Jack dove for the thickest foliage nearest him, somersaulting into the leafy ferns, and ran at a low crouch along the narrow trail made by some small animal. Bullets rained around him, one or two coming too close for comfort. He kept moving fast into deeper jungle where the light barely penetrated the thick canopy. He was a GhostWalker and the shadows welcomed him.

The rain forest was made up of several layers. At the emergent level, trees grew as high as two hundred and seventy feet. The canopy was about sixty to ninety feet above him, where most of the birds and wildlife resided. Mosses, lichen, and orchids covered the trunks and branches. Snakelike vines dropped like tentacles. Palms, philodendrons, and ferns reached out with large leaves to provide even more cover. The understory saw very little sunlight and was dark and humid-perfect for what he needed.

Once into the darker areas, he blended into the foliage, the stripes and patterns of the jungle covering his skin, from his face down his neck, his chest, and arms. His specially designed camouflage pants picked up the colors surrounding him and reflected them back so he virtually disappeared into the vegetation, as if the jungle had eaten him.

Jack leapt into the trees, using low-lying branches, climbing swiftly up to the crotch of a tall evergreen tree that was particularly heavy with foliage. From his view, he could easily see the forest floor. It looked bare, but he knew it was teeming with insects, like a living carpet over the poor soil. He waited, knowing the rebels would come swarming through the jungle. Major Biyoya would be furious that Jack had escaped. Biyoya would have to answer to the general, and General Ekabela wasn’t known to treat kindly anyone failing him.

Shouted curses and orders, anger and fear in the voices, drifted with the smoke through the trees. Jack hoped one of the burning logs he’d kicked out of the fire pit had set on fire the small leaf-covered hut the major liked to use.