Hunter And Cash

3: Of all the psychotic bitches

               Camila was somewhere in the middle of a Central African jungle when she found out Helen Fader had been murdered. She was sitting on a metal chair on the roof of an army outpost with an FN P90 strapped to her chest idly checking the inbox on her tablet when the email popped up.
It was written simply and didn't raise any red flags at first glance.
        Helen Fader was found dead in
        a dumpster two blocks from
        your last assignment zone
        Cause of death was gsw to the 
        chest. Additional bruises,
        fractures and
        restraint marks were found                No external DNA was found on
        the body.               
             The email was short and meant as nothing more than a heads up. It was assumed that Camila had made the kill as some sort of casualty of war action and the agency would cover her ass. The whole greater good and such. But there was the problem. She hadn't killed the woman.
           When she had left the woman, she had been a bit shaken preherps in danger of a stroke maybe but definitely alive. Someone else had gone in shortly after she left, someone who had missed her by a hairs breath. This person had recaptured Miss Fader and taken her captive and then killed her. All before the police had been able to breach the scene.
             Camila did not like this.
            A shot rung out somewhere to the right of the shed reminding her there was an intense firefight raging barely 20 kilometres (metric system rules bitches 🤘) east of her position which she was supposed to be keeping a lazy eye on with her tablet controlled UAV.
           She switched back to the video screen but now she was distracted and there was no getting around it.
       "you okay there boss?... That last shell nearly took out the drone." One of her teammates and frequent drinking buddy, Tyrone yelled as he ducked through the trapdoor and lifted himself onto the roof. His long braided hair ,which would have raised eyes back stateside but was perfect for ops here, hung loosely to his waist tied in a multi -coloured bandanna.

        Camila stood up and pushed the tablet into his hand "No I'm not. Take over. Radio me if you see any alpha target " He nodded understanding that she would tell him whatever it was when she felt he needed to know  and no sooner .  She jumped through the door ignoring the rungs and landing lightly on her hunches. The compartments that served as home to her unit were built shrewdly to conserve space, maximize ventilation and prevent heat as much as possible. Interior decoration wasn't a top concern in construction. As team leader her bunker was the largest and first in the narrow hallway. It reminded her a lot of the cramped living space she resided in during military school 
            She shrugged off the red beret on her head and shook her mane of brown, non-regulation length hair out of the rubber band that restricted it. She considered removing her combat boots as well but decided she didn't need to get comfortable to do what she was about to. She reached beneath her bunk and retrieved her personal laptop.
        She placed it on the only desk in the room and switched it on. As it loaded her mind performed high pressure mental shelf cleaning.
      
             Had she been followed?  She had been sloppy and a bit lazy with the whole red dragon affair but not enough to not notice a tail.
        
           Maybe Dimitri had an extension security team she hadn't spotted.

No, that didn't make sense because they would most definitely have been outside at the time of the shooting and either shot back at her or had enough time to intercept her.

       The person who killed Helen had been there but wasn't expecting Camila. Someone highly trained enough to make it to the nest before the cops or anyone else and skillfully retrieve an entire person in full view of an open crime scene.
        
         Camila really didn't like this.