<strong>Cole Madu: Prone atop a hilltop, watching those damned Ruskies</strong><br/><br/>The canteen drained fast.  Too fast.  Cole pulled the nipple away, careful not to accidentally spill any of his precious water.  He had maybe, two gallons left.  He didn't know of any nearby water sources.  What he had just sipped needed to last him at least until nightfall.<br/><br/>The soldier replaced the cap on the canteen, sliding the ceramic away and raising his binoculars to his eyes.  They were typical military issue: matte black, with built in range finder and three seperate magnifications, as well as specially coated lenses to reduce the chance of accidental reflections.  It had been three minutes since the Russians pulled a prisoner out of the forest.<br/><br/>A<em>second</em>prisoner.  He had fucked up earlier, mistaking the American for a Russian soldier.  How?  He had no idea, but he had.  That put the count at four Russians, one KIA Ruskie, and two American PoWs.  That evened the playing field slightly.  If he could bust out those prisoners and get weapons in their hands, they might stand a chance.<br/><br/>Cole panned the binoculars over the land around the smoking heli.  Two of the Russians were idly standing near the PoWs - and there was the corpse of the fifth Russian.  They weren't going to bury their dead?  He was about to spit into the dirt in disgust, but refrained, not wanting to waste water.<br/><br/>He continued to scan, spotting the other two Russians.  They had peeled away and were walking about with their hands on their weapons.  Walking with purpose.  Were they scouting?  Making a perimeter?  Going to piss?<br/><br/>Cole didn't know, but one of them, the woman, was walking in his general direction, about five hundred meters out.  She was probably satisfying the basic urge to reach higher ground, get a better line of sight on the surrounding terrain.<em>Bitch</em>he thought to himself, hastily stowing away his binoculars.<em>I was just getting comfortable.</em><br/><br/>He backcrawled away from the edge of the hill - it wasn't a steep slope, but there was a definite end to the flat top of the hill - pulling his backpack along with him.  Once he had broken line of sight with the chopper and Russians, he pulled his M16 back as well.  Cole shook the cloth it was resting on out, then rolled it up and stuck it in his equipment pocket.  He then slung the rifle's strap over his shoulder, and continued to back away from the edge.<br/><br/><em>Should I ambush her?  I could definitely take her down quickly, but then the rest of 'em would storm up here.  Or I could hide and just let her pass by...</em>Cole's hands shook slightly from anxiety.<em>If I hide, she'll find me.  If I kill her, they'll find me.</em>Caught by indecision, he froze.  Crouched by the bronze sign on the far side of the hill, Cole wracked his mind, trying to find a middle ground.