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Her hair flowed freely in the breeze like a clichéd moment in a romance novel but unfortunately for her there was nothing romantic about her situation. Her clothing had been reduced to nothing but bloodstained shreds and her lifeless body hung freely from the tree branch. The cable around her neck had been pulled so taut that it had cut deep into her neck leaving her exposed chest coated in her own blood. Her only relief would be that she was dead as her remains showed that living in the apocolypse would have been a hellish torment. A cardboard sign scrawled in an almost childlike handwriting read [i]slut[/i] as it hung from her neck like some sort of sick joke. 

Robert moved the scope of his rifle onto several nearby corpses, each hanging much in the same way as the unfortunate lady. The corpses of men had been desecrated through dismemberment while the women all bbre signs of extreme torture with hints of unbelievable suffering. Rob gritted his teeth hard as he reigned back his anger, needing to keep his cool. He began to count the number of living [i]people[/i] in the encampment that lay before him. From his vantage point he spotted a total of ten men, all donning similar motorcycle style vests. No clear markings or insignia were on the plain, black leather vests to give an indication to any allegiance beyond themselves. Either way, they weren't to be of the world for much longer.

Two men stood guard at the entrance to the clearing they occupied with a further two wandering around the forested perimeter. Four other men sat on logs around a small fire while the final two emerged from a tall, domed tent towards the back of the camp. The pair emerged from the tent each held an ankle of a lifeless female body devoid of any clothing. Her body was cut to pieces and through his cope the satisfied grins of the pair were beyond disturbing. Robert was not a religious man but even if God did exist, there was no way he would wait for him to descend from the heavens to pass judgement. Today Rob was judge, jury and executioner.

Raising his finger to his head Robert began to whisper softly, [color=ff5555]"Team 1...perimeter guards and the entrance...Team 2...campfire...I have the two at the back...on my mark."[/color] In his ear two voices came through, [color=c4df9b]"Got it,"[/color] closely followed by, [color=fff79a]"Yes sir."[/color] Moving his scope so that the first of his targets was in sight, Rob spoke one final time. [color=ff5555]"Fire."[/color]

Robert wrapped his finger around his rifle's trigger before unleashing his pent up anger through a satisfying trigger pull. The rifle kicked into his shoulder as its bipod rested on a felled tree. The bullet emerged from the suppressed barrel of the gun accompanied by the muted sound the Welshman had become so used to over the years. Before Rob even had time to blink the man in his sight dropped to the floor like a lead balloon. His body fell awkwardly into a crumpled heap, blood pouring from a cavernous hole in his skull. The man's partner looked down in shock as he tried to wipe away the blood and brain matter that has sprayed onto his face. Realising what had happened he began to claw at the inside of his jacket, presumably to draw his weapon. Before he had the chance however the embrace of death ensnared him and he fell dead to the floor with his friend. Without hesitating Rob began to scan the surrounding area through his scope, catching sight of the final pair around the camp fire collapse. Soon the voices returned to Robert's ear and each confirmed that their targets had been taken down, allowing Rob to lower his rifle. 

To his left was a bag through which he searched, pulling out a long distance radio. He turned it on and began to speak. [color=ff5555]"Spectre this is Ghost..."[/color] A couple of seconds past before a thick, southern American accent came back to him. [color=a187be]"Ghost this is Spectre, hearing you loud and clear."[/color] Watching on as he saw his team emerge into the clearing below, Robert responded. [color=ff5555]"Spectre...the Harpies are down. I repeat...the Harpies are down. The Argonauts are looking for the Golden Fleece."[/color] The code names were simple enough but necessary just in case anyone managed to hijack their communications. [color=a187be]"Ok Ghost. Confirm on status of the fleece when you know the situation and then get back to Greece. Over and out."[/color] Rob returned his radio to his bag before packing up his equipment and meeting up with his squad below.

By time he arrived the bodies that had once hung from the trees had been cut down and carefully placed in a line. The bodies of the raiders had been left contorted where they fell ready to be feasted on by whatever wildlife stumbled onto them first. A middle age woman with camouflage paint spread across her face approached with large rucksack. She opened it in front of Robert allowing him to peer in. The bag was filled to the brim with bottles of various pills. [color=ff5555]"Good job Rook."[/color] The woman smiled, [color=fff79a]"Cheers boss."[/color] Stretching his arms out wide Rob arched his back before raising his voice. [color=ff5555]"We've got we came for. Let's get back."[/color] A chorus of voices followed acknowledging the order before the group headed back into the forest to return to their bikes. 

[color=ff5555]"Spectre, we have the fleece. I repeat, we have the fleece. We are heading back now. ETA thirty minutes."[/color]

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