Into the Jungle

by David M. Salkin

  “Damn,” he mumbled and called over to Mackey who took a knee next to him. “I think they’ve got him, Mack. Smitty’s signal is always in the middle of the shit. I think they’ve taken him prisoner.”

  Mackey rubbed his chin and grimaced. “Then we better keep pushing, Chris. If you’re right, we need to get to him fast. I can’t imagine what they’ll do to him if we can’t get to him in time.”

  Cascaes nodded and closed his computer, then signaled Ripper to take point. They fanned out a little and moved cautiously after the retreating Guaranis, stopping only once so Cascaes could photograph Vega’s three men and send the pictures back to Langley. It was stressful following the Guaranis for hours on end. Every shadow, every bird call or monkey screech made the men pause and look around, weapons at the ready—but they pressed on. One of their own was somewhere ahead of them, along with Vega and his village, and maybe if they were really lucky, a few terrorists as a bonus. They stayed focused and moved ahead.

  ****************************

  Vega was walking to his cabin, AK-47 in hand, when Kuka and some of his warriors began streaming back into the village at a slow run. Vega walked in their direction, pleased at first, especially when he saw them carrying a prisoner suspended from a pole between four Guaranis like a bagged game animal. He looked for his own men and didn’t see them. He called to Kuka, who did not look pleased.

  “Kuka! What happened? Where is everyone?” screamed Vega as he approached them.

  The chief barked back at Vega. “Your men are dead! My warriors are dead! There were too many of them.”

  Vega had to process the information for a moment. “Wait a minute, Kuka, what are you saying? Did you lead the soldiers back to the village? What did you do? How many of them are there?”

  Kuka ignored him and continued to the center of the village where he began screaming at his people. The drums began and the Guarani people descended on their chief from everywhere. He began ranting and screaming at his people, as Vega tried to listen and understand what he was saying. The Guaranis took off in a dozen different directions to gather their belongings. They were leaving.

  “Kuka! What are you doing?” demanded Vega.

  Raman Qasim, Ali Aziz and Hakim Bin-Salaam appeared, walking towards the center of the village to see what was happening.

  “Señor Vega, what is going on?” asked Raman.

  Vega ignored the question and kept screaming at Kuka. “What are you doing? You can’t leave! Did you lead these soldiers right to me? Kuka?” He approached the chief and was about to grab him by the arm when Kuka turned and began screaming at Vega, waving his spear in Vega’s direction. He screamed that it was Vega’s fault his warriors were dead, and he was taking his people and leaving.

  “Señor Vega!” screamed Raman again, this time a little frantic.

  Vega screamed at Raman, “Not now!” and turned back to Kuka. “How many of them are there?”

  Kuka ignored him and walked away, sending Vega over the edge. Vega ran to the prisoner who was barely conscious, hanging from his bound wrists and ankles under a pole carried on the shoulders of four of Kuka’s men. Vega slapped the man’s face repeatedly and screamed at him first in Spanish, then in English. “You American? How many of you are there? How many?”

  Smitty looked at the man through swollen eyes and managed a smile. His mouth was dry and caked with his blood. He had taken several blows to the head when he was originally attacked in the jungle right after Santos was speared. He spoke through swollen lips. “Enough to kick your ass, mutherfucker,” he said hoarsely. He tried to spit, but his mouth was too dry and his lips were too swollen. One of Kuka’s men, who didn’t understand the insult, but didn’t like Smitty’s apparent boldness, pushed a knife into Smitty’s tricep and withdrew it slowly. He pushed his finger into the bleeding hole up to his second knuckle, causing Smitty to scream, then withdrew it and sucked the blood off of his finger, all the while smiling at the prisoner. It was apparently a hint of what was to come later. Smitty howled and hung helplessly. Vega was disgusted, but ignored it and asked him again.

  “How many of you are there? Tell me and I’ll kill you quickly. Tell me!” he screamed. “Or I’ll watch these savages peel your skin off and eat you alive!”

  Smitty fought back the tears, but remained silent. Vega smashed the prisoner with the butt of his machine gun and kicked the dirt. He was losing it. His remaining men had assembled now with their weapons, and awaited instructions. The three Arabs stood silently, understanding that things were not going very well.

  Raman spoke in Arabic to Aziz. Bin-Salaam joined in and the three of them were apparently arguing when Vega told them to shut up. That didn’t go over well with Raman Qasim. He barked at Vega, “Señor Vega, we are leaving. You don’t have control over this situation. Get us a few guides to lead us back to the river. We want to leave immediately.”

  Vega laughed like a lunatic. “Oh you think so? You are just going to leave? Well good luck finding the river! Your guides are leaving! Do you get it? Kuka and his people are leaving! They have led these fucking commandos right to us, and now they are leaving! You want to leave, too? Fine—only good luck finding your way to the river without any guides. These cowards are deserting!” Vega was borderline hysterical.

  The three men began screaming at each other in Arabic, each blaming the other for their present situation. Kuka reappeared outside his oga, followed by his wives and children, each carrying bundles of family belongings. The drumming began again, as Kuka assembled his people for their journey deeper into the jungle.

  Chapter 35

  To the Village

  Cascaes and Mackey had been right behind Ripper, who was on point, for over an hour. They were moving at almost a jog, following the signal from Smitty’s transponder. When they heard the faint sound of drums, they increased their pace and honed in on the sound. It had to be the village. As the drums grew louder, the signal grew stronger and closer, and the team fanned out. Cascaes fell back and grabbed Julia by the arm, whispering into her ear, “The shit is going to hit the fan in a little bit. You stay close to me and keep low. If I need to go into the village, you stay hidden and keep your eyes open. I assume you know how to use this?” He asked, pointing to the MP-5 she carried.

  “I shoot better than you, so just worry about yourself,” she said. She didn’t want him distracted worrying about her, although she was terrified for the first time in many years. While she had been on countless hairy missions herself, it wasn’t the same as actual combat, and what she had seen today would stay with her for a long time.

  “Theresa—stay close to Julia,” said Cascaes.

  “Listen you sexist pig,” said Theresa, half serious, “I put marines back together for two years while ragheads tried to blow my head off, so you just worry about your own ass and stop fretting over us women-folk. This is nothing compared to Fallujah.”

  He grunted and trotted ahead after Mackey, who had stopped. Mackey used hand signals for everyone to stop and get low. Ripper called in quietly over his mic.

  “I have the village, Skipper, dead ahead. Lots of activity from what I can see. There are a shitload of them, too. Not just men, either, I see women and little kids running around.”

  “Any sign of Smitty?” asked Cascaes, who inched forward towards Ripper’s position. He had his laptop open as he crawled. “He should be ahead of you and to your right. He isn’t moving right now.”

  “I can’t see, Skipper. But there are some big-ass houses or something down there. And it looks like the villagers are getting ready to split. They’re all carrying stuff. You better take a look.”

  Cascaes continued to move forward, followed by Mackey and the rest of the team. When he reached Ripper, he crawled over him and took out his binoculars. He scanned the village like Ripper.

  “I think you’re right, Vinny. They look like they’re leaving. Sh
it. There’s tons of non-combatants mixed in with them now. Hey! Jackpot!”

  Mackey was behind him. “What have you got?” he asked.

  “Vega. Sonofabitch. That’s him. He’s yelling at, holy shit. That’s the whole package—Raman Qasim, Aziz, and Bin-Salaam! They’re all down there!”

  “Jackpot is right,” said Mackey quietly. “But attacking a couple of hundred villagers wasn’t part of the plan. Now what?”

  Cascaes bit his lip. “We wait and watch. Shit. No sign of Smitty yet, but they must have him. The signal is coming from the village.” He looked at his watch. It was almost eighteen-hundred hours. “Might be another couple of hours of daylight. You think the Guaranis will take off this late in the day? Won’t give them much time to set up a new village.”

  “They might not need much time,” answered Mackey, as he watched the Guarani women start to take apart the ogas, plank by plank. “Looks like pre-fab construction.”

  A scream filled the jungle so gut-wrenching that all activity stopped for a moment.

  “Oh, God,” said Mackey. “That’s Smitty.”

  “Fuck,” said Cascaes with a grunt. “Change of plans. We need to get to him now. I’ll take half of the team and circle around to the right. Hodges, you find a spot that gives you some targets and cover us when we move in. Mackey, move forward and start shooting when I signal you. Maybe you can distract them enough that we can get in and grab Smitty. Hodges, if you can find the four primary targets when the shooting starts, you are cleared to fire, understand?”

  “Roger that, Skipper, it’ll be my pleasure.” Hodges moved silently ahead and to the left looking for a place that would give him a better view. He looked up at the giant twisted tree overhead and smiled, adjusting the rifle on his back as he began quietly climbing.

  Cascaes signaled for Moose, Ripper, McCoy, Cohen and Koches to follow him. Everyone else stayed with Mackey and started inching forward towards the village, as Hodges settled into a large branch twenty feet off the ground and began adjusting his scope. From the village, Smitty’s uncontrolled screaming filled the jungle.

  Hodges called in to Cascaes that he could see Smitty. Vega and a few Guaranis were poking and cutting him, and he asked for permission to take them out. Cascaes told him to wait—Smitty would have to tough it out a few more minutes until Cascaes and his men were closer. If he fired too soon, they were all screwed. Hodges kept his sight on the back of Vega’s head, dying inside as he watched the animal torturing his friend. Cascaes and his team moved as quickly as they could, circling around to the right, as Mackey’s team fanned out at the edge of the village clearing and took up firing positions. As soon as they got the command, they would begin assaulting and causing as much damage as possible, allowing Cascaes and his team to come from the rear. Jones had a grenade launcher at the ready, but was tentative as he watched the children mixed in with the adults.

  Mackey saw his face and called over to him quietly. “That’s Smitty out there screaming, Earl. If you can’t fire that weapon when I tell you, then give it to someone who can.”

  “I’m cool,” replied Jones quietly, as he inched forward through the thick underbrush.

  The next few minutes seemed to take forever as Cascaes and his team moved into position. Smitty was screaming when Cascaes radioed back to Mackey.

  “Okay Mac, we’re in position, about thirty yards from Smitty. Come heavy and grab their attention, and we’ll try and grab him. I can see Vega, but don’t have a clear shot. Hodges, can you see the other three targets?”

  “Affirmative, skipper,” said Hodges from up in the giant tree. “I don’t have great shots on them either because of all the damn villagers, but I’ll do what I can.”

  “Okay, Mac, on three you turn this place upside down, and Hodges you start taking out your targets. One…two…three!”

  Mackey and his men opened fire simultaneously and moved towards the village in an all-out assault. Hodges fired his first shot which almost decapitated Ali Aziz. His white beard was now full of blood and brain matter as he fell like a stone to the ground. As chaos ensued in the following moments, with villagers screaming and running in all directions, Cascaes and his team sprinted from the tree line into the village, firing short deliberate bursts at the men around Smitty, who dropped to the ground. Vega turned and ran, after throwing a Guarani in the direction of the gunfire to shield himself. He disappeared into the crowd of screaming villagers as they all took off in every direction.

  Cascaes, Moose, Ripper, McCoy, Cohen, and Koches advanced, firing and reloading magazines as fast as they could. Smitty was on the ground only semi-conscious, still tied to the long pole, bleeding from dozens of wounds. Several Guaranis were dead on the ground around him. Moose was the first to get to him, and used his Ka-Bar knife to quickly cut him loose. He threw Smitty over his shoulder and ran back into the forest with the rest of the team slowly backing up while firing to cover his escape.

  The Guaranis were not fighting back; they were running for their lives. Women picked up small children and babies and ran full speed, screaming in panic. Kuka had disappeared into the jungle, followed by dozens of his people. They had been caught completely off guard, not realizing that the soldiers could possibly track them so quickly. Vega had disappeared along with him, and Hodges had only been able to hit Aziz. Hakim Bin-Salaam and Raman Qasim had both hit the dirt and scrambled through the villagers to avoid giving Hodges a clear shot, and after the truck incident back in Saudi Arabia, Hodges couldn’t pull the trigger with women and children running all over the place.

  Mackey and his men continued firing, and Jones managed to fire half a dozen grenades at small groups of warriors that attempted to get organized. It was five minutes of loud gunfire and explosions, and then total silence. Cascaes and his men rejoined Mackey, with Smitty still out of it on Moose’s back. Theresa came running and checked his pulse. Being unsure whether or not they had poisoned him, she hit him with a shot of epinephrine, which woke him up. He was bleeding from a dozen minor wounds to his arms and legs, but the Guaranis had been interrupted before the serious hacking had started. Theresa gave him half a syringe of morphine, enough to kill some of the pain, but not put him out totally—they needed him on his feet. She dressed his wounds quickly, impressing the men with her speed and quality of work. Smitty clenched his teeth and waited for the morphine to kick in. It was obvious she was very experienced.

  Mackey and Cascaes looked at each other. Mackey spoke first. “Well, this is a clusterfuck. Vega is in the wind and Hodges only got Aziz. Now what?”

  Cascaes looked at Smitty and gently slapped his face. “Hey, Smitty! How you feeling, baby? You ready to run through the jungle?”

  Theresa looked at him, shaking her head.

  “I’m okay, skipper. Thanks for coming to get me, I thought they were gonna’ make soup out of me, man.” His speech was slurred slightly, but he was coherent. Cascaes and Moose helped him up. He could stand, but just barely. Moose looked at him and then at Cascaes. “He’ll be okay. Little fucker doesn’t weight too much. We’ll keep up. Won’t we, Pin-cushion Boy”

  Smitty tried his best to act tough through his pounding headache. “Roger that, Moose-Man.”

  Cascaes grunted. “Good man. Okay, then. Everyone reload, hydrate, and get ready to move out.”

  Moose and Ripper held Smitty and made him drink some water, then poured some on his head and wiped off his face. He looked like Hell, but he was a tough little dude and tried his best to shake off the morphine and the pain. He had bandages all over his arms and legs and he was wrapped around his head, making him look like a car accident victim out of a bad movie.

  Moose leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Listen Smitty, we need to bungle through the jungle—you just hang on to ol’ Moose and let me do the work, ya’ hear? I’ll carry you if you feel funky, you just tell me. But we need to hustle, so don’t be proud, okay?”


  Smitty leaned over and vomited up the water he had just drank, then looked up at Moose and tried a weak smile. “I ain’t feelin’ too proud, brother. I’ll be hanging on tight.”

  Moose gave him his canteen and told him to swish and spit, then take a few baby sips. Cascaes and Mackey had conferred and rejoined the group which assembled around them in a small huddle, locked and loaded.

  Cascaes spoke up, “Okay, here it is—we have Vega, Bin-Salaam and Raman Qasim on the run in the jungle. We have no idea where they are headed because they probably have no idea where they are headed. There are a couple of hundred Guaranis running around out there with them, armed with poison darts, spears and maybe a few AK-47s. We are going to stay together and follow the general direction of their retreat out the back of the village and try and pick up their trail. It will start getting dark in a few hours. We’re hoping the Guaranis pick a spot and settle down for the night. With our night vision, maybe we can get lucky and pick up our three targets running through the jungle. Hopefully, they’ll be the only ones moving after dark. We will move forward in a forty yard spread. Make sure you can maintain a constant visual on the people next to you. Ripper, you are far right flank and Cohen, you are far left. Jones, you still have thumper—how many grenades do you have left?”

  “Six,” he replied.

  “Anybody else have any?” asked Cascaes.

  Moose and McCoy each flipped him three more, which he shoved into his oversized cargo pants pockets.

  “Recheck comm. Equipment and night viz right now, then fan out and get ready to boogie.”

  Each person checked their throat mics and earpieces, then turned the night vision on and off to make sure it was operational. All was well. They spread out, with Cascaes and Mackey next to each other in the center, and Theresa and Julia a few paces behind them. The rest of the team was spread out along a forty yard front and began moving quickly and quietly through the jungle.