Predator: A Hunter's Journey (ON HOLD)

Chapter 1 - The Jump

Disclaimer: The contents of this story include but are not limited to: Violence, gore, graphic depictions of violence and strong language. I do not nor do I claim to own any aspect of the AvP Universe. All rights belong to their respective owners. Reader discretion is advised.

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I look up from my HK417 rifle to the other three people on my squad sitting in front of and beside me until my eyes meet Jonah's. Best friends since kindergarten, we did everything together. He was one of the few people that I would trust with anything.

"Hey man, you doin' ok?"

Classic Jonah, always worried about others and not himself. If I had to describe him in one word, I'd definitely say he was selfless. Everything he did was for the benefit of others, and he rarely stopped to think about himself. After Hurricane Zofia hit Florida, he drove all the way from our hometown of Arlington, Virginia to assist in relief efforts.

"Yeah, I'm fine I guess," I lie. I don't know why but I just can't shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. After being in my line of work this long, you start to develop a kind of sixth sense about these things. From the look my squad mate, Shane was giving me, I could tell he didn't believe me.

I'm wrenched from my thoughts as the jumpmaster tells that we're only a minute or two from our drop zone. With a whoosh, the rear cargo door of our C-130J opens to reveal the pitch black, night sky. After checking each other's equipment, we wait for the Jumpmaster to give us the go-ahead. I do one final check before looking at the jumpmaster who give us a nod. I step forward and jump.

As soon as I step foot off the aircraft, I feel myself falling and the wind rushing past me. I check my altimeter to see that we're still nearly twenty-thousand feet up. I look around and see the crate that was shoved out of the aircraft before us and begin to head towards it.

I reach the crate and begin falling with it. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Paul casually lying face-up while examining his gloves. I shake my head at how nonchalant he seems on missions. I check my altimeter once again to see that we've just passed 4,500 ft and pull the cord on both mine and the crate's parachutes.

We touch down in the Colombian jungle about 30 miles from the nearest city, Bogota. As I open the crate to retrieve more of my gear, I hear the sound of branches snapping. I look up only to see Rico, our drone operator, hanging a few feet off the ground, out of a tree by his parachute. I sigh, amused by the new operator's struggle to free himself from the tangle of cord and straps. I jog over to the base of the tree, fold my arms and look up at him

"Goddamnit man. How did you manage this?" I ask, trying not to laugh.

"I don't know. Just get me down, alright?"

After helping Rico down from the tree, we silently gear up. I put on my plate carrier and helmet, make sure my ammo pouches are closed and my H&K Mk 23 handgun is holstered. I attach my NVGs to my helmet and test them to make sure that they work. Satisfied I give my team the order to move out, but not before I destroy the crate with a thermite grenade.

As we slowly advance on our target, I can't help but get the feeling that we're being watched by...something. I shake off the feeling before taking out my binoculars to recon our target. I look over at Rico who seems to be messing around with his damn drone again. AGAIN! He's been modifying the fucking thing all week. Says that it'll help prevent it from being spotted. Whatever, I've never liked trusting drones, too many bad experiences.

"What is it with you and that drone Rico?"

"Honestly, nothing. I just want to make sure that we don't blow this mission so I'm trying to make this thing as stealthy as possible."

"Huh. You know that the warning label will have to come off though. Its practically a neon sign saying 'Look at me! I'm a drone that wants to be shot down!'"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Now fuck off and let me work"

"Yeesh. Fine, I'll go get ready then."

Rico and I aren't exactly the best of friends but we always have each other's backs. We can't afford not to. As we reach our target a few hours later, I give a low whistle and signal for my teammates to gather around me. I pull out photos, place them on the forest floor and wait for my men to pay attention. Paul decided to take his time, instead adjusting the scope on his MK14 EBR.

"Alright listen up guys, I'm only gonna go over this once so if you aren't listening, too bad. As you know, our target's hacienda is just over there. The guards aren't your run of the mill sicarios. No, from what I can see, they're heavily armed, well equipped and well trained but as long as we stay quiet, we shouldn't have to much trouble dealing with them."

I pause, waiting for any questions that one of the men might have. A minute later, after I'm satisfied that they understand everything so far and don't have any questions, I continue with my briefing.

"As you know, our target is Rafael Correa. This guy's the real deal. Not only does he run the largest cartel in South America, he was the one who orchestrated the DFW Airport bombings so be careful. Our mission is simple; infiltrate his house, deal with any guards, neutralize Correa and exfil via our contact on the outskirts of the city. Understood?"

Judging by everyone's mumbles, I can tell they understand the mission and are ready to go. We do some final recon of the Hacienda and get our gear ready. Then, under the cover of darkness, we approach the compound, ready to deal with whatever is waiting for us behind these walls.