He knew the weapons cache was enormous. The supplies had belonged to the former government and had come from the United States. When the general and his soldiers abandoned their jobs in the military and scattered, they had raided a number of the government armories. As an army they were well stocked, well trained, and completely mobile, a good five thousand troops strong. The general ruled the area with a ruthless and bloody hand, keeping people in line with swift violence whenever he deemed lessons necessary. The main encampment was at least a hundred miles into the interior, and the smaller, satellite camps spread out from there like a spider’s web.

Near the armory, Jack dropped to his knees and elbows, crawling through the layers of rotting vegetation. Ants, beetles, and termites poured through the leaves and branches, over and around him. He ignored them as he kept moving forward at a snail’s pace, staying to the shadows as much as possible. One guard walked over to another and gestured toward the wounded men, talking animatedly.

Jack moved forward inch by inch, until he was out in plain sight, his skin and clothing now reflecting the deeper colors of the ground. Night had fallen, and the sounds emerging from the interior of the forest had changed subtly. A cheetah coughed in the distance. Birds called to one another as they settled in the higher canopy. The chimpanzees quieted as the larger predators emerged. The insects grew louder, a continual sound that never ceased. Fog rolled in over the mountains and drifted into the forest and along the floor.

Jack kept moving steadily across the ground, heading for the area where the guards were heaviest, his goal the circle of vehicles with the cargo inside. The main armory would be a bunker at the central camp, but all the outlying camps had to carry supplies with them-and they would keep those supplies under heavy guard and as mobile as possible. That meant in the vehicles. The jeeps and trucks were parked a short distance away from the camp for safety.