Welcome to the Jungle

Iroun Mouth crouching in the grass . the large trees struggling to reach further than the others, their hands extended into the sky trying to reach the sun. the clarity was lower in the more populated areas.
According to the information he had achieved in the last village he had passed by, if he continued in that direction he would finda settlement with semi-military Guerrilla men .
His dirty black hair fell disorderly on his face. he did not have the time to look his personal hygiene. he ate anything, whatever. stones, sticks, dirt, grass. anything served to survive.
The only thing that really mattered was to reach his target. Slate had placed great expectations on him . he did not want to fail but some times he made mistakes. if he made msitakes was because nobody had trained him to infiltrate these areas, all his training had been in urban places. he had lived his entire life in a jungle, a jungle of concrete. where the fittest survives. but this type of forest gave a 360 degree turn to the matter.

Fausto Martense was almost relentlessly stuck to the floor, trying to make less noise as possible. if he had to make some noise he masked the noise when any animal cried or howled .
the pants he was wearing were cut in various places, like his t shirt . The only thing that remained unchanged was his boots. his heavy black military boots ,on the left one he was wearing a sharp survival knife.
He didnt liked to carry guns, he did not like it . he never liked them . ¨the guns are loaded by the devil ¨ his mother used to say until one of these bullets loaded by the devil drilled her skull. He never liked guns.
At the seventh day of his journey through the desolate jungle a violent storm hit trees penetrating the roof covered by the populated place.
The noise of the storm helped him to move easily without causing much noise. so he took advantage of the weather to go much faster, still in a state of alert.
On the eighth day he was totally exhausted, he had no more energy, two large black circles were under his eyes provide how little he had slept in that week. he sat on the roots of a tree to rest a little but he quickly fell in a deep sleep .

Fausto wake up shocked , he had heard something.did he had really actually heard it? he sharpens his ear and hold his breath trying to hear where the sound came. they where near , surely they would be looking for him.
He tried to find the exact place, and he found it. then he stood up and began to walk quietly toward his prey.
iron Mouth kept hearing the sound of footsteps and the friction of clothing against the plants.
The men werent dressed in military clothes but they were heavily armed. grenades, knives, assault rifles ...
One of them walked a bit away from the main group. they were 5 people in total. if he did not find something to do soon they will kill him anyway .
Fausto unhesitatingly jumped on the one that was behind the group . Fausto^s knife was dangerously resting on his skin.
¨ the location of the camps or your friend will becomes cadaver ¨
Fausto was proud, he was sure that the situation was completely controlled and tilded in his favor. one false move and the man will die.

Or at least that was the plan because the four other ¨soldiers ¨ lifted their M16 pointing towards the boy , he could not do any movement.his mind said ¨now ¨ but his body answered with a question ¨ What now? ¨ he didnt have enought time to send other order to his body, the M16 had spat bullets at full speed. 4 short bursts, one for rifle was enough. both bodies fell to the ground bleeding,they had holes in the stomach at the height of the liver and in the skull.the blood still warm bubbled from their wounds on their heads covering the faces of the corpses .
their blinds eyes stared without seeing, they were dead but not expressionless, you could guess the horror they had felt.

A single thought quickly pass through his head. it was not the fear of death, it was not his own death. ¨You failed moron ¨ was the only words that crossed through his mind, he had failed the mission that Slate entrusted to him, a mission that was of a great importance for the main goal. He was proud of the privileged place that Slate had given him and was proud to assist in a goal like that. but he was afraid, he was just a kid. he have much fear of failing, messing the whole mission, and with it a new future for the world. a life of planning threw to waste for his lack of strength, courage or ability.
How many times he had died since he fell asleep on the plane?