[i]Predators[/i] [i]Alanzo Falk sat upright, disorientation lasting only a moment. A message played on loop on the display in his spy mask...slay the traitor. He blinked the message away and surveyed his surroundings. Buried under a pile of trash he had gone unnoticed for the unknown amount of time he was unconscious. The wide expanse of the ramshackle hive greeted him wherever he turned. He rose and looked down for his rifle, the holy weapon lay next to him, he bent down and grabbed it, slinging it over one shoulder. Realizing his very obvious garb did not allow for the covert duties required of this stage of the mission, he grabbed a filth soaked cloth nearby and hooded himself. Starting off towards the living quarters Falk began to process his surroundings and noting areas in which to set up perches. This mission allowed no room for failure. [/i]