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All Good Things Come to Those Who Wait	By : torturequeen06 Category: M through R > Predator Views: 13303 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Predator or anything associated with it. I don't make money off of this and never would ask for any. This is simply for enjoyment.

Chapter List
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So very sorry that it took so long to get this out. This chapter kicked my ass! I had to rewrite it several times before I got it right. I know some of you will be disappointed that I didn�t write the fight scene between Jack and Trunks. I tried to, I really did. It just never turned out right. I�m normally very good at writing fight scenes, but this one presented a problem for one reason or another. I promise to have fight scenes in my story. I swear I will! Just this one did not end up right and somehow the flow of the story got messed up along with it. And now I�m going to stop whining because I�m sure none of you really care and just want to read the story. So, I�ll stop.
ginstar3: I feel like such a jerk for not thanking you in my last chapter. I somehow managed to mix your review in with Death God Dist. I�m so terribly sorry for that. I swear, it won�t happen again. And I hope that there are no mistakes in this one. If there are, just let me know, please.
Shadowdog85: Sorry there�s not fight. I explained it all up top. I do plan on having fight scenes. So, hopefully I make it up to you.
Death God Dist: I�m happy that you liked the last chapter and didn�t find any mistakes in it. Hopefully this chapter will be the same for you. And yes, Jack did have to pick a fight. She seems to have a knack at doing so. You�ll see what I mean later. Oh, Glad to hear that you�re hooked. Hopefully I can keep you that way. :) As for the �breeding� program, you�ll have to wait and see.
bloodravyn: The General will get what�s coming to him� soon.

Several weeks had passed since the fight between Jack and Trunks, and much had changed. Since Jack had knocked him onto his back during the fight, Trunks had given her his respect. And Jack had learned never to pick a fight with him ever again. With just a swipe of his hand he had sent her flying into a nearby wall, bruising the entirety of her back. She had been lucky considering he could have easily broken her jaw, and was pleasantly surprised that she was only left with a bruise and some swelling. It amazed her how much control Trunks had over his body considering he had been restraining himself dramatically while he was fighting her. She had come to realize just how much he had been holding back when, a few days later, one of the men had decided it to be fun and picked a fight with him and Trunks had killed him in one move, snapping the man�s neck. The act had earned the big guy a series of shocks from the General, but none of the men had picked a fight with him since. In fact, they all steered clear of him; some went as far as turning down a different corridor if he was in sight. They had even chosen to stay away from Jack just by association, not that she minded at all. She never really liked the assholes anyways.
The only military personnel that seemed to want anything to do with the pair (on friendly terms) was Abraham Hamilton, the man that had escorted Jack into the compound and the one she had dubbed a sexist bastard. Turns out he was not sexist at all; he was just a smart ass. Hamilton always had a smart remark to come back with and had to have the last word. He annoyed Jack immensely, but it was nice to have a human to talk to every once in a while, even though most of the time he was just trying to get into her pants. At least it seemed like he was. Hamilton could be a hard man to read and there were times when she could not tell if he were joking or serious.

Since she refused to speak to her brother and father unless she absolutely had to and Mark had started to distance himself from her, Hamilton was the only human Jack could talk to. He was not always bad, but he knew how to push her buttons and there were some days it just seemed he was looking for a fight. There were only so many snide comments she could take before she snapped, hit him, and stormed away with a stream of colorful words flying out of her lips. There were days when she believed the man pissed her off on purpose just so she would hit him; made her think that he liked the pain. Hamilton seemed like the type to pick fights just for the hell of it. On several occasions she had witnessed him brawling with the other men, a smile lighting up his face, which only seemed to anger the men he was fighting with even more. Jack could understand them, if someone she was fighting was smiling and laughing, it would piss her off even more as well.
Jack was not the only one to notice Hamilton�s instigations. Trunks did as well. Unlike Jack, Trunks seemed to enjoy watching the scuffles. He was often seen watching them mandibles clicking in what Jack thought was amusement. It had occurred to her sometime later, after watching a few fights herself, that Trunks was bored. That fact had dawned on her only because she herself was bored and recognized the signs in him she herself was displaying. Not used to be confined inside, she was itching to go outside and do something, anything. Anything but the tedious and very boring daily routine that the scientists had set up for the pair which consisted of exercising (Trunks had found the treadmill a very interesting and had played with it for an hour before Jack showed him the proper way to use it), getting poked and prodded by the scientist, more exercising, more poking and prodding, showers, and then bed. There were some days when Jack went hungry and those were the days that she wanted to murder someone, her being one to never skip a meal. Jack had always had trouble controlling her emotions when she skipped a meal, take a whole days worth of food and she was either reduced to a blubbering sobbing mess or went on a rampage and snapped at anyone within earshot. Once, only once, she had attempted to strangle one of the doctors. She may not have been zapped that day, but the look her father gave her squelched any further attempts to do so.
At least she knew that she was not the only one with emotional problems. Trunks had that problem as well, though he was never reduced to tears (Jack highly doubted the male could cry), but he did growl and bark at people who came near him, reminding Jack of a dog protecting his bone. Jack had a large distaste at comparing him to animals, but with the noises he made it was she found it very hard not to. So far, she had heard him trill like a cat, bark like a dog, and growl like both of them. Hearing his noises made him seem like an overgrown house pet, albeit one that could end her life in various ways with just a flick of his large wrist. Currently, Trunks was demonstrating such a way, a large whip in his right hand which he used to destroy the designated targets (human shaped gel dummies) while the scientist watched, scratching notes on the papers attached to their clear plastic clipboards. The whip, a large barbed thing that resembled the tail of a xenomorph, cut through the fake fleshed dummies, bones and all, like a knife did with butter. It was all too frightening and surreal to her.
Fear and amazement seemed to be the only emotions Jack could produce when it came to the being standing several feet away from her. From time to time, she did feel other emotions, such as amusement. She had been very amused watching Trunks play with the treadmill. He had made sure to touch each button multiple times and had even barked in surprise when the belt had started to move and chattered in amusement when he hit the �uphill� button and the base started to rise. Though his kind was more technologically advanced than hers, they seemed to not have invented a similar contraption, probably because they preferred to run on actual ground, as she did. There was a time when one of the scientists had tried to press his stethoscope onto the male�s chest only to have it ripped from his ears by Trunks so that he could study the thing. The scientist had not seemed to mind and waited patiently for Trunks to return the item so that he could get back to doing his job. Not all of them were as patient with him. Some had made the mistake of snatching objects from him or snapping at him. It never ended well for those individuals, he never killed them, but they had learned their lesson, harshly.
Jack happened to be standing next to one of those individuals at that very moment, his casted arm hidden behind the fabric of a sling. Unable to take notes, he just stood watching Trunks wield the whip with killing precision. The man seemed to be more or less glaring at the other male. Jack smirked and then turned her attention back on the whip cracking male. Over the past few days, Jack had been noticing something about Trunks. He was losing weight, and she did not like it. The scientists always left him food on the table, but he refused to eat it and she could understand why. Most likely, he thought that there were drugs in it of some sort that would weaken him, making a chance of escape less likely. Jack could understand that train of thought; she would think the same thing as well. He only ate the food that she managed to sneak out of the mess hall for him, but it was never enough for him. But she had a plan that would hopefully remedy this. All she needed to do was talk to the General, who was standing a few yards away from her, overseeing the session.
Though Jack hated to talk to the man, he was the only one she could ask this of. They may have a relationship so rocky that even mountains could not compare, but the General would still give his daughter whatever she asked of, and at that moment, Jack intended to use that fact to the fullest. He was the only one that would see reason in what she was asking and would not hesitate to give it to her. Some would say, and they do, that she was spoiled. Without a doubt in her mind she knew it to be true. Even throughout her childhood she had gotten whatever she desired, all she had to do was ask her father. If it was within reason, she would receive it. She just hoped that what she was about to ask was in what he considered reason.
Straightening her shoulders and clenching her jaw tightly, Jack walked over to the man with unwavering determination. Once she was close enough, she stopped and inhaled deeply. �General,� she started gaining his attention. A series of thumps were heard and both diverted their attention to the direction in which they had come from. Six legs lay on the concrete ground and the three dummies that had lost them swaying slightly on the makeshift posts they were tied to. Jack had a moment to think of how bad that would hurt before the General cleared his throat. She turned back to him and he motioned for her to continue. �I�ve noticed something so I know you�ve noticed it too.� There was a momentary pause so while she glanced down at her hands. �Trunks has been loosing weight. He refuses to eat any of the food the white coats set out for him and only eats the food I sneak him from the mess hall, which just isn�t enough for him.�
�You know that is against regulations,� the General chided his daughter. �They don�t want him eating anything that is not in their set diet.�
Jack�s head snapped up and she glared up into her father�s honey brown eyes. Eyes that were so much like hers that she was disgusted. �I don�t give a shit about what they want,� she spat back. �If we all did what they wanted us to do, he would be dead by now.� Her hands were clenched into fist so tight her knuckles were bone white and her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. There was no reason for her to be this angry, she just was.
�What are you suggestion we do to remedy the situation that you have presented to me?�
Jack bit back a smile. The very statement her father just spoke was word for word what her mother used to say when there was a problem. �I�m suggesting that you let him hunt his own food,� she answered boldly staring him in the eyes, daring him to refuse her.
�That is not within reason,� he stated flatly.
�Yes, it is.� She jutted out her chin defiantly. �It is very reasonable.� Figuring that he would deny her at first, she had come up with a list in her head to sway him. �By letting him hunt you will get to keep your test subject alive for a little while longer and he�ll be less likely to kill your men. You and me both know that it was one of his kind that we were searching for in the jungle.� She hated thinking about that time in her life. �From the reports from the witnesses, we had an idea of what the creature looked like and he fits those descriptions very well. He needs to hunt. It�s what they do. Besides,� she began, folding her arms across her chest, �it�ll do him some good to get some fresh air.�
�And you as well,� the General said. �I will allow this,� Jack�s eyes lit up. She had known he would relent. �But only this one time, unless it proves to be a very effective method. You will be going with him. I need someone who understands me to be with him, and I am positive that you are the only one he would allow to go with him. Now, get ready before I change my mind.� With the knowledge that her father was not joking around when he said that, Jack scurried away so that she could tell Trunks the good news.
The explaining took less time than she would have imagined. She was very glad that she had decided to give Trunks English lessons. He had learned the language faster than she could have thought possible. It took humans years to learn how much he had in just a few short weeks. He understood more than he spoke, which she was fine with. Hand gestures helped out a lot, though they had not been needed at that moment. Trunks had understood every word she had said and was ready to go at that moment. �Wait for me at the front door,� she told him, her words coming out slowly so that he did not miss understand what she was saying to him, �I have to get ready still.� With a curt nod Trunks left to do as she told him. Before she left the room she gave her father a nod in thanks and then carried on to her room.
The General watched Jack as she left the room in silence. His arms were folded across his broad chest and it seemed more like he was brooding thank watching the woman leave. �You know,� a voice called from behind him and the General turned to spot his old friend Dr. Reeves, �if you keep giving her what she wants people are going to actually think that you care about her.� Reeves was a short man, just a little taller than Jack�s five-four, with a permanent smile on his thin lips. His eyes were hazel in color and very wide making him almost appear bug eyed, made all the worse by the thick horn rimmed glasses he wore. His nose was too small for his rounded face and his chin too large and pointy. Though the men had started out hating each other years ago when they first met, Reeves had had a crush on Jack�s mother and was jealous that her attentions were strictly for the man standing before him, but over time they had learned to respect each other and had later, years later, become good friends.
�Let them think what they want,� the General retorted dully. �She deserves to get whatever her heart desires.�
�Is the ice around your heart finally starting to melt?� Reeves asked in mock shock. General Evans glared down at the man. �Don�t worry; your secret is safe with me, old friend. I�ll never let anyone know that you are capable of feeling something for other than yourself.� The last statement had almost sounded bitter.
�Fuck you, Reeves.� General Evans left the room to go hunt down the creature Jack had dubbed Trunks.

Already knowing what door the creature was waiting at it was easy for the General to find him. Straightening his shoulders and trying to appear as intimidating as possible he marched up to the large male. Once he was near the male he stood in front of Trunks and glared up at him. Upon seeing the General, Trunks growled at him. General Evans narrowed his eyes. �I know you understand more then you pretend to so I want you to listen up,� he started cutting Trunks� growl short. �If you hurt my daughter, I will kill you.�
B�rasch thought it strange that the ooman Leader was threatening him. It did not frighten him in the least, but it made him curious. As far as he could tell from the Leader and the female Jack�s interactions with each other, he had gotten the feeling that there was some sort of animosity between them though they were father and daughter. He had gotten the sense that neither really cared for the other, but maybe he had been wrong. Or maybe they were just the kind of beings to hate each other, but still care if the other comes to harm. Some yautjas were like that as well. There had been many times he had witnessed a father and son or two brothers fighting, even nearly killing each other, but would attack any others that tried to harm them. They would protect each other with the thoughts that only they were allowed to kill the other. Maybe the ooman Leader and the female Jack had that kind of relationship. Not a very healthy one if you asked him, and he was very glad he never had that kind of relationship with his brothers and father.
He gave the Leader a curt not and then turned his attention to the back of him. He could smell Jack approaching.
*** *** ***
When Hamilton had entered the room Jack was sitting on her bed, kneeling forward tying her boots, her black pants tucked in them. She was wearing a matching black wife-beater and her dark hair was tied back in a loose bun, it having become long enough for a ponytail over the past few weeks. She had been concentrating so hard on tying her boots she had not even heard the man come in. �You�re going to wear that?� he nearly yelled at her, causing her to jump.
Hating the man at that moment she glared at him. �Yeah, is there a problem with it?� she asked her voice letting him know that she really did not care what he thought about her attire.
�Yeah, if you want to get sick. It�s freezing out there!�
�Is there snow on the ground?� she asked him, going back to finish tying her boot.
�No.�
�Then it�s not freezing outside.� Finished with her boots she stood up from the bed and started to head toward the door. �And,� she added, �for your information, I�m going to wear a jacket.� She left the room not caring if Hamilton was following her or not, which he was. All she cared about that moment was hurrying up and getting outside. It had been too long since she had stepped outside of the compound that she did not care what the conditions of the weather was or what she was, or was not, wearing.
What felt like hours later, in reality only a few minutes had passed, Jack had finally reached what was called the front door. A large red �exit� sign was attached to the wall about it. The metallic silver door was not the one that they had entered through, but it still led outside. Some of the men used it when they went out to smoke, needing the fresh air as much as they needed the toxic fumes they sucked down deep into their lungs.
,p>At the door, the General was standing next to Trunks, glaring up at the larger male and speaking to him in a low voice. When the man was done talking, Trunks gave him a curt nod and then turned to her. Smiling at him she closed the distance, eager to go. �Ready?� she asked him, excitement ringing loud and clear in her voice. To signal that he was ready Trunks placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a little shake. She had noticed that he did that often to greet her as well. Maybe it was just a gesture of his kind. Humans did it as well when they greeted friends and families. �Let�s go!� she exclaimed patting his forearm, it being the only thing she could reach.
�Before you leave,� the General started gaining her attention, �there are a few rules I have to set down.� Jack figured there would be limitations to their expedition. �As you know woods surround three-fourths of the compound, you are allowed to go three miles in any direction. Any further than that and we shock you. If you are out any longer than two hours, we will shock you. Since you don�t have a watch, I will use the com to contact you when you have a half an hour left and every ten minutes after that.� He handed her the walkie-talkie that had been previously attached to his hip which she attached to her pants. �Take this as well.� He unstrapped the gun holster on his right thigh and handed it to her, gun and all. �Just in case there is something unsavory in the woods.�
The gun was jet black and felt strange in her hands. It had been a long time since she had used a gun, Jack was just happy that it was a gun she was familiar with. A Beretta M9, a very common gun in the military. It was a semi-automatic pistol with a short recoil, single-action/double-action (SA/DA), and with a reversible magazine release making it lefty friendly. �Thanks,� she whispered not really knowing what to say while attaching the holster and weapon to her right thigh. After adjusting the straps to the appropriate size she was ready to go.
�She didn�t even grab a jacket,� Hamilton stated as Jack walked out of the door. �She�s going to catch a cold.�
*** *** ***
The air was cold enough that Jack could see her breath and she berated herself for forgetting her jacket. She had been so eager to go outside, she had forgotten what she had told Hamilton. The only clear thought in her head had been to get out. Now that she was out, she could not wait to go back in and warm up. Her teeth were chattering so loudly that she swore she heard the noise echoing in the woods. She knew Trunks heard it and was annoyed by the sound. He kept turning back to her and glaring at her. Every time that his heated gaze caught hers she would look down feeling bad for ruining his hunting. It was not as if she were doing it on purpose, it was just her body�s natural way of reacting to the cold. Of course, he probably did not know that.
One point in time Trunks had gotten tired of hearing the constant sound of her teeth and had gestured for her to stay where she was, and that was where she had stayed. In the middle of the dark woods (it had been dark when they left the compound), unmoving, awaiting Trunks� return. She had no idea how long they had been out there, but time seemed to stand still. Trunks had only been gone for ten minutes, but it felt like hours for her. A sense of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong, but she did not know what.
The feeling was familiar to her. The very same one she had gotten six years ago as she had been standing in the jungle alone and unarmed. Something had been watching her that day. She could feel its eyes roam her form causing her flesh to prickle wherever she believed it to be looking at that moment. Her heart had raced of its own accord as she searched the trees, trying in vain to catch a glimpse of what had been watching her. Never did her eyes catch anything, not even a glimmer. When her heart had been racing it fiercest, Jacob had snuck up on her and placed his hand on her shoulder and shouted:
�Hey Jack, what the hell are you doing?�
Jack�s heart froze, and she was back in the present. The sound of Jacob�s voice still echoed in the woods she was now in. Her teeth were chattering still, but it was not from the cold now. The voice had sounded too real and too close to be a distant memory. It had not come from behind her as it had those many years ago, but in front of her and something about it had been off. It had sounded throatier and less mischievous than what Jacob�s voice had sounded like. Had sounded more like a growl and a threat then a friendly greeting. Slowly she backed herself against a tree, her feet searching for any items that could trip her while her right hand subconsciously reached for the gun on her thigh. Her eyes moved in all directions, searching for any hints, a moving shadow or a disturbance in the woods, that it had not been just been imagination working overtime. Time seemed to stand still at that moment, but started to move once again when she did not see anything and she realized that nothing was there.
Finally, she released the breath she had not realized she had been holding and inhaled sharply. The cold air burned her lungs and once again she felt the chill of the evening air. She removed her hand from the gun and placed it on her abdomen just below the spot where her ribs ended. Leaning her head back against the tree she closed her eyes and sighed heavily. For several minutes she stayed like that, trying to slow the erratic beating of her heart. Every single one of her muscles had been coiled taut, ready for action, and they started to relax as well. Her hand slipped away from her body as she become more relaxed.
When she heard the growl her body reacted instantly, her hand reaching for the gun her knees bending slightly ready for flight if the need should arise, but it was not fast enough. As her eyes opened, a chink echoed through the woods around her. When her eyes finally did open, they instantly focused on the two metal objects on either side of her head. She recognized them as the wrist blades that Trunks had, but they were not his. He had only brought his whip on the hunt, having been in too much of a rush to grab his other weapons. Jack inhaled sharply and fear coursed through her veins like a poison. The creature before her was not Trunks and she had an inkling this one wanted to kill her.
While her body stood rigid, her mind raced. It was not racing to find a way out of the situation as it normally would have, but racing to find memories. Memories of a time in her life she would rather forget. The time when she was back in the Central American jungle, alone with a knife as her only company and being hunted by her own people for murdering her crazed lover. Up until that moment, she had done a wonderful job at suppressing the memories. Memories which flooded back to her now.
There had been a time in the jungle when it was no longer the military hunting her, but something else. The most basic part of her mind, where all the animal instinct of a human lay dormant, told her it was the very same something that had been watching her before Jacob had showed up. It screamed at her to keep running, that she did not want to meet whatever was hunting her. When she was out of breath and leaning against a tree for support, her legs wobbly and ready to give, she did meet it� sort of. All she saw of it were its white knuckles, the middle one having a diagonal line of green slashing through it. Instinctively she had sliced through the knuckle with her trusty knife and took off running faster than she had ever run before.
Pulling herself back into the present, Jack inwardly groaned. From what she could make out in the moonlight, this creature had white knuckles. There was no green slash in the middle knuckle, but there was a scar. Now, if she was lucky the big guy would not recognize her, but she was never on good terms with luck. Lady Luck seemed to despise her more than her father, which is saying a lot.
As inconspicuously as possible, Jack slowly reached the gun holstered on her thigh. The rational part of her brain screamed at her not to do it, but the irrational part was telling her that she would be able to remove the gun and shoot the creature before he even noticed. It was telling her she had wounded it before, she could do it again. What it had failed to realize was that back then, her knife had already been in her hand, and her reaction time had been quicker. But still, her hand lowered to her weapon in hopes that she would prevail once again and live to fight against another day.
The ooman female was reaching for the weapon at her side, and Mar�tak growled at her. Her hand instantly froze in place, her tiny fist clenching to keep herself from moving. The memory of the female still burned through his mind like the acidic blood of the kainde amedha. He still bore the scar on his right hand where the female had wounded him. She had been fierce at that moment, almost feral, her eyes wide and lips drawn back in a snarl. At first, he had believed her to be crazed, the blood of her mate that she murdered still dripping off of her, and later, he had realized that she was. Mar�tak was sure grief played a huge part in her newfound madness. But if she had killed her mate, he did not understand why she would grieve over him. In his mind, the male did not deserve to be grieved over.
Mar�tak had witnessed the scene from afar. From what he had saw, the male had pointed his weapon at the female and she instinctively reacted by drawing hers and killing him. Before the male�s body had even hit the floor, the female was out of the building she had been dwelling in and running through the jungle. It had taken a great span of time before he had found her, leaning against a tree and panting heavily. With her eyes closed she had not even realized that he had snuck up on her until it was too late. When she had reacted, it seemed as if her body had done so on its own accord. She had attacked him and then quickly ran deeper into the jungle when he had removed his wrist blades from around her head.
A rustling was heard and Mar�tak snapped his head in the direction it was coming from. The reason why he was on the dreadful planet came into view with the carcass of an animal slung over his shoulder. �It appears that you have been losing weight, B�rasch,� he grunted at the other male. �The oomans not feeding you enough?�
B�rasch set the carcass of the animal down keeping his eyes on Mar�tak. �Don�t hurt the little one, brother.� It was more of a command than a plea. �She is a valuable asset to me.�
Mar�tak scoffed at his younger brother. �I don�t see how.� When he turned his attention back to the female, she had her weapon out and aimed at him. Interesting. There was not even a quiver in her hand and she was already applying pressure to the trigger, ready to fire if he made a single threatening move. He found it strange that she had not done so while his attention was diverted elsewhere. She had had the opportunity, but did not take it. He knew most of her kind would have taken it, so why did she not do so as well?
Every fiber in Jack�s being ached to pull the trigger, and, with each passing second, it was getting harder and harder not to. For one reason or another she felt that it would be a very bad thing if she shot him. The possibility of him not dying and turning his own weapon against her was the main reason why she had not done so. �Move,� she hissed, hoping that he understood her.
It seemed that he did for he retracted his weapon, lowered his arm, and stepped away from her. She would have felt more comfortable if he had raised his hands in the air, but had a feeling that he would not do so even if she commanded it. With the big brute away from her she shifted away from the tree, gun still aimed at him, with small sidesteps making sure to keep him in her line of vision at all times. There was no way in hell she was going to let him get the chance to attack her. She would be dead if she did so. From her experiences, keeping your eye on the enemy gave them less of a chance to lunge at you. She was too afraid to even blink, thinking he would take that as a chance to catch her unawares.
The radio on the left side of her pants crackled to life and her father�s voice rang loud and clear through the silent forest. �Jack, it�s time you came in.�
Still with her eyes on the creature before her, she reached for the radio and pushed the designated button so that she could answer her father. �I thought you said you were going to contact me when we had a half an hour left?�
�Just come in, you have some guests.� The General did not sound too pleased and she decided it best not to play twenty questions.
�Yeah, alright. Be there in a jiffy.� Maybe, she added in her mind. Jack started to lower the gun while she simultaneously raised her left hand to show that she meant no harm. �Trunks,� she started once the weapon was holstered, �we have to�� White danced before her vision as a searing pain coursed through her body, a pain she was now all too familiar with. Her body buckled beneath her and a short whimper passed through her lips when she landed on the cold ground.
Mar�tak tilted his head to the side, curious about the female�s sudden change in behavior. �Do oomans normally act like that?� he inquired to his younger brother pointing to Jack.
�Only when they�re in pain,� B�rasch answered as he bent down and shoulder his meal. Once the carcass was in a comfortable position, he walked past his brother and stood before Jack who was slowly gaining her footing. He would have offered her help, but knew she would refuse it, she having done so before.
Once Jack was on her feet, she bent down and grabbed the radio. �What the fuck was that for?!� she screamed into the walkie-talkie her voice ringing loudly in the silent woods.
There was humor in the General�s voice when he answered, �You�re not moving fast enough. I thought I might give you some incentive.�
With a shriek of frustration, Jack threw the radio to the ground and started to stomp on it muttering incoherent curses. When she was finished and the radio destroyed, she abruptly turned on her heel and stomped in the direction her and Trunks had originally come from ready to shoot the General on sight.
A low chuckle came from Mar�tak as he watched the ooman female storm off. She was a very interesting breed. Much different than the feral female he had first come into contact with. It seemed she had regained her senses since then. B�rasch started to follow the female and Mar�tak called after him, �Be prepared, Little Brother! We will come from you soon.�
B�rasch raised his hand in acknowledgement, not even bothering to turn around. He prayed to the gods that it would be very soon that they would come for him. He did not know how much longer he could take being with the oomans. Anymore of their insulting acts and he might start slaughtering them all, starting with the ones in the white coats. He hated them the most. Yes, they would be the first to go. Once they were taken care of, he would next go after the ones that caught him. Then the male that called himself �Hamilton�, that ooman annoyed him greatly. He was surprised he had not already snapped his neck or at least removed his constantly wagging tongue. After him, he would kill the rest. All except the Leader. He would leave that particular male to the female Jack. She harbored the most resentment for the male and would be happy to end his life.
An excitement grew in B�rasch as he thought of the day that would lead to his freedom. All he had to do was bid his time until that day came.
Soon, very soon, was his last thought as he neared the compound.
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All Good Things Come to Those Who Wait