It comes from the control room, separate from the lights. James is in there, 20 men aiming AK-12s at him.
English
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[i]He looks back to the turrets, looking to see if a collateral is possible.[/i]
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It is.
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[i]Letting his breath out, he fires, one shot, a .50 caliber tungsten carbide armor-piercing round. With its sound again masked by the jungle and the distance, the shot sails through the air and rips through all three turrets, shredding their internal systems and rendering them inoperable. [/i]
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The defenses are now all gone, exept for the men aiming their guns at James in the control room. Nate laughs.
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[i]Firing into the room would most likely result in Nate being killed. As fast a shot as he was, he knew that they'd kill him as soon as his first shot killed several of them. He had to find a way to distract them. He moves his scope over the base, looking for a way to draw them out.[/i]
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There is a large oil canister to the far side of the outpost.
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[i]Bingo. He reloads the rifle, loading in a sabot shot, then a clip full of incendiary phosphorus-tipped rounds. Looking to the barrel, he makes his shot. The small sabot screams through the air, making no sound until it rips through the metal oil canister, rocking it and knocking it on its side. Gasoline begins leaking out over a large swath of ground. [/i]
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Edited by VertheAlt: 12/23/2015 12:31:03 AMThe guards, including their leader, a fat slimeball, walk out and look at the punctured canister.
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[i]He waits for them to walk into the area covered in gasoline, and then he fires a phosphorus-tipped incendiary round into the center of the gasoline pool. It ignites in a fireball, setting the men on fire.[/i]
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They run around screaming in horror and anguish. They soon fall limp, dead as their corpses roast. Nate yells in joy.
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[i]Zooming out, he scans the area again, looking for any hostile elements still left alive. [/i]
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There is none. Every potential threat has been terminated.
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[i]He moves his scope towards the man in the stockade, and zooms in.[/i]
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It is Nate. A wide smile stretches across his face.
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[i]He fires a shot at the stockade, the shot ripping through the wood and the lock, leaving Nate capable of getting out.[/i]
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Nate gets out, and walks into the forest, removing the piece of wood in his neck.
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[i]Still cloaked, he lowers his rifle, slides it onto his back, and moves in towards the camp slowly, observing it as he nears it, watching for anything out of the ordinary.[/i]
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Nate smiles. "Thanks, Blackjack.