, Elro began to pick the pork from between his teeth, scraping across a molar and between his front teeth. As they drew nearer he signalled the drive to stop and he hit his horn so that the others did so too, the motor carried on though – as they were meant to – to take up a sniping position.

While they owned the island, the law enforcement on the main land were determined to crush them. They have a small fort on the opposite island that has proved impossible to conquer, after many attempts the group have met nothing but a hailstorm of bullets and an impossibly large concrete wall.

Wiping such thoughts from his mind Elro stepped out of the jeep and walked towards the beach, breaking through the trees he saw the planes smoke from behind the rock formation a mile down the sand. The jeeps drove through the trees and onto the beach.

“Out! We walk from here!” He commanded.

Taking his pistol in hand, he strolled along the beach on this sunny day, the sand beneath his feet and salvage before him.