A drizzly haze enveloped the forest.
Mark gripped the automatic rifle in his hands. Although the sights of the weapon were clearly accurate, his vision was blurred with thoughts of uneasy doubt.
“Join us,” the pamphlet read
“Become a true hero. Joining us will be your true victory!”
The sorrounding forest resonated with the sounds of wildlife, chirping and scattering among the overgrown brush.
Mark glanced up, above the low hanging vines and broken branches.
A large military helicopter swooped low over the trees, peering down into the tangled jungle. Small turrets peeked out of the gunship, eyeing the overgrowth below.
Mark reached into his battle jacket and removed the crumpled pamphlet. The red background reminded him of another time, a seemingly peaceful time when the enemy seemed distant and unreal. The character on the cover brandished an SK-88 with an outstreched hand. It seemed like an ironic joke.
Mark chuckled and leaned against a nearby rusty sign which simply read,
“Welcome to New York City”