Page 17 of False Flag

Jake’s envelope had contained his red tracking tag with his player number and a map with a dot that marked his starting point. He set out with the others who were ostensibly on his side, but given the size of the forest they had to play in, they quickly dispersed in fifteen different directions.

It was a beautiful day, and the forest setup was truly amazing. He could see why Raptor ran so many trainings here. They had blinds set up both on the ground and in the trees. He wouldn’t be surprised to learn there were tunnels as well. Nothing was off-limits as long as they stayed within the game boundaries, which were clearly marked with orange flagging tape, signs, and fencing. Only the traffickers were allowed to leave the boundary, and then only if they had an artifact in their possession.

All players and artifacts were tagged; movement beyond the perimeter would trip an alarm.

Jake would love to attend a training here sometime, but today was just meant to be fun. His starting point was a burrow in the ground, and there he found a pack with water bottles, his supply of red paint pellets, and the clue that an artifact was a hundred meters away, near a stream.

He hadn’t crossed any streams on his way to this start point, so he could check off where it wasn’t. He studied the map, looking for a stream. None were marked, but there was a lake—a reservoir—to the southwest, and streams would likely flow in that direction.

He clipped the supplies to his vest, tucked his map away, and waited for the signal.

Three minutes later, a horn sounded, and they were off. He made his way through the woods, a grunt on patrol as he searched for a stream, enemies, and potential allies.

Ten minutes in, he met up with a red-banded soldier. The Black man gave him an assessing look. “Burns, right?”

Jake nodded. “And you’re Cal, Freya’s husband.”

The man grinned, and Jake realized he could have identified him as a former Green Beret, but instead had used his marital status. But Freya made an impression, and she was the one who’d consulted with his team and NSWC, not her husband.

“So, you a trafficker in this?”

Cal grinned wider. “No, you?”

“Nah.”

Not that either of them would tell the truth. For now, they were officially on the same team.

Jake shared his clue about the stream. Cal offered that it could be found in a tree.

Jake scanned the woods. “That’s a lousy fucking clue. Last I checked, this forest was full of trees.”

“Well, there might have been more to it.”

“So, I’m a little confused on why the Red team and Yellow team are at odds, considering both sides, in theory, are trying to protect the artifacts.”

“Freya said to consider ourselves opposing factions in a civil war, so everyone’s cause is just from their point of view. Plus, then we get to shoot on sight, and paintball would be pretty boring if I didn’t get to shoot my friends.”

Jake laughed. “Well, yeah. I’ve been wanting to shoot Teague Collins for a while now.”

Cal chuckled. “Good thing he’s Yellow, then. For myself, I’ve had a red ball with Pax’s name on it since our last game.”

“You do this often?”

“This is the first time with Raptor running the game, but we have a group that plays every few months.” Cal scanned the forest, gun at the ready. “This is a sweet setup. I hope we get invited back.”

“Same,” Jake said. “I have a feeling Boyd will be taking notes on our performance. He’s a competitor.”

“That works for me. He and Freya are buddies—bonded by their shared CIA past.” Cal pointed his paintball gun high and whispered. “There’s a cache in that tree—like they have in Alaska. That was my clue. The artifact is there.”

“Dangerous to retrieve if alone. Exposed on the ladder.”

“Yep. And I think someone’s up there.”

“Let them bring it down, and if they’re Yellow, take it?”

“Solid plan. I’ll cover the east flank.”

Jake nodded and moved to the west, fully aware that if Cal was a trafficker, he’d shoot Jake as soon as one of them was in possession of the artifact.