Operation Killjoy

II

KIlljoy stood with ease from the floor and dusted her shaved head. 

Her dark green cargo pants were stained copper by dirt and obviously worn out. Black tactical boots and tank top hugged tightly to her skin. A black scarf hung loosely around her neck decorating her dog tags, which she tucked into her shirt. She propped her hands on her hips and looked around the very small shelter. A small foldable table sat next to a cot with a worn out blanket and a flat pillow. Two large cases of ammo, food and water, and first aid sat up against the opposite wall. She grabbed her utility bag from the wall beside her and started shoving extra ammo boxes in it. If she was going to save a cavalry of men, she was going to need ammunition. Once everything was in place she began strapping her belts on, one around her leg for her rifle, another around her waist for her handgun and knife, and finally the sniper-rifle, which hung over her back by a strap that crossed her chest. She pulled her bag over top of it.
A small, red button was embedded onto the strap of her bag, gps tracker. She clicked it on, sighing through her nose.
"This is Agent Killjoy, do you read me, over."
The light blinked once, a yes.
"I'm on my way to save the day, over."
The light blinked once again.
All clear. 

She stepped out of the small door hidden by leaves, silent and observant as she listened intently. Her base was in a tree top, bamboo stalks laying over a series of branches that were so overgrown with leaves you could only see it when you climbed about 15 feet into the large jungle tree. It was dangerous territory for the wildlife, but a great hiding spot from the enemy. 

She was about 8 kilometers out from landing zone X-Ray. According to reports the Vietminh had pushed back and surrounded the troops, calling broken-arrow was the only thing they could do.
As she confirmed the coast was clear she reached into one of the pockets on her lower thigh and pulled out a protein bar.
Crumbling up the wrapper and tossing it back into her shelter, she shoved the bar in her mouth and headed toward the trunk, climbing down quickly. She hardly made a sound, even with all the gear on her body.
Raising her compass that was strapped to her wrist and turning northeast, she began walking through the jungle. The trees were safe despite the wildlife, however a few areas were rigged, especially now that American troops are advancing.
Although she was walking away from the Vietminh base, she kept as silent and observant as possible for fear that they had came into this side of the jungle to surround the landing zone.

To hike 8 kilometers would take about 2 hours with shortcuts and no delays. She mentally groaned. This was serious, but still a pain in the ass. Then again, what wasn't a pain in the ass? The sun was setting and she knew they wouldn't be expecting her. She paused for a moment.
'I'm probably going to get shot.'
Starting up again she pulled her bag around to the front of her, opening it and grabbing the portable receiver, better known as a walkie-talkie, but this one could pick up frequencies like the big receivers soldiers carried on their backs to communicate with HQ. She didn't know why they didn't have them yet.

"Killjoy to HQ, requesting contact to seventh cavalry. Over."
The tracker blinked once.
She turned on the walkie-talkie and loud interference rang throughout the jungle. She immediately dropped down behind a tree, looking around cautiously.

Nothing.

Quickly she began toggling nobs until a frequency came through, a soldier requesting choppers to pick up the wounded. It caught her off guard, suddenly reminding her of the mission. Operation Killjoy was serious, a presidential call was in order for this. She was the president's pet after all.

"Lieutenant Colonel Moore, Do you read me? Over." She spoke clear and quick. Silence followed for a few seconds, static and rumbling came through.
"I read you. Over." A rough, cautious voice answered. 
"Lieutenant Colonel Moore, this is agent Killjoy, I assume you're aware of the mission. Over."
Killjoy could imagine the look on Moore's face as she finished. A dumbfounded look that only a man could make. She'd heard about Moore, and watched him enough to know that he's an honest god fearing man. 

"Agent Killjoy?" He sounded like he was making the face.

"Try not to shoot me." Killjoy switched the receiver off and pocketed the small device. She thought it would be interesting at least. 

(AN: Still here? Thanks! Hope you're enjoying it!)