Krotz looked around, his eyes narrowed. He moved closer to Junior and whispered, "Well, I'm not an expert, Junior, but I've heard that they make you stuff yourself with fatty foods just to fatten you up, then torture you with wires and wild animals."

Junior's eyebrows went up in alarm. "Really? Oh shit!" He rubbed his stomach. "And I'm really thin, too!" Krotz turned away from the frightened grunt and laughed to himself.

Behind them, Vinnie Bubbelli was quietly chanting an oriental relaxation mantra that Chow had recently taught him. "Kwi gong, kai gong, mucka mucka gong," he chanted.

Major Shmolnick heard him and commented, "Private is that the Kwi Gong you're chanting?"

"Uh, yessir. You know it?"

Shmolnick looked away as if to some far-off place. "In another time and place, Private, yes, I learned the art of Kwi Gong from one of the great masters, Lee Kee Kim. Of course, that was before he went bad."

Bubbelli suddenly had newfound respect for the CIA agent. "Chow, uh, Private Chow taught it to me, sir. I find it helps, uh, relax me." He wiped some fresh sweat from his forehead.

"Well, don't get too relaxed, Private. There's going to be some action pretty soon. We're getting close to the pass." He looked away from Bubbelli.

Bubbelli nodded and resumed chanting. The chanting did nothing to stop the profuse sweating, however. The private looked behind him and noticed that the Captain was sweating too, and Pickle was limping along, batting away flies. They seemed to be talking together. Bubbelli sighed. No doubt the captain and Pickle were hatching some scheme.

Suddenly a loud "PSST" followed by two whistles from up front halted the group. Both Major Shmolnick and Captain Vic moved quickly to the where Chow was kneeling in a thick grassy patch.

Chow slid his fingers in the grass and slowly, carefully lifted up what appeared to be a trip wire. "Tlip wire, Captain."

The major bent down. "Can you trace it, Private?" he asked quietly. Captain Vic glared at him.

Chow smiled. "Chow tlace." He then meticulously ran his slender fingers along the wire through the heavy grass, up through a clump of bushes. He stood up, the trip wire still resting on his fingers, and began following the wire through more bushes for several feet, until he finally came to a stop at a tree. "Chow find," he said proudly.

The men moved to where Chow was standing to get a better look, all warily avoiding the trip wire. Junior hung the farthest back. "What the fuck is that?" he asked to nobody in particular.

What he, and the rest of the men saw, was a ten-foot high wooden contraption with numerous pointy spikes sticking ominously out. Many of the spikes were colored red and contains congealed bits of some dark material, evidence of previous unwary travellers.

"Hey Chow, a little acupuncture maybe?" Deshield commented.

"Nice job, Chow," said Captain Vic.

The major moved away from the nasty-looking device. "Okay, men, let's go. Private Chow, can you keep that wire up while we all step over it?"

Chow beamed. "Chow keep wire up, Major."

The men carefully stepped over the trip wire while Chow held his end up. When they were all through the trap, Chow defly stepped under the wire and gently set it back on the ground.

They resumed their trek through the jungle, but only for a few minutes until Major Shmolnick stopped them again. He pointed at a very narrow opening in the heavy undergrowth up ahead. "Gentlemen, prepare yourselves. There's the pass up ahead."

Junior spoke up nervously. "You mean we gotta crawl through that? Oh shit."

Part Five - Through the Pass and Over the Ridge

Chow was first through the narrow opening, followed closely by Deshield. The ground in the opening was wet with jungle ooze and all sorts of crawling things, and the pass itself continued on for about 20 yards like a tunnel through thick jungle undergrowth.

Chow crawled swiftly through the pass, seemingly unfazed by the heat and ooze. Deshield tried to keep up with the small oriental, but kept slapping at the ground beneath him at various real and imagined creeping things. "Madre mia, dey all kinds of nasty beetches in here!" he exclaimed.

The latino soldier's comment was not lost on Junior Jones, who followed him. "Hey wait up, Humanos," he called out ahead of him, falling behind in his haste to keep the bugs off himself.

"Shhh, quiet Junior," hissed Krotz from behind. "Get your ass moving, you idiot."

"I'm tryin', I'm tryin'," gulped Junior, and spurred on by fear and Krotz, he increased his crawling speed.

Krotz was close behind Junior, and was muttering to himself, "Fuckin' Junior's gonna fuck this up, I just know it."

Vinnie Bubbelli entered the pass next, followed by the major, then Pickle, and finally, Captain Vic. All except the major were having difficulty navigating the slimy wetness of the pass. Bubbelli renewed his Kwi Gong chant quietly, feeling his blood pressure rise with the tension. Pickle peeked behind him, and Captain Vic nodded at him, then the grizzled sargeant watched the major ahead of him and fingered the sharp blade strapped to his ankle.

Suddenly, Junior Jones felt something thick and slimy started moving against his legs, and he jumped up.

"OH SHIT A SNAKE!!!!" he cried, and he started to thrash through the thicket, his face getting cut up by brambles on the low hanging branches. "Owww, oh shit, oh shit!!" he kept crying, until finally he toppled into Deshield.

"What da fuck, man, get your muthafuckin' ass DOWN!!!" said Deshield, who promptly grabbed Junior's belt and hauled him roughly to the ground.

Major Shmolnick called out from behind, "KEEP THAT IDIOT DOWN, DAMMIT!!!" and Deshield started crawling again toward the passage's exit just up ahead, dragging the sniveling Junior Jones behind him. "You fuck up again, Junior, and I keel you myself, eh?" he whispered.

Chow had made it to the exit, ignoring Junior's careless outburst, and instantly rolled out and flattened himself on the ground. A few feet ahead of him lay a short ridge. Not very high, but enough for cover. Chow turned around, expecting to see Humanos Deshield.

TTTTTHHHHWAAAACK!!!!!!!

All the men in the tunnel heard the rustling sounds that followed.

"What the fuck was that!?" said Krotz, who stopped at the sound coming from outside the passage.

"Private Deshield, go check that out, NOW!" ordered Major Shmolnick, crawling rapidly past Krotz toward the exit.

Humanos Deshield turned to Junior, still held by Deshield's grasp, and whispered harshly, "Junior, stay here." Junior nodded his head vigorously.

All the men were crowded near the exit, their weapons at the ready, as Deshield slowly poked his head through the opening. "Pssst, Chow. Chow, man, joo there?" he called out quietly.

There was no response. Deshield shook his head and sighed heavily, then quickly rolled out and flattened himself on the ground. He looked around. Very quietly he called out again. "Hey Chow, quit fuckeen around, man, where are you?" He looked around. The grassy patch immediately preceeding the ridge a few feet ahead looked dissheveled and disturbed. A path could be seen leading to the crest of the ridge. Deshield poked his head back into the hole. "Captain, Chow's gone!"

"Oh SHIT!" murmured Junior.

"Shut UP," hissed Krotz and Bubbelli.

Pickle turned to Captain Vic. "What now, Cap?"

Captain Vic was about to give orders when Major Shmolnick interrupted. "Safooma's men must have gotten him. We continue as planned, Captain."

Captain Vic's eyes blazed. "Goddammit, Major, that's my MAN out there!"

"I'm well aware of that, Captain. We have our orders."

Captain Vic pursed his lips to stifled a reply, then looked at Pickle, who nodded back. Krotz and Bubbelli frowned at each other, in silent agreement with the captain's sentiments.

Deshield called back. "Hey man, let's GO!"

Shmolnick turned to Krotz. "Bubbelli, Krotz, Jones, you're with me."

Captain Vic moved through the slimey jungle floor to the opening. "Major, my group goes first. I wanna find out what happened to Chow." He quickly moved through the opening before Shmolnick could respond.

Sargeant Pickle glanced at the major and followed his captain through. The major signalled Krotz and Bubbelli to follow.

When they were all on the ridge, the two officers took out their binoculars and peeked over the grassy ridge. They saw a primitive looking campsite in a large clearing. Six small thatch-roofed huts arranged in a circle surrounded an open area. A much larger hut sat outside the circle on one side. Many armed guards patrolled the perimeter of the camp, and a large cluster of guards stood at the entrance to the larger hut. There was some activity outside one of the smaller huts that was difficult to see. A pickup truck was parked just outside the perimeter of the camp, another cluster of armed men standing around it, unloading crates from the truck. Various functionaries moved from place to place in the apparently busy camp.

Pickle spoke. "Cap, do you see Chow?"

"Yeah, Captain, what's goin' on, man?" Deshield chimed in.

"Shhhh!" ordered the major. "Alright, everybody stay down. Six huts in a circle, larger hut outside the circle. The larger hut must be Safooma's. Guards everywhere. Captain, you and your men need to get down there and create a diversion just outside the camp. Once most of Safooma's men get to where you are, Krotz will plant his charges in the camp. Krotz, Bubbelli, Jones and I will cover you."

Krotz smiled and patted the sack of explosives. "Soon now, babies, pretty soon it'll be your turn." Junior looked at him nervously and shuddered.

Sargeant Pickle took out his pillbox and popped three yellow pills into his mouth. "Gonna need an extra dose for this," he thought, and swallowed the pills.

Captain Vic looked at Major Shmolnick. "Okay, we'll be expecting you, major. You'll know when." He looked at Pickle, then at Deshield, then pointed at the ridge and nodded. The three men scrambled over the ridge.

Part Six - Assault

Captain Vic Horizon, Sargeant Pickle, and Private Humanos Deshield quickly made their way down the hill around to the left side of the woods that ringed the campsite below. The tall grass hid their movements from the guards. Pickle's knees groaned under the pressure.

When they arrived at a covered spot with a clear view of the camp, Captain Vic ordered Deshield to move forward for a better look. When the wiry latino was out of sight, the Captain turned to Pickle. "What happened back there, Pickle?"

Pickle frowned. "Cap, I almost had him in that tunnel, but that fuckin' Junior freaked out and I never got another chance."

"Yeah, well, you better get another chance, and soon. I don't want that major to get in my - uh, our way when I make this deal with Safooma. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yessir, Captain, loud and clear." Pickle massaged his knees.

Meanwhile, Major Shmolnick, Krotz, Bubbelli, and Junior had descended the grassy hill to the woods on the opposite side of the camp, closest to the large hut. Shmolnick ordered Bubbelli and Junior to get a better look at the structure, and hopefully return with a more accurate enemy count.

As Bubbelli and Jones moved silently through the tall grass, the sounds of the African guards drifted toward them. The unintelligible gibberish was nerve-wracking for Bubbelli,and he silently chanted the Kwi Gong to himself, increasing his chanting speed as he and Junior got closer to the hut.

Junior Jones was sweating and his heartbeat quickened as he felt fear like he'd never known before. Junior knew that he was not a brave man, and he very much wanted to turn and run out of this place as fast he could, but he didn't want to let the Rangers down. So he moved very slowly and cautiously toward the large hut. The guards' gibberish conversation was now much louder and Junior was so nervous that he could hear his own breathing over the sounds of the guards.

Bubbelli watched Junior get closer to the hut and the guards. "Now what is that idiot doing," he thought. Junior was just a few feet from what looked like the rear of the hut. One open square served as a window, and the frightened private could now make out gibberish coming from inside. He gripped his automatic rifle tighter, and took one step closer.

CLICK!

Junior just had time to look down at the trip wire that had caught his boot. He didn't see the heavy wooden board spring up at him from the ground, its surface covered in long, sharp, iron spikes, until the last second of his life. "OH SHI----!!!"

KACCHUNKK!!!!!!

Bubbelli winced as he watched the trap spring up and pinion poor Junior to the ground. He started to back away. "Kwi gong kwi gong kwi gong kwi gong," he chanted silently but frantically.

The guards at the hut had turned around at the first CLICK, and rushed to the trap, their rifles at the ready. They saw the back of the trapboard on the ground, and two white man's arms, blood dripping from them in rivulets, flailing from beneath the board. The guards looked at each other and mumbled something, then threw their weapons aside and lifted the board up and back to its resting position. Junior Jones' life was ebbing away, the spikes driven through his body filling his mind with unbearable pain.

Seeing the two dark figures through a fuzzy haze of sweat and blood, Junior tried to speak. "Gggghhh--heh- heh-hehllllll-gllllgggl--llllppp mmmghllllmmee."

The two africans looked at one another and laughed, then one reached from behind his back, pulled out a large serrated knife, and swiftly cut Junior's throat from ear to ear. Junior's head slumped. The guard wiped the blade on his own dusty cream-colored pants, then replaced the knife.

As both guards took up their rifles, more guards appeared. Excited gibberish and increased activity now filled that part of the camp. Guards moved quickly toward Bubbelli's location. The nervous private tried to back away, but when he turned his head around, he found himself looking directly into the barrel of a rifle being held by large callused black hands. Bubbelli dropped his head and retched.

Major Shmolnick looked through his binoculars as Bubbelli was roughly made to stand up, had his hands tied behind his back, and marched into the camp. He turned to Krotz. "Private, it's time for you to work your magic. I want charges placed all around that hut up there. MOVE!"

Krotz smiled grimly. "Yessir!" He patted his sack of explosives and said quietly, "Here we go, my pretties." He moved off through the tall grass.

Across the camp, Captain Vic watched the increased activity on the other side of the camp through his binoculars with growing disgust. "Goddammit!" he spat, "what's that sonofabitch doing!?" He turned to Pickle. "Pickle, get over there and take that prick out NOW!!"

The grizzled sargeant sighed and, his ruined knees grinding, forced himself forward through the grass. Humanos Deshield had secreted himself in a small low patch just outside the perimeter of the camp. Although he couldn't see any details of what was happening on the far side of the camp, he could hear the shouting and sounds of increased activity in that general area. He crossed himself. One small hut was several feet in front of him, with a small opening for a window, and no guards in sight. He kept quiet, and was able to hear a strange sound coming from within the hut in front of him. Curious, he moved slowly forward, his hand tensed and ready on his gun.

The sound grew slightly louder, and Deshield cocked his head like a confused dog. The sound became light and lilting, almost like - a woman singing? Deshield shook his head as if to erase the sound from his head. He moved closer, the window in the hut now just a few feet above and in front of him. "Santa Maria, a woman out here?" he thought. Yes, it was clear now, it definitely was a woman's voice. Deshield licked his lips and crept up to the building. The humming had stopped. He lay on the ground for several minutes, listening for the intriguing sound.

Suddenly, a large warm hand covered his mouth, a hand so large that it covered half of Deshield's face. Before he could move, another large hand pulled his arm behind his back and twisted it. Deshield's cry of pain was muffled by the hand covering his mouth. He struggled wildly, but could not seem to move. As consciousness left him, he thought he felt himself being carried away.

Major Shmolnick lay low for a long time, waiting for the activity near the large hut to die down. He felt truly sorry about Private Jones, but the kid just didn't have what it takes. He wondered for a brief moment about the fates of Chow and Bubbelli. He shrugged off such thoughts. He would just have to wait for Krotz to plant his charges, then all hell would break loose.

Suddenly he heard a shuffling sound from behind him. He turned around and the grizzled Sargeant Pickle was upon him, a large knife slashing through the air. Shmolnick rolled aside, and Pickle just narrowly missed him, his knife blade stabbing the ground instead. Pickle yanked the knife from the ground and launched himself at the major again.