Standoff

From Torg Adventure

(That damn satellite had to be on this island somewhere. The submarine captain watched it drop into the jungle. But where is it.)

The squad of soldiers struggled through the thick undergrowth until they came to a clearing that opened over a vast swamp. Their jaws hung slack as they watched dinosaurs feeding on the thick vegetation. Less than a hundred yards away, a Brontosaurus stood with its head underwater. It was bigger than a house.

"Shit!" gasped Higgins, the radio man. "Where'd they drop us? The Lost World?"

"Move back into the jungle slowly. I don't want to draw their attention," Ulrich, the sergeant grunted. "Lieutenant! Lieutenant! Tommy! Snap out of it!"

Blackstone shook his head, ripping his eyes from the primordial scene. He unsnapped the cover on his binoculars, lifting them from his belt. He scanned the large clearing. "There's at least eight different species out there. Anyone know their paleontology? Aha! I think I see the parachute of the capsule. All the way on the other side of the swamp. Maybe in the swamp, I can't quite see."

"You don't think we should still complete the mission, do you? This is crazy. Those are dinosaurs! They've been dead for a hundred million years. They'll eat us!" Smith looked like he was ready to bolt back to the zodiac. His fingers were bloodless-white from gripping his rifle too tightly.

"Calm down, soldier! I don't see any carnivores. These are all plant eaters. They won't eat us." Ulrich tried to sound reassuring.

"Our intelligence says the Soviets are on their way here too, so we've got to get that film from the nose cone and destroy the cameras. This is our best model, and the Commissars are lusting after those lenses." The lieutenant kept looking through the field glasses. "All right, men. Let's move out along the tree line. Stay in the foliage. Keep at least 100 yards between you and any animal. Let's go."