Snake looked around, pistol ready. Someone, or many someone's were here. The trails had been unmistakeable, even to the urban fighter. Crushed grass and footprints were everywhere. Even a few discarded magazines and bullet shells. What had happened here? Suddenly, his pinger started vibrating like crazy, and he shouted out the only thing he could think of in that moment. "Marco!" When no response came, he leveled his pistol, calling out again. "Marco!" Slowly, cautiously, he moved forward. Whoever was up there was not friendly.<br/><br/>The soldier's foot caught on something wirey, breaking it. On instinct, he dove to the side, just in time to avoid a heavy, swinging spiked log. "Ah fuck. That could've hurt." He stood up, rubbing his head, surprised to find Raptor and Kitten in front of him. "Well, hey there. This place has traps, although how many I'm not sure. Just be careful." With that said, he holstered his pistol, moveing forward with nothing but a knife. Snake's breath was even, slow, as were his footsteps.<br/><br/>A snap boubced off the trees, followed by the heavy foot falls of fully armed and armored PMC troops. "Quick, get up in a tree! We can't be spotted!" He crouched, jumping up and grabbing the lowest branch. After getting up on his feet, he jumped up to another branch, and waited for the beeping to signal the change of texture and temperature. "Do not shoot. They can't know we're here!"