A former U.S. Army sniper is hired by an international petroleum firm to assassinate a Colombian Cocaine Lord. The Houston-based firm needs the cartel cleared out in order to exploit the proven oil reserves in the region. The sniper enters the triple canopy rainforest of Central America to track down and execute his prey, where the only rules are the Law of the Jungle, and not everything is as it seems. The exact identity of this Kingpin remains unknown; there is no dossier. The target is referred to only under black ...
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A former U.S. Army sniper is hired by an international petroleum firm to assassinate a Colombian Cocaine Lord. The Houston-based firm needs the cartel cleared out in order to exploit the proven oil reserves in the region. The sniper enters the triple canopy rainforest of Central America to track down and execute his prey, where the only rules are the Law of the Jungle, and not everything is as it seems. The exact identity of this Kingpin remains unknown; there is no dossier. The target is referred to only under black whispers as: "The Chess Player." Unarmed and thus anonymous, this young man rides a public bus deep into the jungle to a small Caribbean village called Puerto Viejo - the end of the road. First, he breaks into the local police station and steals three M-16s. Then, he befriends a local Vietnam Veteran, a former member of the 173rd Airborne Brigade. The Vet clearly suffers severe PTSD and "never left the jungle," yet only this old soldier possesses the unique skills to propel the young sniper to succeed in his gambit in the jungle. The young man lives in the soldier's house, a dilapidated shack, a perfect place to remain anonymous and hide the stolen rifles. From there, the sniper observes, takes measurements, befriends local assets, and identifies targets. However, the young man is unaware that the old soldier is a wanted smuggler . . . who works with the corrupt police . . . . There are no rules . . . The best place to hide something is in plain sight . . . And absolutely: Nothing is as it seems . . . .
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