Predator Concrete Jungle 12

But he didn't see it-just something slammed him across the chest and he went over backward, weapons flying. He landed rolling, he had enough self-control for that, and he came up with a grenade in his hand. Something shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and he pulled the pin, but then he held the grenade, trying to see his target before he threw. It wasn't the creature he had fought in New York, with its yellowish skin; that would have shown up at this distance.

Instead, there was something green and black and hard to see even though it was only a few yards away...Camouflage. That damned perfect camouflage. It was the same creature. The size was right.
He threw the grenade. The thing dived aside in plenty of time-he couldn't really see it, but he could make out the faintest flicker of movement, like leaves in the wind; he'd forgotten how fast it was. Dodging grenades was easy for it, Schaefer thought as he flattened, covering his eyes against the grenade's flash to preserve his night vision.-pg.140 chpt.18