Feet found the game trail and he subvoxed into the radio, "Hoover, five, six, Corona. On trail. Egress alpha." Nothing else needed saying, the others checking in as they hit the trail and sped off. He slowed and set a small box on the back of a tree, a single beep sounding in his head as it activated, a few seconds later two beeps as it armed. He continued trotting down the trail listening for pursuit, set another box and wondered how long it would be before hoppers were airborne. The opposition had them and since they'd just taken the heads of the leadership, they'd be after them with blood on their minds, revenge in their hearts. Getting captured, alive anyway, wasn't a particularly good idea for a sniper.

Ten minutes after setting the sensor, there was a dull thump from behind him. Subvoxing again he said, "Teams, pursuit, ten mikes," stepping up his pace to put as much distance between him and the, hopefully slower, men chasing from behind. His teams were two to three minutes ahead, Sergeant Hoover should be less than a minute even though he couldn't see him much through the heavy forest, only the occasional crack of a twig betraying his running.

A second thump broke the silence, exactly one minute after the first. This changed things as the pursuit teams were professionals undeterred by the threat of more mines. Another capability to compensate for, another change in plans. "Teams, Corona, egress beta, 24 hours. They're pros."

He turned, setting another box on the back of a tree, trotting through the forest as quickly as he could since stealth was no longer needed. Now was the time for an all out run and they were experts at it. The others would be angling off in their own direction and he knew where they had to be on the mental map inside his head, his reliable and well trained team would be following orders precisely, as always.

Half an hour later the first hopper buzzed overhead and he hunkered until it passed, resumed rapidly trotting but changing direction. If they were doing a normal expanding square he'd be staying right on the inside edge of their scans, invisible in Gilly suit and screens, his speed and training taking him beyond the runners behind. That's when he heard the bray of a hunting dog.

This changed things again. There is a special dynamic to dog pursuit learned only when being actively engaged by them. They were relentless and could run down any human in any terrain, Captain Connors being no exception to the rule. Waiting for the dog to take it out would be a waste of time. Turning and finding the handler was something else, though. He turned to the right and angled back toward where he estimated his target had to be. A dog without a handler was just another animal in the forest, no guidance to continue for long and it would soon return to its master. By then he should have a good solution to the problem at hand.....(cont)