Boy, did I ever need a vacation. Jim and Eddie, too.

Our last mission was hell, and all we could think about was going somewhere peaceful for a week or two and forgetting all about Special Forces operations.

I don't know whose idea it was, but we were going to this new eco-park in India I'd never heard of.

"Dude, they have paintball," said Jim, waving the flyer at us. "Anywhere with paintball has my vote."

Eddie moaned. "India, okay. Curry, not okay. I'll be in the bathroom the whole time. No curry."

I didn't care. I just wanted to relax and enjoy myself.

The place was gorgeous. We paid extra to rent camping equipment and a private campsite on a rocky outcrop. The helicopter taxi took us up. I slept for 9 hours straight, hot sun streaming in through the blue nylon sides of the tent.

When I woke up, Jim was gone.

"Paintball," said Eddie, his nose in a science fiction paperback.

Before I knew it, Eddie was shaking me. It was pitch black.

"What time --"

"Shhhhh."

We sat in silence for a while, my eyes gradually making out Eddie's crouched form in the faint moonlight.

"Footsteps."

I listened into the night. Didn't hear anything.

"An animal?" I whispered.

"Yeah, maybe."

When the sun rose, we set out to find Jim. We didn't have to look far. He was lying with a broken neck some 300 meters down the path from our campsite, streaks of orange paint still in his hair.

Something stirred in the greenery. Both of us whirled around to see a dark blur retreating into the shadows. My hand shot to my side to pull my Glock, only to remember that we were on vacation. Unarmed.

"Whoever that was, he got Jim. The bastard's mine," Eddie growled, bolting into the trees.

I followed, but a morning mist had risen on the steep incline. I lost him after a minute. Returning to Jim's corpse, I was greeted by a man in camo,  a semi-automatic levelled at my navel.

"Agent Briars?" he said with a thick, indistinct accent. "Your government already has declared dead you and your friends. I make sure it is not exposed as liar." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Topped by a goddamned mercenary, I thought. How insulting.

Right then, I lost my footing and fell, sliding downhill through the dirt and tropical undergrowth, bullets shredding the foliage above my head into confetti.

I grabbed at roots and branches, managing to roll into a crevice between two large rocks where I hid, breathlessly listening to my would-be assassin crashing through the trees. 

When the coast was clear, I went looking for him, creeping alone through the mist.  

But Eddie'd already found him. 

Jim was dead for real, and we were dead on paper.  

Eddie shook his head. "Looks like our much deserved vacation time's just become permanent, dude." 

I couldn't have agree more.

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A/N Entry for "Earth Center" for the Action profile in Aimed to Engage II.