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by Wiz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Other · Military · #1864023
The beginning of American soldier Duke Meyers epic trek through South America.
The 142nd


CHAPTER 1

The Year 2019:

“Aw, crap”
         Those simple words were all that needed to be said as Corp. Duke Meyers waded through the muddy swamp of southern Peru.

“What’s the matter Duke? Yer’ shoes getting muddy?”
         teased Srg. John Wilkins, Dukes long-time friend and fellow member of the 142nd Battalion.

“What’s the matter? What’s the matter? I’m sick and tired of rumblin’ through these damn rain forests! My legs are like a Christmas Ham for these ants!”

“Hey ladies! You sound like a bunch of whiny school girls! Now cut the chatter!” yelled Sergeant Major Mick Johnson, the leader of their fire team. Mick Johnson was in his early 40’s, and your stereotypical army soldier. He was notorious for having a cigar bud in his mouth 24/7, even if he wasn’t always smoking them. He earned respect from his soldiers, although they had no choice. He demanded respect.

         The 142nd Battalion was one of the first, and longest stationed Battalions at Peru, the staging area for the U.S.’s invasion of Southern South America. The politics of the war never really stuck with Duke Meyers, who always had a rather easy job with the military, up until now. He was in his late twenties, and what some would call American trailer trash. He had dirty blonde hair, and a baby face he would never hear the end of. He was always that kind of guy who trouble was attracted to, and he could never figure out why. If you spent 5 minutes with him, you would know. He had a big mouth. He wasn’t exactly Einstein either. Heck, he barely knew why he was at war.

          He just remembered having his door kicked down by Sergeant Mick telling him to go get ready, they were going on a “field trip”. When Duke asked how long they would be gone, Mick promptly replied, “ The way you shoot a rifle , we may never come back. Now hurry up!” Its been a long 2 months, to say the least, lots of mud, bugs, snakes and extremely violent South Americans protecting their homeland. That’s the life of an American soldier during the North American war in the 142nd Battalion.



CHAPTER 2

         “RING RING…. RING….RI-”
The alarm shouted off loudly, and The President of the United States hit the snooze button. It was understandable of course, the Leader of the Free World had quite a week. He handled the act of war from the U.C.S.A  brilliantly and decisively, earning him nation wide praise, even from his biggest critics…. and why not? He dropped the metaphorical hammer down hard, deploying the troops of the U.S. with the speed and strategic genius of a well seasoned army general. Some people described it, “as if he already knew the attack was coming.” They didn’t know the half of it.
         However, despite the exhausting week he just had, the President tends to be a little busy during war. A knock rang,

“ Sir, your motorcade leaves for Andrews Air Force Base in a little under an hour.”

The President groaned, “ Umm yes, thank you Aaron, I will be ready soon.”

         President Daniel Johnson had spent the last week at peace negotiations in Southern Mexico, away from the glaring eyes of the ever story hungry media. Of course, he had no intentions of peace, as peace and compromise were not on his presidential agenda. You see, Johnson had a secret. A secret only known by his chief of staff, Larry Sanders and his most trusted cabinet advisors. It was a secret that was to never be heard, recorded or spoken of. A secret that would blow the country off of its foundations. The President did not feel a ping of guilt in his conscious.
         Daniel Johnson had a unique point of view, some would call it…. “unethical”. He thought of it as the only way to run this country. Everyone knew that the American Government had some secrets, some dirty deeds to protect the common good. The morals that America was built and run on had to be protected, because you see, keeping America running safely required some decisions that would land in a moral grey area. In his mind, what he was doing was 100% right. You may ask then, why was he keeping it a secret? Well, Johnson knew that his ideals aren’t exactly shared with the general population of the U.S.A., so he had to keep it a secret. America couldn’t handle the truth. The truth, would ruin everything.

At least, that’s how The President of the United States of America looked at it.


CHAPTER 3

         The 142nd battalion quickly became one of the most decorated groups in the war. They were the first ones in after the marines and the Air Force, and would probably be the last ones out. Their current mission was to establish a base camp in Southern Peru, in order to have a staging area for an invasion of Brazil and Chile.
         So they deployed, set up shop, and started to send out Platoons and Fire teams to snuff out enemies and scout the area. One specific fire team had performed especially well, to everyone’s surprise. The man who was most surprised at their success was Corp. Duke Meyers, who happened to be a member of that fire team. It was relatively small, with about 12 people, but they had wonderful chemistry and an unwavering patriotism in the face of danger. Currently, they were scouting an unmapped area of the jungle a couple miles away from base camp.

“ Jeez boss, how long do we have to stomp around through these woods? There ain’t nothing’ here.” complained Duke Meyers, never at a loss for words.

“ Maybe when you start acting like a man, instead of a little girl.” quipped Mick Johnson, leader of the fire team, who was never at a loss for insults.

“ Hey Duke, don’t this remind you of that one swamp we went fishin’ in awhile back? cept’ for them pretty birds and crazy Brazilians shootin’ at us!” said John Wilkins, Dukes best friend since high school.

“ Well maybe we should take a fishing break, give my legs a rest, aye Mick?” asked Duke.

“ Meyers….. shut the hell up.” Mick Johnson said, and chatter ceased.

“ Sorry Captain, I did-” , and that’s when the bullet pierced through Srg. John Wilkins chest.

CHAPTER 4

“ Holy s#@$, what the hell was that! “

“SNIPER, SNIPER! TAKE COVER!”

“ WILKINS IS DOWN, REPEAT, WILKINS IS DOWN”

Chaos erupted in the Jungle, as bullets started flying around like a swarm of pissed of bees. The bullets seemingly came out of nowhere, appearing out of thin air. Duke ducked against a tree, helpless against the barrage of shrapnel. The fire team was devastated, and suddenly, the fire ceased.

“ Are we clear?”

Mick Johnson had had enough of this chaos, he didn’t like disorganization.

“ Everyone shut-up and keep your heads down. It was a hit and run, but believe me they will be back. I will radio for assistance!”

Mick turned on the radio, and nothing but static boomed out of the speaker. A flurry of swear words that would make sailors cry followed.
“ I can’t get headquarters, we must have had our signals jammed. Did anybody get a visual on the enemy?”

“ No sir,” replied Corp. Barry McMullen, “ They came out of nowhere, then disappeared out of thin air. Hell, I’m just assuming they were those dirty Aztecs.”

Aztecs were the name the U.S. troops gave to the U.C.S.A troops, and offense was intended.

“ Of course they were dirty Aztecs,” said Mick, “ Who the hell else would it be.”

They had no idea that they were just attacked by a special unit of troops that were under the direct command of President Daniel Johnson.

CHAPTER 5

“ Was the attack successful?” Asked President Daniel Johnson, speaking to Tom Nash, head of the Presidential Agenda Managers, a secret group of highly trained special ops soldiers who silently carry out the Presidents will, no questions asked.

         Tom Nash was the head of this group. He was a middle aged man, a former CIA agent who had changed his name so many times that he didn’t remember what his birth name was. He was a highly decorated agent, and was personally recommended by the head of the CIA to lead this new group, The PAM. The stress of the job had obvious affects. Nash was already balding, with gray hairs appearing at a rapid pace. He loved his country, and believed in more power for the president. He was also willing to do what was necessary, which made him the perfect man for the job.

“ Yes sir, the attack was virtually successful, they didn’t see our headquarters, not a single bit of it.”

“What do you mean “virtually” Mr. Nash?”

“ Well sir, there were heavy casualties within the fire team, the snipers must have deemed it necessary.”

It was there Mr. Nash realized how terribly wrong he worded that statement.

“ They must have deemed it necessary? My orders are what they should, "deem necessary."

“ Im sorry sir, I w-”

“ Im not done talking Mr. Nash, you know better than to interrupt the President, don’t you? Now never disobey a direct order from me again, especially when American lives hang in the balance. Now, I assume that the soldiers are making their way back to base?”

“ Actually sir, I just received reports that they have decided to push on to find an area to contact base, instead of making the trip back, they must think that they can escape our sensor jammer…” a bead of nervous sweat trickled down Nash’s forehead, he didn’t like being the bearer of bad news to the President.

“ Oh… this is bad.” Johnson buried his head in his hands and sighed. “ Well we have no choice….. kill them.” He ordered, with little hint of remorse in his voice.

“ Yes sir, right away sir. Consider them gone.”


CHAPTER 6

“ Sir, were not going back to base are we? Wilkins won’t be able to make it that far!”

“ No soldier, we leave no man behind.”

         Duke Meyers was doing his best to stop the bleeding, but he didn’t exactly have a hospital, just a dusty old rag, already overflowing with blood. The fire team faced a tough decision…. should they head back to base, report the incident safe and sound? Or should they push forward to get away from the signal jammer, and call for help, the only way to save Wilkins life? For Mick Johnson, there was never any question, he would push on. You left no man behind to bleed to death, and if you did, you deserved to die yourself.

“ Meyers, you stay here. Keep Wilkins alive as long as you can. The rest of you, move out, this is no picnic!”

The rest of the troops sprinted ahead, doing all in their power to save their dying comrade….

         15 minutes passed, and there was no word form Mick. Suddenly, Wilkins spoke.

“ Duke….. man  I’m a goner man, don’t worry about me…”

“ Shut-up Wilkins, I’m not leaving you behind.”

Duke could feel he was fading, a tear swelled up in his eye.

“ Duke…. I…. I have no regrets man….. make sure my beautiful wife knows that….. and that she knows I love her…… tell her that….. okay?”

“ Wilkins don’t…. don’t give up they will be hear any second, you hear?”
“ Duke, I’m an idiot, and even I know that….. that that’s not go…nna  happen. I’ll talk to you….. later…. but hopefully…. hopefully much later.”

         John Wilkins was dead. Duke Meyers wiped the tears out of his eyes, and tried to go catch up to the group, eyes watering.

         Duke Meyers ran awhile, and could see some sort of structure ahead. Where was the fire team?  They were nowhere to be seen, no tracks, no trace. What in the world was going on? They must have been taken prisoner. Or maybe they went back to base? He had no idea. Suddenly, shots fired through the air. A chorus of booms and gunpowder filled the air, and a chill ran down his spine.

CHAPTER 7

         Against his better judgment, Duke decided to investigate. He followed the booms and piercing shrieks of the bullets, it certainly didn’t sound good. It had to be his fire team, he thought. Who else could it be? As he approached the area where the bullets were coming from, he crouched low, trying to stay hidden. He could see people on the other side of this bush! He ducked into the bush, and peeked through. A gruesome sight awaited him.
         He saw bodies. Bodies of the fire team spread out across the moist, cold jungle floor, obviously lifeless. He shuddered, who were these cold, calculating people? These were not Aztecs, they were too professional, too well organized. The soldiers from the U.C.S.A so far had been poorly trained and equipped, thrown together and raggedy. He finally got a look at the enemies who had taken his friends life. There were about 5 of them, in all black uniforms, no logos or sign of who they are. They were perched in the canopy of the massive trees, very well hidden. They were hard to see and were heavily armed. They had sniper rifles, assault rifles, all with advanced technology and silencers. They were shooting consistently and as a complete team, in perfect unison. He looked over behind a giant log, and saw a promising scene.
         Mick Johnson and about 4 other men were camped behind a massive log, trying to fend off the opposition. They were getting hammered, and couldn’t get a shot off. Mick was barking orders, doing his best to keep them together… and alive. They were doing well, but wouldn’t last much longer. Duke had to help them, so he fell into an army crawl, and started moving slowly around to flank them. He didn’t really have a plan, but then again, he never really did before.
         He eventually managed to get around them, and spotted the ladder they must have used to get to their posts. He silently crawled up the ladder, being careful not to be heard. He got to the top, and was about 5 feet from the group. He was spotted. They all turned, shocked how he managed to sneak up on them. Duke thought he was screwed, but forgot that Mick Johnson was down below them.
         Mick saw Duke as he made his way up the ladder. He wish he could radio him, because Mick felt the need to tell Duke he was an idiot, and he was going to get himself killed. He knew Duke would get spotted the second he reached the top of the ladder.

“ Listen hear ladies, hold your fire. The second Duke gets to the top, that’s when we will get our shot to take em’ down. Don’t miss, or we will all die. No pressure of course.”
         The second they all turned, the fire team popped out of cover, each of them taking one shot at their enemy, the fate of their lives were in the balance, it all came down to whether those bullets hit their mark.
         
CHAPTER 7

…. luckily they did. The bullets hit their mark with dead accuracy, and the mysterious troops dropped like flies. Duke sighed, relieved. Mick poked his head out of his cover, lit a cigar, and sweared. His face was bright red like an apple, or maybe more accurately, a volcano.

“ Duke! What the hell are you doing, you flea ridden, pea-brained doofus!” Mick Johnson screamed, spittle flying through the air like shrapnel…

“ I’m savin’ yer life that’s what, now who the hell were they?”

“ Your guess is as good as mine Meyers, they could be teletubbies for all we know.”

“ Well than, what should we do? Head back to base?” Duke questioned,

“ What else are we gonna do Meyers? Go camping? Now move out, before we all get bullets to the brain for dinner!”

They didn’t see the P.A.M troop hiding in the bushes, talking into his radio.

“ Mr. Nash, they’re heading back to base. What are your orders?”

Nash sighed, how could that attack of failed? Aren’t the P.A.M the best of the best?

“ Continue to tail them, and keep me posted on their location, a team will intercept them.”

“ Yes sir, consider it done.”

“ I do.” said Nash. Now he had to go give the bad news to the President, who was already in a bad mood.

He sighed… “ They don’t pay me enough for this.”

CHAPTER 9

“ ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! The “ best of the best” couldn’t finish off a bunch of under trained, worn out rednecks, who couldn’t hit water from the middle of the ocean?”

President Johnson did not respond well, but quickly regained his composure, remembering he was the President, and couldn’t loose his cool like that. And then he remembered, he was the President, and could do whatever the hell he wanted to.

“ What am I even paying you for? I should send in the FBI, even they aren’t stupider than you and your pack of immoral, underpaid, underachievers! What do you have to say for yourself?”

Nash was considering quitting right there on the spot, but he realized if he did, he would probably end up on the beach with no teeth or fingerprints, so he swallowed his pride.

“ It won’t happen again sir, we are fixing the problem as we speak, troops are on their way to intercept-and eliminate them.”

Johnson sighed, and put his head in his hands to compose himself, in a second or too, he was back to his cool, calm, collected self.

“ Well I have the utmost faith in you, considering how well you have done this far. Report back when the job is done, and only when the job is done. I don’t think I can take anymore bad news. My blood pressure has probably skyrocketed.”

“ Yes sir, Mr. President, consider it done.”

“ I don’t.’ The President said, and hung up.

The President gazed out the window of Air Force One, ready to land and fake peace talks with those South American bimbos. He looked down at his chessboard. The game had been a passion for him since he was a little kid. A few years into his career as a lawyer, he soon realized that the world was one big game of chess. That was the year he got into politics, and America would never be the same, and he knew that.

He just didn’t know whether it was going to be a good or bad change.

CHAPTER 10:

“I am tired of this stupid, bug ridden jungle!” Meyers complained,

“ Well im tired of you whining 24/7, you sound like my 14 year old daughter! You know what, im not going to insult my daughter like that! Now shut the hell up and keep moving.”

He sighed, teeth gritted, “ Sir yes sir.”

         The 7 soldiers had made surprisingly solid progress through the merciless undergrowth of the jungle, with only minor complaining. They stayed aware, never forgetting how those mysterious soldiers had a knack of appearing out of thin air.

“Maybe their ninjas….” muttered Duke

“ No…ninjas don’t carry guns man!” responded Gavin, one of the surviving troops.

“ Have you ever seen a ninja?”

“No”

“ Then how could you possibly know what weapon there carrying?”

Mick shook his head, “ What has the U.S. army come too…”

         Then, the base came into view. It was your basic military camp, sentry’s  at every vantage point, ever watchful. Tents put up everywhere, each serving a purpose. Busy soldiers walking around accomplishing everyday tasks, recon teams leaving, jeeps buzzing around. The general himself came out to greet them.

“ Well look who it is, what the hell happened to you?”

Mick straightened up, “ Sir, we were attacked by an unidentified group of well armed, highly trained soldiers, most certainly not Aztecs. Our communications were jammed, and they had some kind of well hidden HQ. This is all that’s left of the fire team.”

The generals eyes widened, he thought it over for a second,

“ Hmm… okay, glad some of you made it back, sorry for the soldiers who didn’t return, now report to debriefing immediately, so we can find out who attacked you.”

The general saluted, and a piercing sound filled the air. The General shook, then crumpled to the ground, as if someone turned an off switch.

Chaos Erupted.

         Soldiers dropped from trees, firing constantly, helicopters came swirling around like massive eagles, chain guns firing from the side. Fires erupted, bodys dropped, tents tore open, then flattened like sails. Duke and Mick dropped to the ground, and rolled into a nearby ditch, narrowly avoiding a stream of screaming metals, while bodies from their comrades dropped all around them. And then, as soon as it started, it was over. 

Silence filled the air.



CHAPTER 11

         President Johnson entered the room, and applause rang. Reprentitives from the U.C.S.A, the enemy the U.S. was currently fighting. Suffice to say,

They didn’t shake hands.

The main representative, Gabriel Sanchez, spoke first.

“ Mr. President, we must stress, we did not authorize those fighters that entered your airspace, they acted on their own power.”

         Johnson sighed, he had heard this hundreds of times. Of course, they were right. He had faked the whole thing. According to the media, A squad of U.C.S.A fighters, under clear radio control, had covertly attempted to enter the United States airspace, and fired upon U.S. soldiers. The president had promptly issued a retaliation, and the war had begun. The President had hired those fighters, and faked a radio signal he used to trick everyone to believe that the U.C.S.A had given the order. Johnson would only except peace if the U.C.S.A would have harsh trade restrictions imposed, and their oil supply ceased, he couldn’t risk them attacking again of course.

“ But we will not except your ludicrous terms, Johnson. We can surely come to an agreement that will not drown our countries economy for years to come!”

         So the peace talks were at a gridlock. The President stood,

“ I have heard enough of this garbage. You tried to covertly assault the country under my protection, and refuse to pay the consequences. You have refused to except blame, and we will not be pushed around. Goodbye, Mr. Sanchez, I will see you when you sign your surrender.”

         The President stood, and walked out. A grin shown on his face.

“ Like pawns…. like pawns.” he thought to himself.

That night on the news, the country sang his praises.

CHAPTER 12

         “ You lost them?!” exclaimed President Johnson, speaking to Mr. Nash,

“ The two people in the WHOLE camp who knew the secret….and you don’t kill them?”

Mr. Nash sighed…. here we go again.

“ Sir, they haven’t escaped yet, the search is not over.”

President Johnson sighed…who were these idiots in the so called “best of the best”, could he rely on anybody besides himself?

“ Well I hope for your sake, you find them before they get word out.”

“ Don’t worry sir, Commander Lance has just arrived….. and he gets the job done.”

CHAPTER 13

         The jeep screamed across the jungle, leaving water and mud flying behind it. The jeep was all black, no logos or insignias to speak off. There were two men in the car, the driver, in all black, basic P.A.M soldier. The passenger, was a white male, wearing straight black sunglasses, a black utility vest, and a beret. You couldn’t see into his eyes, but if you could, you would see nothing but a cold, icy stare. This was Commander Lance, Field Commander of the Presidential Agenda Managers. He was feared by all under his command, and demanded success.

“ Sir, were at the base camp.”

         The jeep pulled into the camp, and all of the soldiers stood and saluted. Lance stepped out of the jeep, surveying the situation. The man in charge of the search stepped up.

“ Hello, sir.”

“ Whats the situation?” Lances voice was cold, void of emotion.

“ Sir we haven’t found them yet, but we are currently widening the sea-”

That’s as far as he got before the bullet pierced his chest, and he lifelessly thumped to the ground. Lance holstered his weapon,

“ Widen the search parameters, surround the camp in every possible avenue of escape, they can’t have gotten far. We will trap them in this area, and wait it out until they slip up, or the jungle takes them.”








CHAPTER 14

“ They don’t pay me enough for this.” Complained Duke, as he and Mick trudged through the nasty mud of the jungle. It was sunset, and the jungle was glimmering, but they didn’t have time to gaze at the scenery.

“ Ok then Duke, why don’t you go turn yourself in? That way I don’t have to hear your mouth run.”

They had spent the past two hours crawling through the jungle, stopping and hiding to avoid the occasional patrol. As the day wore on, there seemed to be more and more of them. Luckily for them, the jungle is one of the easiest ways to lose someone. The darkness would only help them more.

“ Do you have any idea where we are, Mick?”

“ First of all, its Sir to you Corporal. And to answer your question, I have absolutely no idea where the hell we are.” He sat down on a log, and put his hands on his head..
“ I’m too old for this.”

Duke stopped walking, “ Sir, I think we are near the Amazon river…”

Mick stood up, “And what gives you that I-” His jaw dropped.

         Just past the brush, the scenery opened up, and the massive river opened up in front of them. The Amazon river was known as a great place to go white water rafting. They could see why, the water rushed at a rapid pace, smashing rocks to pieces on its way down the river. Waves crashed against the shore, a majestic, unrelenting power, glittering white in the bright sunset. Animals were scarce, scared away by the war. It was like a massive barrier separating the rain forest. It went on as far as the eye could see.

“ Oh, s***”

         This was bad news for Mick and Duke, they were trapped. They would have to either follow the river until they found somewhere to cross, or they would have to turn around and go back the way they came, which was a suicide mission. As they realized the direness of their situation, the jungle swallowed up the sun, and darkness fell around them.


CHAPTER 15

         Commander Bradley Lance had a crappy childhood. He never had any parents, they were killed in cold blood by a robber. So he spent his days in one run down orphanage to the other, by himself. He kept himself busy by hearing stories of the Marines, the few, the proud.          He also heard stories of Al Capone, Blackbeard, and the criminals of the world. He couldn’t decide which one to be. He would love to have the power and control of a Mob boss, but prison would not suit him. He hated high school, where he was bullied and belittled constantly, until he threw himself into Martial Arts. He was naturally talented, and equally ruthless, and the bullying ended there. He got into some shady deals, but quickly rose the ranks of the drug cartel. He was rolling in money, but quickly bailed, getting out while he was on top. One week after he dropped out of the crime game, his gangs entire stash, and everyone involved were busted. Except him, he was already to the other coast, enlisting in the military.
         He was a rising star in the military, and quickly rose in the ranks to Captain, then General, but ran into some trouble for being “too harsh”. He thought it was ridiculous. The strong will continue, the weak have no place. He was considering retiring, before he got a call from a Mr. Nash, with an opportunity. The rest was history.
         He never reflected on his past, he was to busy on the present. And right now, he was hunting down the missing soldiers, and it wasn’t going well. He arrived at the Amazon, and stopped. He saw something. Tracks. Small, and barely noticeable, but they were there. And they ran along the shore, the soldiers were obviously looking for a place to cross.
         He chuckled coldly, “ Game over.” And he started along the shore, backed by 4 highly trained soldiers and a sniper rifle on his back.


CHAPTER 16

         President Johnson was extremely stressed. These soldiers were causing him a lot of trouble. They just would not die, it was remarkable. He could not even imagine the repercussions if the public found out about this, it could potentially destroy the entire nation. Destroy there credibility, they would be a laughing stock, a hated laughing stock.
He wasn’t going to let that happen.

         The P.A.M set up their H.Q. in Peru in the most dangerous part of the jungle, dangerous wildlife of all kinds. Unfortunately, they did not realize how much of the wildlife would be spooked away from the constant gunfire and war. Lots of soldiers would continually stumble upon the base, and they would have to be ambushed by the South American soldiers, and that could get extremely sloppy. This situation was the perfect example. Johnson never believed in luck, he though everything was for a reason.

         These troublesome soldiers were beginning to change his mind. They had escaped from the best soldiers the U.S. had to offer, better than the Navy Seals and Delta combined, not 1, not 2, but 3 times. And even as he spoke, the continued to elude the most ruthless commander the U.S. army had ever seen. Life really was like a game of chess. So far he had shown his pawns, bishops, knights, rooks, and even his Queen, Commander Lance.

It was time to show his king.
Chapter 17

         Duke was tired….and pissed. He could have been hanging back out at base with his best friend, playing basketball, waiting for his next assignment. But no, he was walking along the Amazon for endless hours, looking to get away from these insane mercenaries who had some kind of grudge against him, and would not give up in trying to kill him. They were faster, stronger, and had better equipment, but Duke had something no amount of money, or training could give them.

Duke was lucky.

         He knew it, and he would not deny it if you accused him of being lucky. It was with him all his life. He would win raffles as a child, get a seat next to a giant map during a geography test, or find 100 dollars on the street. Or you know, bigger things, like evading ruthless mercenaries trying to kill him. He really needed that luck now.
         Him and Mick had been walking along the Amazon for hours on hours, and saw no sign of being able to cross. He was praying for a miracle.

They pushed through a dense area, and found it.

         They stumbled upon a small clearing, and in that clearing, a small airport. And there was somebody there, loading a plane.

Mick’s cigar dropped from is mouth.

“ I think we just found our way to cross.”

         The man loading the plane was an average weight and height, with a grey and brown shaggy, un-groomed beard. He had a worn down hat, with sunglasses and cargo pants. He had a worn-out Air Force Jacket, and a cigarette bud in his mouth. He turned towards them, and a smile flashed across his face.

“ Hey there, how’s it going?”

Mick and Duke were taken back, why was this carefree pilot squatting in a war zone? Mick spoke up,

“ Um, good, very good. What are you doing out here?”

“ Cargo shipments, but my business is pretty much done for. Nobody likes there cargo flying through a war zone, so im packing up and moving somewhere new.”

Mick did not trust this guy at all, too many unanswered questions.

“ Why are you just packing up now? The war has been going on for months.”
The man chuckled,

“ I don’t really know, I kinda liked this here spot, you know? Its peaceful, lika’ good fishin’ spot. Now a better question would be, what are 2 U.S. soldiers wanderin’ around these parts?”

“ Just on our rounds, recon.”

Duke turned sharply,

“ Ugh Sergeant….sidebar?”

Mick sighed. They walked a little ways over, out of earshot.

“ Umm…. Mick? Why are you lying to the man? He can get us across that river, or to safety.”

“ I don’t trust him. His story has too many holes, too many unanswered questions. I feel it in my gut.”

“ Hmm…so we are going to die walking along the Amazon because of your gut? Take a damn tums and lets get on that plane! We need to leave this place, now.”

Mick spit, a scowl curved unto his face,

“ Fine. We will see if he can take us.”

They walked back over to the plane, where the man was loading the plane.

“ Well sir, if you have enough room, you mind if we hitch a ride? We could use a lift somewhere.”

The man chuckled,

“ Well of course I got room for a couple of fellow soldiers! The name is Wally by the way. Im just headed back towards Mexico, getting’ in a safe area, you know?”

“ Well thank you very much Wally. Are you about ready to take off?”

“ Yes a ree‘, I was just gonna’ fire up the propellers. Hop in!”

         So the three of them hopped into the rusty, old school propeller plane. It was gray, with scratches all over it, with red stripes that were barely visible. It would not pass any kind of safety inspection, that’s for sure. It was running though, and that’s all that mattered. Wally turned it on, and the plane sputtered to life, and then died. He turned it on again, and it sputtered to life, then died. He started it again, and this time it roared to life, and started down the runway.

Wally erupted with a joyful laughter.

“ Here we go boys, fasten your seatbelts!….oh wait, there aren’t any….well hold on!”

         The plane sped down the runway like an old dog limping along the road. It managed to take off, and struggled to stay in the air. It felt like it was about to crash, but then it hit a second wind, and shot into the air like a arrow from a bow.

“ Oh yea! There we go! Lets head to Mexico boys!”

Just then, the .50 Caliber sniper riffle bullet pierced the hull, and the plane dropped out of the sky.

CHAPTER 18

         The bullet pierced through the hull, and a flame exploded inside the cargo area. The plane rumbled, and busted, metal shot in every direction as the plane plummeted downward.

“ Holy s***!” Duke yelled, “ What was that?”

Wally swore, “ Sounds lika’ bullet hit the hull, were goin’ down hard!”

“ It has to be those Aztecs!” Mick added.

“ Grab them emergency chutes’ in that compartment!”

Duke stumbled across the plane, and hastily grabbed 3 parachutes.

         They strapped on the parachutes as fire engulfed the plane, and it came closer and closer to a collision with the unforgiving ground.

“ Are we high enough to jump!?” Duke yelled over the whine of the planes engine.

“ No! But were gon’ have to anyway! Now pray to yer maker, and jump!”

         Wally, Duke, and Mick leaped out of the plane, just as the cockpit disintegrated in a flurry of explosions, and engulfed the entire plane in a blanket of fire.

         The three men plummeted towards the earth, and hastily pulled their parachutes, wind hitting them in the face like water from a hose, the g-force engulfing them. The world became a blur of trees and ferocious water, their senses disorientated. The wind swayed them back in forth, between smashing against water, trees or ground, never committing to one option. Mick and Duke smashed  against each other, spun around like a top, and then finally were taken towards the towering trees by the powerful gusts of wind.
         
         Duke turned to glance at Wally, and witnessed a horrifying site. Another bullet shredded through his parachute like a knife through butter, and then another bullet smashed against his leg, ripping it from his body. Then yet another bullet pierced his neck, sucking the life from his body like the Grim Reapers vacuum cleaner. His lifeless body plummeted down into the Amazon, and the relentless current swept his body away as if it was never even there.

         So Duke just sat there for a second, wind bursting against him, and said, did nothing in the face of such a terrible site. He finally turned forward, and had only the skyline of trees heading toward him. He braced himself, and smashed into their tough leaves like the model rockets he used to launch as a child. He tumbled down, hitting branch after branch, thorns attaching to his skin, tearing it. He hit yet another branch, a massive extension of the earth, and his consciousness was yanked away from him, and pure darkness overcame him. 

Chapter 19

         The sun rose over the cactuses of the desert of Arizona, preparing to unleash yet another day of relentless, pounding heat. Salamanders scurried across the ground, birds peeked out of their hidey holes, ever vigilant for danger. The middle of a desert in Arizona would not be an ideal place for a home, but yet there it was. A man made structure sticking out like a sore thumb amongst mother natures canvas. The house stood tall, and was a pale yellow, very simple in design.
         
         This was the home of Amanda Rodriguez, a reporter for TIME Magazine and 60 minutes, who had a knack for uncovering cover ups and scandals. But she wasn’t interested in shallow celebrities cheating on each other or getting knocked up, she had a passion for the secrets of the U.S. government. She had always been fascinated by what goes on behind the scenes, the things the public never found out. Over her years as a reporter, she had uncovered countless assassinations, cover-ups, and proven many conspiracy theory’s correct.

         She stood at 5’11, and was what many people would call stunning. She had long dark hair, and a beautiful tan that came from her Mexican heritage. She never had interest in being in pageants or being a model, she was a tom boy at heart. More comfortable in harsh environments like jungles or deserts rather than lavish parties.

         She was born in southern Los Angeles, her mother passing away at a young age. Her father was a businessman, and traveled all over the world, always bringing his daughter with her. She had a camera on her 24/7, and was constantly snapping photos. This led to her passion of travel and photography, making her a great reporter. She had to take a mandatory vacation, having not missed work in countless years, so she was planning on flying into Peru, but the war their had ceased all travel. So she decided to fly herself. She planned on rafting down the Amazon, or doing some hiking. Maybe even finding a story or two on the war, nobody had to know. So she packed up her plane with all the supplies she needed, which were very little, when she got a call.

“ Hello? “

“ Hello Amanda its John from work, I was just checking in to make sure your vacation was going well.”

“ John you don’t have to check up on me, im actually taking a vacation, im going to the Rockies for some skiing. “

“ Good, im happy you dropped that ridiculous notion of going to Peru, the place is a war zone. There’s no way you could go there. “

Amanda fired up the plane, its engines revving up like a Ferrari. She plotted a course for Peru, and started down her runway.

“ I wouldn’t dream of it. “

Chapter 20

         Duke and Mick had been trudging through the woods for hours, just on the edge of the river. The water rushed down, eminent death to any who fell in.

“ You wouldn’t want to fall in their, would you Duke? “ asked Mick.

“ Ah shit, I can’t even swim. “ he replied.

“ Ahaha, Duke your such a girl. “

“ Hey Sergeant, where the hell are we goin anyway? “

“ Were going to follow this river, until we hit a friendly base. “

“ So, walking randomly through a jungle, nice plan. “

“ Shut the hell up. “

“ It sucks your radio got broken, or else we could ha- “

“ Shhh, shut up Duke, look over there. “
They ducked down, and peered out, looking up on top of a hill.

         An Aztec patrol was walking along uneasily, guns at the ready. They were the definition of ragtag, looking like more like a African War gang then a militia. They wore raged clothes and matching bandanas, there only option for a uniform. There guns had lots of wear and tear, and Duke was surprised they were in shooting conditions. It was shocking they were even holding there ground in the war, but they were fierce fighters, determined to protect there homeland, and they knew the jungles and cities far better than the American soldiers.

“ Hmm…something is wrong. “ commented Mick in a whisper, careful not to alert the Aztecs.

“ What are you talking about? “

“ This patrol is smaller then it should be. There should be 10, there are only 6. “

“ Maybe they took some losses in a skirmish, and are heading back to the- “

         That’s when Duke and Mick felt the barrel of a rifle press up against their backs.

“ Don’t move Americans, or you die. “

Duke sighed, “ That was a good one, Aztec. You guys have always been good at hide and go seek. How about you go hide, and we will come find you? “

Then he caught the butt of a rifle, right to the jaw. He tumbled to the ground,

“ Ouch….don’t worry man, Im not going to peek. “

“ Shut up, b. Hands in  air, give me your weapons. “ The whole squadron had their guns on the two of them now.

“ Any sudden moves, you die. Hands behind heads. NOW. “

         Duke and Mick, were pushed down to their knees and cuffed. The patrol gathered up, and headed south down the river.

The patrol commander muttered something in Spanish, and the patrol split up. Three of the troops took Duke and Mick and started heading south, back to the Aztec outpost. The others stayed north, clearly finishing up their patrol.

“ Aw crap, I’ve never liked being prisoner of war, too much torture for my tastes. “

Then Duke took his second rifle butt to the head. Mick just rolled his eyes.
         They had steadily marched on for about a mile, when they heard a rustling in the bushes.

More muttering in Spanish from the Aztecs. One of the troops went and checked it out. A few minutes later he returned and gave the all clear. They went on in silence for another mile, and the Aztecs couldn’t help but make a few taunts.

“ So Americans, how does it feel to be invading countries who are not at fault and murdering innocents? “

“ How does it feel to have pissed off the greatest country in the world and then get your asses handed to you?” quipped Duke.

He got his third rifle butt to the head.

“ You dirty murderers should be executed right now, but you not worth the bullet it take to kill you!”

They erupted in laughter, and then suddenly,

BANG! BANG ! BANG! 

         Three gunshots rang through the air, Duke turned. The three Aztecs were on the jungle floor, dead as doornails. Bullet holes in each of their foreheads.

“ What the f*** was that? “

A person emerged from the bushes, pistol in hand.

“ Who the hell are you? “ asked Mick.

“ My name is Amanda Rodriguez, and I just saved your lives, a simple thank you would be nice. “ A grin flashed across her face.

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