He and Athena finished wiring the airplane... He thought it was such a waste. There was still hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of weaponry in there that was about to go up in flames. To Uncle Sam, he supposed, it was just pennies from his pockets.<br/><br/>A few minutes later, he heard a deafening boom that indicated that their plane had met its' fiery death, and the five of them (seven, including their two captives) began to discuss their situation. "We're not in<em>Mexico</em>, J.D. I'm going to hazard a guess that we're in Venezuela, or god-forsaken Colombia," Oscar scolded. He wasn't mad, but he had a pretty good understanding of geography, and it irked him that someone would make that sort of mistake. "Bolivia. I stand corrected." Oscar amended after Athena got a proper coordinate on her GPS device. "Wow, really, Bolivia? I thought we were in the air much longer than that." Just because he never forgot a single thing, didn't mean he was an accurate clock...<br/><br/>"Twenty miles. With two prisoners. Fighting against the humidity and the jungle... I'm thinking we'll have to move the rest of the day, and spend the night in the jungle, and another long day's walk to get there." He turned to Athena. "Counter tracking? I suppose it's not really something I picked up in the Army. It's pretty hard to hide the passage of that many people, but I learned a few things here and there. I'll see what I can do to cover our tracks. Are there any rivers or streams close by?"