After a little bit of prep work and a post-cleanup routine—hauling the heads to our vehicles and burning the rest of their bodies in a huge pile—we made our way to Seb and company's Main HQ a.k.a The Philippine Military Academy. It was supposedly the biggest one and the most well-equipped DDR Camp in this area or even this island group—though Seb and his group's gear said otherwise.
It was because they only had pistol rounds and shotgun shells on their loadout, not to mention the mismatched machetes they had with their K-Bar knives.
With that said, the drive would take about close to two hours because it was farther than the private hot spring we were supposed to head to first.
We were now in a new frequency with our new acquaintances but it was easy enough to switch back to our previous channel, and for them to do the same—if they ever had a channel for their group, division, or even as a whole.
Helping them with their head problem gave us some brownie points with their group but the same couldn't be same for their place as a collective. However, knowing that the De Leon Family already made contact with this group and have an ongoing deal with them told me they wouldn't be stupidly hostile and if worst comes to worst, I have a couple of things in my goodie bag.
'And that's assuming that this DDR Camp is still on the president's side and has not gone secretly AWOL...'
With that in mind, we drove for around 20 minutes before we spotted a couple of military jeeps holding a checkpoint of sorts, and the vehicles Seb's group slowed down as we approached it.
-
*bzzt*
[I'll do the talking, alright? I forgot to tell you that we shouldn't be driving together like this but it's a special circumstance.]
*bzzt*
-
Quinn instantly rolled her eyes as she shook her head, "And he tells us that now? Sounds bull to me."
I said, "You don't know if it's real or not?"
It was because I'm pining on the fact that this Saludario dude might recognize Jose once their eyes met but there was also the chance that he might not because of Jose's drastic makeover. Furthermore, who would fucking think that an officer that reports to the president would turn up tatted-up with a haircut similar to the local brand of detergent soap?
However, there was also the issue of the president's soldiers—even officers—joining the other side or straight-up deserting their post, so if things start to get complicated, it would be better to straighten things out.
The last thing I'd want would be a false tip into the wrong ears and that'd be a mess I wasn't even willing to think about.
It's just that I saw something peculiar when the two finally met eyes.
Saludario had his back facing me while Jose had his elbow resting by the door, but the moment Saludario tried to raise his right arm—for a salute or something similar, I guess—Jose quickly stopped him by diverting his attention to his own rifle.
"Woah! Your safety's off, dude! Do you leave them off, always?"
"Wha— I—"
"Be careful when running with that. Even though it's pointed down, one wrong bounce and you might hit someone! Your dust cover too, flip it up!"
"Y-Yes, si—"
"Fuck! I shouldn't be telling you shit because you know better but know that it's better to have things 'under control', eh? Surprises are good but not negligent discharges! Hah! Get it?"
"Y-Yes..."
At this point, the guy just gave Jose a quick nod before they let us on our way, but I didn't get why Jose had to be so secretive about it. There was no fucking way that things could've gone South if he let it be known that he was under the same banner as them, and if we were a little luckier, they could've sent a special convoy to accompany us.
But yeah, it's in his own discretion to be discreet but it's also in my discretion to ask questions later.
'Let's see where we're at right now...'