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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Shaman" data-source="post: 3001319" data-attributes="member: 26473">Capt. Martini reaches into his own pack and pulls out an old map case in brown leather that he slings over one shoulder. A few of the veteran legionnaires smile. “You’re bringing your sketch book, sir?” Nedjar offers respectfully.The captain nods. “Depending on where these tracks go, we may be near a marabout that Lt. Ferrand described.”“Sir,” Sánchez interjects, “Barzini here is a pretty talented artist.” The Spaniard reaches into his pack, pulls out the neatly folded drawing he tucked away after the card game, and presents it to the officer.Le Capitaine studies the picture, then looks at Raffaele. “This is very good, légionnaire. Much better than my hasty efforts.” He hands the drawing back to Sánchez with a smile, and hefts his MAT-49. Kat calls out, “David, on point with Vidal,” and the section begins climbing the slope.Vidal studies the ground as the line of paratroopers advance. The tracks are easy to follow at first, holes punched in the soft crust of the thin soil, until the legionnaires reach the rocky ridgetop, forcing Vidal to backtrack once or twice to pick up the trail. The trend is north- and eastward, following the undulating ridge for a time before descending once again. Dropping back down the far side, the trail leads across a small wash and up a taller slope on the far side. After reaching a small spur on the side of the ridge, Capt. Martini calls a halt, removing a map and compass from the old leather case. “Water break,” Kat orders, dispatching Pamuk and Asmussen as lookouts. The legionnaires settle in the tiny patch of shade offered by the rocky outcrop as the captain consults his map.</blockquote>

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