"Why can't we lose those trackers?" Lagerveldt whispered.

The Corporal, the Colonel, and Christen sat nearest the path as everyone took a short break.

"We have only one option, Agent; we must eliminate them to survive. They are far too dangerous to disable and leave."

"Our survival depends on those helo's not finding us," Christen agreed.

Williams slipped his gun from its holster.

"Are we going?" he asked, and she nodded, but when she followed him, so did Doc, and judging from the expression on the Colonel's face, Lagerveldt wasn't about to be talked out of it.

This mission would go much faster if she went on her own, but that was not an option—Doc wouldn't allow it, and neither would Williams. Even though she could take out the trackers with the least force, they would not let her take the risk.

***

The group barely noticed as they slipped away, assuming they were headed out on a scouting mission, and they met up outside the perimeter.

"I can take out these guys, but I need a distraction," Williams took command of the situation before he remembered Doc was his superior officer.

"The people in that clearing need you. You and I will create a distraction, and Christen will do what needs doing, quietly and with the least danger to any of us," Doc decided.

His thunderous expression revealed his intention to contradict her.

"Corporal Williams, I assure you that Christen will be effective and efficient. Her situation is need-to-know, and we don't need or want to know. Believe me when I say that. She isn't supposed to reveal herself to anyone, ever. I believe this limits her, and it is why I have pretended ignorance thus far, but right now, people depend on us, and I trust that what happens in the jungle will stay in the jungle," Doc said tersely.

"We're wasting daylight," Williams said, more than a little passive-aggressive but accepting the situation.

"Actually, that is a brilliant idea. We'll wait until after dark, separate them, and take them individually. Lend me your knife, please, Corporal," Christen suggested.

"Unlike you, we can't see in the dark," Doc reminded.

"Speak for yourself, and you won't need to see in the dark. They will make a small fire because they don't know that we know they are following us. You just need to be the lookout," Williams suggested.

Their unwillingness to speak of her abilities made asking how he could see in the dark impossible.

"Agreed, let's find them," she said, taking the lead.

She led them unerringly in the right direction before circling around to place them behind their enemies. Impressively, the men left nearly no trace of themselves, and that confirmed her suspicions that they were very dangerous, and she would not underestimate them.

While they followed their followers, Christen glanced at Doc, who kept surprising her, and she wondered how much Moore suspected. They were very close to each other, and she suspected that only the nature of their work and employers kept their relationship platonic.

There was no denying the chemistry between the two, and with her senses, no doubt that they didn't act on their feelings. A pity; they were perfect for each other.

***

Christen moved soundlessly forward, and they watched the trackers make a small camp with only a modest fire.

The men ate cold rations and boiled water to make some herb concoction like tea, remaining restless, alert, and coiled for action. The smallest sound could warn them they were not alone, and sneaking up on them would be impossible if she wasn't what she was.

She had no intention of sticking to Doc and William's plan. There was no way she would allow anyone to get hurt.

Doc signaled for her and Williams to move out, and they obeyed.

***

The night was exceptionally dark, and the enemy had chosen their camping spot well. Christen could not get closer than ten feet to them without being spotted. Something crashed through the undergrowth, and the men surged to their feet with their weapons pointed at the darkness, but the sound didn't repeat itself.

The one closest to her motioned for one of his men to go investigate, and the tracker blended into the darkness with stealthy efficiency, but he might as well have been wearing bells and whistles.

She could hear his boots crunch on the leaves, the slightly sped-up beat of his heart, and his controlled breathing. Shifting from night vision to infrared, she saw him as a bright orange and red blob sprinting away.

She tracked Williams too, but the steady beat of his heart didn't alter as the enemy approached his position. The Corporal's breathing didn't hasten, and his calm remained undisturbed. Even these trained men showed signs of stress, yet he didn't, undisturbed as he waited with cold calculation for his target.

Christen moved in the opposite direction and made a loud racket as she ran through the undergrowth like someone who panicked and stumbled blindly into the night. She didn't have to see the second man to know he took the bait.

They would think that someone almost accidentally discovered their camp, spotted them, and skirted the encampment to escape. The first tracker would still investigate the initial sound they heard, just in case, trusting his colleague to take care of himself.

Christen stopped running and jumped two meters straight up, perching in the bough of a tree. A scuffle followed by a muffled shout attracted her attention, and she picked up on the distinct sound of breaking bone, but she didn't have time to worry. Her enemy appeared below her, and she allowed him to pass her position before gracefully dropping to her feet.

He whirled to face her, but she had already lunged forward, grabbed his gun wrist, and immobilized his hand while her other hand crushed his trachea before he could think to defend himself.

She let go, and even as his pupils reacted to her unexpected presence, so close to him that he could see the glow of her eyes in the dark, she grabbed his head between her hands and snapped his muscled neck as if he were made of straw.

Christen prevented him from falling to the ground, settled him quietly, unstrapped his weapon, took his knife, and closed his lids after the light faded from his eyes.

***

"I'm fine," Williams whispered, knowing she could hear and no one else would.

She returned to where they had left Doc because she could only detect one heartbeat in that direction, but she had heard no scuffle or gunshots, skidding to a halt at the edge of the firelight as Williams arrived on the other side.

Doc stood in the dark. The third tracker lay on his back, his foot perilously close to the fire, his mouth open in surprise, his one eye wide open, and a dagger buried hilt deep in the other.

It was an exceptional throw from that distance for a female human, Christen thought with some admiration. Accurate and deadly, despite her wound.

Moore taught Doc the art of knife throwing, but she hadn't expected her to use the skill in such a perilous situation. A miss could have had fatal consequences, but Doc was an efficient fighter that challenged Moore even though he was a master in mixed martial arts and boxing.

The Colonel probably never even considered the possibility that she could miss her mark. She would have counted on the fact that he would not shoot and betray his position, and she was confident enough to think she could take him—so much for allowing her to do the work.

"Nice throw, doctor," Williams smirked.

"This was not the plan," Christen admonished her superior, and Doc laughed.

"I suspected that you didn't intend to stick to it anyway, and I don't miss. I saw an opportunity and took it. Now we must take care of the evidence," the Colonel suggested.

"The best place to hide them would be in the trees," Williams proposed, and before he could finish his sentence, Christen grabbed their dead enemy by the front of his fatigues and jumped.

She moved higher, and a few odd noises later, she dropped to her feet from nearly five meters up, like she stepped off a chair.

***

Doc extinguished the fire by kicking dirt over it while Williams and Christen removed all evidence that the trackers were there.

When they entered their camp, her HUD showed it was two in the morning. The sentries stepped into sight for only a few seconds to show themselves, and she could tell Williams was proud of his men for maintaining the perimeter in his absence.

"Good Job," Doc whispered into the night as they sought out their sleeping bags and unrolled them to catch a couple of hours of sleep before moving on.

They needed to be miles from this place by dawn.