"Now!" she cried as she came barreling between the trees.

Jason came through seconds later and a weighted steel net dropped down over him.

Arc lights flooded the scene as SWAT armored men poured from the surrounding woods like angry ants, each drawing a bead on the dirty white hockey mask beneath the steel net. Jason flailed with soundless fury as a pair of finger-sized tranquilizer darts embedded themselves in the cold flesh of his neck.

Dina quickly found her stash of extra clothing and gear. She barely had time to fasten the Velcro on her Kevlar vest when she heard a high, womanish shriek, followed by a deafening burst of gunfire.

She was still barefoot when she spun to see one of her team go down in a showy gush of arterial spray. Jason had torn through the steel mesh like it was lingerie, easily freeing his machete hand and slicing the man's throat to the bone.

"Kenworth!" Dina called to her team leader. "Foam!"

Reid Kenworth was not a man who got flustered when the shit hit the fan. He nodded tersely and tossed Dina a device that looked like a space-age backpack vacuum cleaner.

Meanwhile, two other men were dragging their dying buddy out of the fray while Brian and several others emptied their clips into Jason's uncaring bulk. Jason shrugged off the bullets as if they were mosquitoes, and easily pulled himself completely free of the netting, slashing the face of the man to his right, then sinking his machete deep into Brian's muscular thigh. Brian clutched at his bleeding leg and tumbled awkwardly backward, directly into his teammate's line of fire. Bullets flattened themselves against his Kevlar and he grunted, collapsing semiconscious to the ground.

"Hold your fire!” Kenworth called.

Panic reigned over the harshly lit, chaotic scene as Jason advanced on the terrified shooters, calm and undaunted.

Chapter 1, Friday the 13th: The Jason Strain