Meddlesome Marxist Macheteros of Guevara's Groupthink

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## The Introduction of a New Series Following the Adventures of the Greatest New Explorers of the Age!

The heat of the jungle wasn't anything new to me by this point. As I hacked through the undergrowth, I only paused to wipe an errant strand of hair away from my eyes. I'd gotten used to the insects by this point, realized that if I could ignore them I wouldn't be stopping so often to bat them away. Of course, Laura had to put her two cents in.

"Baby, if we ever get stuck in this jungle again I'm gonna tie you up with these vines and leave," she said, adjusting her pack. "Maybe it'll teach you to not plan things like this on our anniversary."

I couldn't help but laugh at Laura as we made our way into the trees, the distant sounds of the odd car fading into nothing under the cover of the jungle. The chorus of bird songs mixed with the calming symphony of insects as we left the safety of the road. "What are you talking about? Don't you hear the great band I booked us?"

Laura let out a huff as we pressed on. I wouldn't have put her up to the trip if she wasn't going to enjoy it after all. No, we both needed to get out of Rio for a change of pace. After what happened with Eduardo Grande's gang especially. Better to take some time to walk through Nature's own bio-lab than wait at home for the criminals to come knocking.

"So this is where the birdmen live, right?" Laura asked, taking her canteen out for a drink.

"No, that's further to the North," I answered, before the tree root sent me sprawling onto the ground. As Laura laughed behind me, I pulled myself up and dusted myself off. "Something funny Laura?"

"Amy, if that's not funny I don't know what is!"

Pushing my ponytail back into place, I adjusted my kit and grabbed Laura's arm, pulling us close together. "Last time I checked, I was the one pulling you out of the fire when you decided to intercept those teletanks at the border."

Laura gave me a sly grin. "Being saved from those hunks of junk doesn't even count as exercise, you know that better than anyone."

I leaned in closer, tilting her chin up and locking her gorgeous sky blue eyes on mine. "And what would count as exercise?"

Before she could answer me, we both heard it; the staccato pop of gunfire in the forest. All I can say is that it never does fail.

We broke from where we were and ran into the trees, fearing that there had been a highway holdup gone wrong. The bark of the trees mixed with the green leaves like a hippy's tie-dye as we ran, the rare flash of a forest animals or a flower splashing in a brilliant spark of color for a split second. Laura led the way of course, her life in Alaska had prepared her for everything we'd come across. Not that I was a slouch in keeping up with her. I was the one who found her when we were both in Los Angeles after all.

The gunfire kept repeating in the bush, and as we closed on the source we could hear faint crying and begging. I could see it in Laura's eyes,the same fire in her eyes as when we went back to her home to find the Empire practically razing everything with their mecha. For claiming they're a great empire, it's funny to see how they treat the people they could uplift.

It was a good five minutes before we finally closed on the source of the gunfire. The only obstacle was the massive wall of tightly set trees, a natural fence against intrusion. Fun to see how the locals try to make their own solutions without the same kind of education the rest of the world has.

Laura put her fingers to her lips, and we gently slipped off our packs before getting any closer. Of course, I didn't dare go any further without my gauntlet. Laura had her own hands to work with, but I never turn down extra insurance. But by now the gunfire had stopped. That was when the voice broke out behind the trees.

"You have thrown in your lot with the enemies of the people," a female voice shouted, the sounds of footsteps tracking through the camp echoing as she broke every twig and branch she could find. "You believe that, somehow, these madmen will save you. You can't realize that their gold plated lies are merely trying to trap you all in a fools paradise."

It was all too easy to recognize the propaganda. MIR, the cowards. Attacking defenseless villages while they hid away from the Mobile Guard. That was when Laura pointed to the treetops, and gave me as big a grin as when I asked her to move in with me.

Let me tell you, shimmying up a tree isn't as easy as we can make it look. Trying to scale it when there's God only knows how many Guevera-worshipping lunatics below might as well be as easy as trying to jump through an Astrogate without knowing the coordinates. But scaling the trees was the easy part. Holding myself back when I had climbed to the top was hard.

It was a small, almost primitive village. Clearly we had only come to these people recently, the only sign that they had welcomed Utopia was the presence of a few smashed radios and a small flag. I was going to have to get a few words in next summit about not being informed. Of course, that would have to wait as I watched a woman stalking around a huddled mass of villagers with her anti-tank rifle facing towards the children.

"You were warned about being near them, about the consequences it would bring." Adjusting her cap, the woman glared down on the villagers like they were animals for not taking up the banner of godless communism. "Do your children mean that little to you?"

At that, one of the machete wielding men grabbed a child from the villagers, other MIR rebels holding back the mother as the child cried out in his native tongue. "This is the punishment for disobeying the first warning. Watch, or you'll find out what happens when you ignore a second."

I could see Laura tense up, but I waved her off. The world had gone crazy after all, maybe the communists were just trying to psych out the villagers, show them the power they could use. I had to be sure. I was when the machetero started to draw the flat end of the weapon along the boy's bare chest, the boy sobbing in terror.

"Quite the garden party you've got here," I shouted, falling out of the tree into a beautiful roll, Laura landing right beside me. "Hope you don't mind a few party crashers."

The woman with the rifle glared at us as we stood, her face bared like she was a rabid dog. "Amy Smith and Laura North. You really think you can defeat the revolution?"

"We don't need to defeat the revolution," Laura said cracking her knuckles. "We just need to kick your sorry ass!"

**Continued, page 14**

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### Page 14

She scoffed at us of course, every communist likes to think they can take the Combine's best in a brawl. But she didn't tell us why she would defeat us, she only barked orders. "Kill'em!"

If you've never faced down a machetero, here's what you'll be facing. First, it's a man waving around a knife as big as your thigh. He's got a wild look on his face, like you're his next meal for his blade. He's screaming at the top of his lungs loud enough to wake the dead, and smells worse than an Outrider that sleeps too close to his horse. And that's just one. Laura and I were facing down just under a dozen.

The first one was easy, I just caught his blade on my gauntlet. I couldn't help but look him in the eye. "Can't you feel the electricity between us?" I asked, as his body went into spasms. Taking a quick look to my right, I saw Laura throwing one of the macheteros into another, the two collapsing in a heap as she faced down a third. Of course, this was when I had to look back at my two. They tried to get me on either side, split my attention so one of them could strike the killing blow. With the machete still in my grip, I quickly grabbed the handle and grinned. "You boys want to make some sparks fly then?"

The two decided that wordplay could wait, both coming at me like roaring animals. Of course, when they telegraph like Western Union it's not hard to parry their attacks. The machete isn't meant for swordplay, but it sure is big enough to bat your opponent's swing out of line. I didn't want to use any shocks on those two, the gauntlet only has a few minutes of charge after all. Besides, it was more fun to parry and thrust against them. It was a three way dance of death, but I could see from my peripheral that Laura didn't want to play around. She was too busy grabbing her opponents and headbutting them like a native of Glasgow.

Of course, like all good fights it was over too soon. Laura had decided to throw her last opponent into my own, sending both down in a heap. "Laura, didn't we have a talk already about doing things like that when I'm already going to beat them?"

Laura dusted off her hands and jerked a thumb towards the exit of the trees. "Yeah, well tell that to the lunatic you just let escape."

"Ah damn, forgot about her." Letting out a sigh, I saw that the villagers were starting to get over what had happened. Taking off my gauntlet, I nodded to Laura to tie the rebels up while I talked to the village leaders.

"Oh thank you, thank you so much!" one of the elders said, walking up to me with a relived smile. "They came to our village last week, saying we were traitors. We told them we wanted to stay out of trouble, but they just came back and smashed everything we had been given."

"Yes, MIR doesn't like people to use anything but Soviet manufactured goods," I said dismissively, throwing a look to the unconscious guerrillas. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, I think we're all fine." Nodding, the elder looked sadly towards the smashed radios. "But I will miss the music that came from the crystal radios each night."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, there's plenty more to go around."

"Well, that should take care of them," Laura said. Looking over, I saw she'd tied them all together by their necks and hands. Facing towards one another. "So, what now?"

I gave Laura a grin and stretched my arms above my head. "Well, I think we should untie one of them and ask about what they know. I think MIR owes the village a few radios, don't you?"

The elders suddenly huddled in on themselves again, and I couldn't keep back my annoyed sigh. The Technate still had a lot of work to do of course, but always cowering in fear against communists like they were doing would never get them anywhere. "Gentle baby, they don't know who you are."

"I do!" a young voice chimed in. "You're Amy Smith, the famous lady inventor of Southern California! And you're Laura North, the Nome Neutralizer. I listened to all your radio dramas." The boy wasn't much younger than we were, wearing what looked like a surplus Civil Defense garrison uniform. "I can't believe you just saved my village!"

"We didn't do much of anything, they'll be back soon with more guerrillas," Laura said, looking out towards the jungle. "We need to follow them."

"I can help you track them." The boy's offer was quickly drowned out by the elders berating him in their native language, as he quickly shrunk below their verbal assault. "But I can."

"No, it's too dangerous," the first elder said, "We nearly lost one of our children, we won't send another into the trees to be killed!"

"But I'm the best tracker for our village," the boy tried to argue. "They need someone who knows how to survive out there."

"It's out of the question," the elder said with finality. "You can't go."

"If I can just interject for a second," I said, drawing the elder's intense glare onto me. "We will need a local guide who knows the area. I promise we'll bring him back safely, and in exchange, well I can see you all get new radios. And more."

The elder's anger seemed to freeze as he spoke, suddenly turning over the pros and cons of the offer in his balding head. It was probably the expectant looks the rest of the village were giving him that forced his hand. "Fine, you can take Bol with you," he groaned. "As annoying as he can be, he does know his way through the jungle. But bring him back alive."

I nodded to the elder. "You have my word, he'll come back alive."

After gathering our things and taking what supplies they could spare, we left the village. The elders had already sent a runner to the road, the MIR left bound would probably be talking soon once they were in CBURA's hands. "So, has MIR been raiding often?"

"On and off, but lately they've gotten a lot more intense," Bol said, using one of the MIR machetes to gently clear the path ahead without making us obvious. Even MIR had to have *some* trackers capable of following an obvious path. "They've gone after a lot of local villages, saying we should support them or else."

"What happened to the villages that refused?" Laura asked, following closely.

"Let's just say there were more than a few smoke clouds in the past few days," Bol said morbidly. "That was when my brother went out to search for survivors. But he...he didn't come back that night. Or any other night."

I could practically hear Laura tensing up behind me. The whole situation was just too familiar to her, but it would have to wait until we found the MIR guerrillas before I could let it be unleashed. If it wasn't for the jaguars that decided to drop on us at that point, I don't think I could have.

"Oh no, they must smell our food." Bol looked shaky in the face of the animals, barely holding his machete out like it was a weapon. "We should toss it all away, we can try to run while they're distracted."

"No way, we worked hard to get this food." Laura dropped her pack again and grabbed Bol's machete, grinning madly at the jaguars. "You want it? You have to kill me first!"

"That's my girl," I said, taking my own machete up. It was hard to count how many jaguars there were, it could've been anywhere from five to fifty with how shadowed the ground was. Still, a new coat wouldn't be so bad to have when I earned it.

One of the beasts jumped at Laura's back, trying to claw her spine out of her muscles. It must've been a sight for the others when she shoved the machete so far up the creature's gullet that she eviscerated the thing faster than it could bite down on her. Another tried to take her throat out, but when you jam a machete charged with a few thousand volts inside it, you get a quick meal worth eating as soon as you skin the beast.

One of the jaguars had tackled Bol, the boy doing his best to fight the creature off. "Need a light?" I said, slashing at the predator and giving it a nice shock, of course this left poor Bol trapped under the creature's dead weight. That was when one of the beasts tore off the back of my shirt.

"Amy!" Laura ripped her blade out of the jaguar and jumped on the cat, driving her blade home over and over to make sure it was dead. This was about the point where the jaguars probably realized that their meal wouldn't be worth the effort. Slowly, still snarling, they backed away from the small clearing, the only sign they were still there the eyes reflecting through the trees.

"Well, I guess this is where we should make camp," I gasped, Laura already breaking out the med-kit. "Bol, you still alive?"

Bol let out a gasp. "I think so. How much weight can the human body survive under?"

I couldn't help by chuckle. "Ask Giles Corey."

As the sun set, the jungle almost went from half-lit to pitch black in seconds. Bol had already set up a small fire pit and carried the corpses far from the camp. Better to leave an obvious pile of food away from us than draw the local animals right to where we were sleeping. I tried to carry back some firewood, but Laura didn't hear it, glaring at me until I finally "decided" to make a lean-to instead. By the time Bol was finished with the bodies, I was almost done and Laura was finished gathering the branches.

"I still can't believe I'm here with Amy Smith and Laura North," Bol said, sitting cross-legged in front of the pit. "I listen to your adventures all the time I can over the radios, I never imagined I'd be able to meet you. Though..." Bol paused, and Laura shot me a grin. We both know how this conversation went. "You both look different than how I imagined."

"You expected to American white girls with blonde hair and blue eyes wearing gingham perhaps?" I said, laughing. "It's alright to be surprised Bol. That's just how the radio play makes it seem." Leaning gingerly onto my bedroll, I let out a sigh. "My family emigrated from the Empire of the Rising Sun, my father wanted to make his inventions without being a slave to a zaibatsu. We moved to Los Angeles, my father set up his garage and shop, and there we were happy."

"That explains it," Bol whispered. "What about you Ms. North? Did you come from California too?"

"Knock it off with that 'miss' stuff, you make us sound old," Laura grumbled, starting the base of the fire. "My family are Inuit, we lived near Nome most of my life. Eventually I decided to travel to the mainland US, I wanted to make it as a fighter." She turned to smile at me. "That's where I met Amy."

"You met her while you were fighting?" Bol asked, enraptured. His eyes were as wide as his mouth was open, staring at us like a little boy during a bedtime story.

"More like I met her at a crosswalk," Laura said. "I still have a scar where you hit me."

"You should've been paying attention to the lights," I grunted, making myself as comfortable as I could. "So tell me Bol, do you always follow strange women out of your village to take on communist insurgents?"

"No, not really," Bol said, pulling out some tins to eat with. Taking some utensils out of a pocket inside his worn surplus custodian jacket, Bol put the tins on some of the ashes to warm the contents. "Most of the time I just go out and check the traps outside the village. My brother Mak, he was the one who the elders usually sent out on important jobs."

"Well your elders clearly liked you both enough to give you the surplus gear that you traded for," Laura said. "I've heard of villages trading crate loads of furs for those."

"Yeah, but this was all Mak's work," Bol said, pulling at his clothes. "I'm nothing compared to you two."

Laura tensed again, setting up her own bedroll next to mine. Quickly, I knew we had to change the topic. "So, Bol, is it true that the tarantula is a delicacy around these parts?"

"Oh, it all depends on how you cook it."

I stared at the fire when it was my turn to keep watch, feeding it the odd stick every now and again. You never think about heat in LA, but when the jungle decides to get cold, it doesn't mess around.

"You didn't need to do that earlier," Laura said, talking through Bol's chainsawing. "I can handle what happened, I'm not a child."

"It hurt us both, you know that." Putting a final stick on the small fire, I turned to see her face dancing in the firelight. Even her frowning at me looked incredible. "Bol just didn't know, you were about to pounce on him."

Laura kept silent for a few seconds, but went on in another way faster than I'd expected. "You know that club we went to last week? I think they'd pay good money to have us become regulars."

"The last thing you need is a free drink promise for life." Grunting, I slowly lay down on my roll, puling a thin blanket over to keep me warm. "I do have an idea though, about what MIR's planing. I mean, why else raid all those villages?"

"I know," Laura said, taking my hand. "Get some sleep, I'll let Bol take the last watch."

Smiling at her, I let my eyes shut for a night of being serenaded by the rain forest's choir.

"They're definitely more traces of them moving this way," Bol said, gently holding up a broken stem of a flower. "If I had to guess, we're practically on top of their base."

We'd eaten a fast, cold breakfast that morning, which was probably why I was half awake while Bol and Laura were practically bouncing around the forest. "So where are the defenses?"

"You wouldn't needed defenses this deep in the forest," Bol said, gently moving forward. "Patrols through the jungle can give enough warning before any enemy gets close enough to be a problem, which means we need to move faster."

"I'm still not tracking something," Laura said, setting her pack down and covering it with brush. "Why are they raiding all these villages? Manpower? Intimidation?"

"I'm not sure about that anymore," I said, straining to hear over the forest. The farther we moved ahead, the more I could see the signs of MIR's occupation without Bol's help. Trees felled for firewood or lumber, rough paths worn into the dirt where they moved frequently. About fifty seven yards where Laura left the pack, I heard the first voices. I couldn't make out any words distinctly, but I could tell it was definitely something important. "Okay, both of you, listen carefully. Laura, take Bol and hold him tight. Wait a half hour, sabotage everything on the base of the camp. When the half hour is up, grab what weapons you can off them and start raising hell. If you find any prisoners, have them join in."

"What are you gonna do?" Bol asked, taking the machete Laura shoved into his hands.

"Get herself captured," Laura said with a grin. "One for good luck?"

Smiling, I grabbed the back of Laura's head and pulled her close, savoring the kiss as we both knew full well it could be our last together. "Leave some for me." Standing, I gave Bol a wink as he stared in stunned silence at what just happened, raised my hands above my head and walked towards the MIR clearing.

The base was larger than I expected, tents and hovels scattered about in a roughly forty yard perimeter. Massive men carrying machine guns stood atop small stone guard towers. A small trench line ran around the compound, a group of machete-wielding madmen in what was probably the dining area at the center of the compound. There were two vans under a tarp acting as a makeshift motor pool to the right of the dining hall, and a massive supply dump farther away. The only real structure I could see among the tents was a building with radio aerials and a chimney sticking out the top. Of course, that was when I was spotted.

"Halt, don't move, keep your hands up!" they shouted, probably expecting me to be terrified. Bells started to ring out, orders flying everywhere in Spanish as I was quickly surrounded. Guns, blades, and explosives. What every girl wants to be greeted with.

"My name is Amy Smith," I called out loud and proud. "I wish to speak with whoever is in charge-" Of course, that was when I was knocked to the ground and tied up. Struggling to keep my eyes out of the dirt, I looked up to see the guards parting to let through the same woman from Bol's village. "Quite the welcome you have," I grunted as they hauled me up, hands bound in front of me. "Where's the fruit basket?"

"Bring her to the cabin," she growled, still carrying her anti-tank rifle.

"I guess that's a no to the fruit basket then." With a shove, my guards forced me on, right to the cabin. That was when I noticed some makeshift cells behind the cabin. The groans of the prisoners echoed nearby. I knew what had to be done now.

The interior was spartan, maps and radios taking up every available space. "You could really use an interior designer," I said, the guards binding my ankles to a flimsy wood chair. "But then I don't suppose you'd appreciate it."

"You never stop making jokes do you," my captor said, setting her rifle down. "Your cause must mean little to you."

"Or I learned how to deal with my issues a long time ago," I said, forcing a grin despite the pain in the back of my head. "But you wouldn't know about that, would you? Ms. Bloodhound of Florencia."

The woman froze, staring at the maps on one of the far walls. "How did you know?"

"You weren't exactly hiding yourself," I said, as the guards finished tying my ankles. "I mean, really, MIR wouldn't waste your life in Columbia with the cartels hunting you, and I can't think of any other person they would send so deep into the Combine's territory. Your work in the Imperial consulate in Chile though, that was not a masterstroke if you don't mind my saying."

She griped one of the pens on the table so hard it snapped in half, ink flying everywhere on the maps and papers. I kept grinning, watching out of the corner of my eyes as the other guards backed away. "I have to say though, your plan was a little sad. Wasn't too hard to figure out once I put my mind to it." Slowly, the Bloodhound turned her eye over her left shoulder, a wild look in it as she listened. "I mean, it's easy to intimidate a village. It's a whole different game to drive them away from their ancestral homes so you get more room to move in."

The kick came so fast I barely had time to register it flying at my face, sending me flying onto my right side as she circled around. Before I could comprehend what was happening, she knelt down behind me and starting putting pressure onto my back. It was too much to bear, as I cried out in pain.

"You're right about one thing," she said, letting off slightly so I could hear her. "It is hard to drive them off their land. So we had to do the next best thing." Standing, blood on her fingers, she turned to the guards. "Take her to the prisoners, some time in the cages should teach her that her interference has a price."

*Continued on page 26*

### *Inimigos da Paz: The Movement for International Revolution*

*Inimigos da Paz is a regular column with the most up to date information and statistics on the most dangerous groups known to mankind. Whether terrorists, cultists, criminal or killer, the following groups are extremely dangerous and care must be taken if encountering said people.*

**What They Claim:** The Movement for International Revolution claim to be freedom fighters seeking a Communist economic-political system. Look out for critique of Central American or South American governments as 'bourgeoisie', advocating of hostile action against the local, state, or systematic government of the United Technate, or a wholehearted advocacy of the Soviet Union and the greater COMINTERN.

**What They Are:** The Movement are not freedom fighters: they are terrorists whose leaders have encouraged violence against civilians for the purposes of bloody revolution and whose members have engaged in multiple acts of deliberate destruction designed to inflict fear in the general population.

**What You Can Do:** If your friends or family appear to be engaging in Movement rhetoric, engage them in conversation as to the true purpose of the group. Inform them of the following facts and statistics about the Movement on the section below. If you suspect the Movement may be planning acts of terrorism in your community, please contact your local Municipal Security Council.

*This column references statistics available for view at all United Technate public archives.*

### Page 26

Landing face-first in the dirt was something that I noticed was becoming far too familiar. Pulling myself up on the bars, I found myself staring at a boy wearing Combine surplus gear, a green scarf wrapped around his neck. "Mak, I presume?"

The boy looked up at me in shock. "You know my name?"

"I know your brother Bol," I said, leaning sideways on the bars. "Do the guards speak English?"

"Not that I've been able to pick up," Mak said, moving closer. "Who are you? A mercenary?"

"Name's Amy Smith," I gasped, nodding to the boy. He seemed to blink for a second, then poked me, like he was making sure I wasn't a hallucination. "Moving on, how long have you been here?"

"At least for three days," Mak said, leaning against the bars. "They only feed me one bowl of rice a day, so it's not hard to keep track. They played hell trying to find me though."

"Well that's something," I said. "Your brother and Laura are nearby, I told them to wait a half hour, then start tearing things up. They won't be driving anyone out anymore."

"Driving us out?" Mak asked. "But the villages were intimidated, the survivors told us."

"If you're trying to draw people in, you offer them something they want," I explained, trying to keep my eyes open before my body decided to shut out the pain by falling asleep. "Communists usually try to appeal to workers or oppressed minorities. But your tribes were neither. So they came on strong, angry, because they didn't want men. They wanted the jungles."

"Maybe it's the hunger, but I'm not following," Mak said. "We were the only villages in this region."

"But you all joined the Technate," I said. "If MIR had started movement with your villages in the region, they could have easily been reported on. But if MIR drives you all out first, forces all the people familiar with the region out, the Mobile Guard can't fight as effectively in the region."

"And MIR can move wherever they want," Mak said, finally catching on. "They want to make this whole region a no-go zone?"

"I'm not saying the Guard wouldn't try, they're stubborn like that," I said, laying down on my stomach. "They'd try a few times, get beaten a few times, destroy acres of forest to get at one or two safehouses. But MIR would just keep moving."

"Wait a second," Mak said, suddenly worried. "You said Bol is here? Outside the camp?"

"He's with Laura, don't worry." Grunting, I tried to keep myself comfortable. "Why are you worried?"

"First, he's my brother." Mak was looking out at the perimeter, very frightened and trying to back away as much as possible. "Second, he's with the woman your radio show says is like an avatar of destruction."

I was about to argue when I heard the first explosions. "Okay, maybe you have a little point."

The camp was suddenly alive with shouting, the guard outside the bars brandishing his blade against whatever enemy he was expected to face. He backed right into the bars, trying to protect his back, so I did the only thing I could think of to help him relax. I jumped up despite the pain and grabbed his jugular vein. The guard tried to let out a scream, but it came out a strangled squeak barely audible among the explosions. Grinning despite the pain, I turned to Mak as I grabbed for the keys. "So, ready to wreak some havoc?"

Mak cracked his knuckles, grinning wide as I unlocked the cages. Smiling, I tossed him the machete and went towards the hut, listening inside for what might be happening.

"Both the vans are destroyed, I want someone to get those fires out now!" the Bloodhound shouted, sending her followers every way but to the cages. "Get the bushwackers to the perimeter, if this is the Mobile Guard I want them held off as long as possible."

"Perfect," I whispered. "That just makes our job easier." Nodding to Mak, I lead him to the front door and kicked it in, catching one of the Cubans that had followed the Bloodhound underneath.

"Seems like you've got quite the infestation," I said, Mak holding the other Cuban in the cabin at machete-point. "Maybe you should-"

I barely ducked in time to miss the round from the Bloodhound's anti-tank rifle, the round punching a massive hole through the walls of the cabin. Apparently the time for talking was over. Silently, she charged at me, firing off another round from the rifle. The fact that she could do so with one hand told me one thing; if she landed a single hit on me, I was down for the count.

"Something I never quite understood about that incident in Chile," I said, starting to circle to the left, away from the door. "Why'd you do it? The staff were civilians right?" She took another shot, the force of the round flying through the air nearly blowing out my eardrum as it passed my head. The Bloodhound's eyes looked wilder, her garrison cap askew now as she circled with me. But her face was set, and I knew there was not breaking it. I needed to press harder. "Tell me, how does killing a government clerk help the revolution?"

"Anyone who serves their emperor is a target," she whispered. "Just like how anyone who would bow to the Technate is guilty of destroying the people's rights. All you did was give these people radios and cars. We can offer them equality, a nation where they don't fear hunger."

"Yes, herding them onto collective farms is just the solution," I spat back. "So, are you going to dance me all day? Or are you going to prove that I'm just as much of a threat as a salaryman?"

Her face suddenly placid, she went for my neck. The rifle clattered to the floor, and I barely moved in time to put air where my head had been. Her fist practically punched through the wall, as another set of explosions went off. I thought I heard something about the ammo dump going off, but focused on the fact that I needed to disable the Bloodhound. I'd gotten her angry, now I needed to take her down. I sent a jab to her outstretched arm at the elbow, then another to her neck. As she spun around, I deflected her left arm flying at my face and made a sharp hit on her voicebox. Gasping for air, she faltered to the floor. Boxing her ears, I kicked her in the stomach to take more air out of her, and finished by slammed my boot into the side of her head. Smiling, I turned to see Mak and the Cuban staring at me, the Cuban shocked. "Mak, maybe you should knock him out?" Blinking back to reality, Mak slammed the hilt of the machete into the Cuban's next, but not before the Cuban smiled. I realized too late that he was smiling at something rising from the floor.

I tried too turn around, but the Bloodhound headbutted me in the back. Screaming as I feel, I was cutoff by her hands wrapping around my throat like a rope, squeezing the air out of me. Mak tried to move to help but I was being used as a shield. Not that it mattered, since the Bloodhound could easily destroy him.

"You could never have stopped us," she said, no trace of emotion of even hate in her voice. Roughly, she turned me to the map on the wall. Her round had gone through where we were, Yet I could see, all along Brazil's borders, a series of circles in red. "We've already made our movements. You only stopped our advance. The revolution is on the move."

I stared at the map in shock, realizing that already MIR had entered Brazil's northern borders. Even if this was their largest hideout in the jungles, it wasn't enough. "You really planned this all out," I gasped, trying to draw as much air in as possible. "I don't suppose you can tell me how you made it across the border unnoticed?"

The Bloodhound tightened her grip, darkness falling over my eyes as my brain started to suffer from lack of oxygen. I had to do something, otherwise Laura might just commit a war crime on the MIR who were left. With the little strength I could gather, I sent my fore and middle fingers back over my left shoulder, hoping to catch her in the eye. Of course, she dodged it easily. Worth a shot though, right?

"Pathetic," she said. "If this is what the Technate can offer as their best, we'll have no problem in ending your sad empire."

"Get in line." There was a solid thump, and both the Bloodhound and I fell to the floor. Gasping for air, I saw a short-haired tan beauty standing over me, checking my pulse with one hand and holding a Soviet machine gun in the other. "You okay babe?"

"I'll live," I wheezed. "Bol's outside?"

"Yeah," Laura said, Mak running out and shouting at his little brother for coming along. "C'mon, we need to get outta here."

"No, I need the radio," I said, using Laura to hobble over to the radio. Collapsing onto the table, I grabbed at the controls desperately dialing to to MGRD. "To any CBURA operatives listening on this frequency, this is Amy Smith broadcasting a high alert message: MIR guerrillas have moved into Brazil's borders and are displacing native tribes, repeat. MIR guerrillas have move into Brazil's borders and are displacing native tribes. Request immediate support at the following coordinates."

"Babe?" Laura said as I rattled off the location. "There's a bullet hole in the radio set."

Blinking, I looked over to see a gaping hole in the set. Right through the speaker. "It means we can't know for sure if they heard the message or not," I said, before the brothers could ask what happened. "How many were left in the camp when you came for me?"

"More than enough," Laura said, letting go as I stood on my own power. "What do we do?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked, shuffling over to pick up another machine gun in the hut. "We finish our trip."

Laura grinned, looking out the door to the burning camp. "Both of you stay behind us," she ordered. "Take a gun when you find one, cover us from the rear." The brothers nodded, lining up behind Laura and I at the door. Laura shot me a grin. "Happy anniversary."

"Here's to many more." Taking a deep breath, we charged out into the camp, smoke and fire covering every building. MIR fighters ran everywhere, screaming to each other about the ammunition being on fire. Not wanting to wait around for that, we ran. That was when I heard one of them screaming, "The enemy!"

As one Laura and I pulled our guns up and started firing bursts. Three seconds, smooth as silk with each squeeze. I covered the left, Laura the right. Orange-armband wearing fighters were streaming out of every burning building in the camp, and noticed that we weren't wearing orange. I caught a charging machetero in the chest with a solid burst, walking it up his chest as he fell. A massive man wrapped in dynamite tried to throw a stick as us, but Laura caught him with a burst of tracers, the man vanishing in a brilliant fireball. Mak and Bol must've picked up rifles on the way, I could hear the pops from behind us sounding with a steady beat.

It was almost like a shooting gallery, marching through the camp as the guerrillas tried to stop us. I saw three men with machetes down bottles of the Devil's Booze, screaming as they tried to cut us down. I had to empty an entire belt into them just to make them fall, and even then they tried to crawl forward on bloody dirt. Our rounds threw dirt and dust everywhere, massive tree branches falling where we'd let loose. A woman atop one of the guard towers tried to take a shot at me with her anti-tank rifle, only for Bol and Mak to fire on her until their clips were empty. By now we were on the edge of the camp, the combination of fires, fighting, and panic covering our escape.

"C'mon, we need to keep heading south," Laura barked, hoisting my right arm over her shoulder to carry me out. "We have to keep running before-"

The blast of the ammo dump reverberated through the jungle, the shockwave blasting through our bodies a split second before we heard the blast. Laura and I fell forward into the dirt, I could see Mak fall sideways into a tree as Bol landed hard on a rock. Gripping at what I could, I tried to pull myself up and keep moving forward, pulling at Laura as she pulled at me. By that point it was sheer instinct, the distant shouting of the survivors drawing ever closer. I heard a buzzing sound, and figured my eardrums had given up too.

"Hey, look, we're, we're saved!" Bol shouted, forcing my eyes up to see three Unity airships coming in, crushing whatever they landed on only to disgorge three Resolutions each. There were more airships on the way, small planes flying cover over the forest. Mobile Guard soldiers streamed out of the APCs, as I saw a familiar supervisor walking towards us.

"I figured you'd both be getting into trouble," Supervisor Lynne growled, pulling Laura and I up, oblivious to our exhausted states. "I thought you two were on vacation, celebrating your anniversary?"

"Well, you know we both love a party," I said, still leaning on Laura. "Thank God you heard that broadcast."

"Don't give me that, you knew we were on exercises in the area." Glaring, Lynne marched forward, adjusting her cap and putting on her aviators. "Next time you need someone to bail you out of trouble, don't come crying to me."

"That was incredible," Bol said, starry eyed as he walked over. "I just went on an adventure with Amy Smith and Laura North!"

"And now we'll never hear the end of it," Mak said, rubbing his forehead. "Thank you both, we would've lost everything if you hadn't come around."

"It was nothing," Laura said, grinning. "Now, if you'll both excuse us, I have to drag my girlfriend home and explain why the jungle is not appropriate for a vacation." Turning, Laura gave me an evil grin. "And her back won't be an excuse."

### Epilogue

"Mail call babe," Laura said, opening the door to my workshop. "Lynne wrote, said they're still trying to find all the MIR hideouts. She says Bol and Mak have been a big help though, said it was the only good suggestion you ever gave her."

"I try my best," I said, finishing my soldering. Taking a deep breath of ozone, I got up and walked over. "Did they find the Bloodhound yet?"

Laura shook her head. "I don't get it though, I put her out. How'd she manage to dismantle a stormtrooper and kill three Pacifica troopers?"

"They call her the Bloodhound for a reason," I said, taking off my goggles. "Once she has a scent, she never lets go." Hugging Laura, I looked down into her eyes. "Still, as far as vacations go it was better than our trip to Kansas City."

Laura gave me a grin, leaning in close to my face. Then she jabbed me in the stomach and dipped me in her arms. "I think it's time to show you how a real vacation should be spent."

Smiling, I let her do just that.

## NEXT ISSUE: HIGH ADVENTURE IN THE ANDES MOUNTAINS!

 ***Echoes of Adventure***
 ***Journey through the Quantum Gate***
 ***The Battle Against Annihilation***
 ***The Null Set***
 ***The Pandemonium Peril Palooza***
 ***Insatiable Incidents Of Insanity***
 ***Excursion Into Extremist Lands***
 ***Sightseeing At Silentium Soiree***
(R.U.N.) • Uncovering Multidimensional Conspiracies of Doomsday Puppeteers • Majestical Mystical Magnificent Maidens of an Ancient Order • Attack on Titans from the Under-Earth • (Abyssal Ancients) • (Drakonate of Rigelis) • My Secret Affair with a Multidimensional Black-Ops Agent • (The Horde of Unliving Metal) • The Million Man Militia of the Yellow River • (Polynesia Ltd.) • (NKGB Division A) • (Y-Files) • (Imperial Department for Anomalies) • (CBURA) • (SPIDER) • How I Won my Freedom in the Blood-Soaked Arena of Aliens Warlords • (Intergalactic Explorer's Lodges)