Shane stood. “Deers good eatin’. I was born in Kentucky, sister. Deer hunting was practically all we had. Other than bourbon, tobacco, and horse racing. That’s pretty much about it.” He pressed the button on his headset. “Raptor this is Atlas.” He waited a moment for the response that Sandy couldn’t hear. He pulled a small map from his pocket. “We got contact at grid... break…” he squinted at the map. “Eight Niner Seven, Zero Two Six. One foot-mobile. deer, male, believed non-combatant. Head this way and give us fly-over see if this dudes alone” He paused again. “Atlas out.”