The guards, including their leader, a fat slimeball, walk out and look at the punctured canister.
English
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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.