Brose at The Center

by Jennifer Sue

Part 5

As soon as the Butt Kickers arrived at the Center, Brose called them together for a meet, greet, and eat. A corner of the school cafeteria had been set aside for them so they could avail themselves of the supper selections. Since everyone knew Brose, she waited at the pushed together tables until everyone was seated. At that point she had them stand one by one as she introduced each person with a brief background, mission experience, and areas of expertise. The only ones who had no mission experience were the McGuires, but they had plenty of hunting experience and had received a lot of training since their arrival. After the introductions, they went en-masse to the serving line. The serving staff had been forewarned and Brose told everyone they could eat to their heart's content since the next day would be one of orientation and being fitted for gear. The conversation was light and the food good. Everyone got to know their fellow unit members.

"Our official name is BATTLE UNIT, TACTICAL, KEY INTERDICTION, KWIK RESOLUTION," Brose explained as she grew serious after everyone had finished eating as the general conversation dwindled. "That sounds a bit wordy until you spell Kwik K-W-I-K. Then our acronym becomes B-U-T-K-I-K-R. People, we ARE officially the BUTT KICKERS!"

That had them all laughing.

Once they settled down Brose went on. "We will be the Center's primary strike force. It's quite likely we'll be sent out of country for covert operations to take out terrorist bases. Our primary mission is to destroy the enemy wherever they are found. The use of extreme prejudice will be in effect at all times unless specific restrictions are given. We'll ask for no quarter but will take prisoners if they surrender. I've selected a theme song for us."

Msg. McNeil pushed the play button on the boombox. They all recognized the tune and smiled when Toby Keith's familiar drawl began. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NynbLtRLisg)

"American girls and American guys, will always stand up and salute.
We'll always recognize, when we see ol' glory flying,
There's a lot of men dead,
So we can sleep in peace at night when we lay down our heads.
My daddy served in the army where he lost his right eye,
But he flew a flag out in our yard 'til the day that he died.
He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me.
To grow up and live happy in the land of the free."

"Now this nation that I love is fallin' under attack.
A mighty sucker-punch came flying in from somewhere in the back.
Soon as we could see clearly through our big black eye,
Man, we lit up your world like the fourth of July."

"Hey, Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list,
And the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist.
And the eagle will fly and it's gonna be hell,
When you hear Mother Freedom start ringing her bell.
And it'll feel like the whole wide world is raining down on you.
Ah, brought to you, courtesy of the red, white and blue."

"Oh, justice will be served and the battle will rage:
This big dog will fight when you rattle his cage.
An' you'll be sorry that you messed with the U.S. of A.
'Cos we'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way."

"Hey, Uncle Sam put your name at the top of his list,
And the Statue of Liberty started shaking her fist.
And the eagle will fly and it's gonna be hell,
When you hear Mother Freedom start ringing her bell.
And it'll feel like the whole wide world is raining down on you.
Ah, brought to you, courtesy of the red, white and blue."

"Oh, oh.
Of the red, white and blue.
Oh, hey, oh.
Of my Red, White and Blue."

They all laughed and applauded.

"I hope you feel like I do. 'Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue' says it all," Brose smiled then quoted the song. "Oh, justice will be served and the battle will rage: This big dog will fight when you rattle his cage. An' you'll be sorry that you messed with the U.S. of A., 'Cos we'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way... We're going to be the boot in the terrorist's ass. We are the BUTT KICKERS!"

The entire group applauded, stood, whistled, whooped and cheered. The BUTT KICKERS had arrived! The others in the cafeteria stopped what they were doing when the tape had began and all heard Brose's declaration that they were the butt kickers. None of them doubted the veracity of their name.

The next day they met at the armory. Brose was already there in her full combat kit. Everyone was stunned by the arsenal she packed.

"This is my kit," Brose began. "Each of you will customize your own kit. Just be aware that you have to carry the kit. What I'm wearing weighs two hundred twenty pounds. I weigh a hundred thirty pounds. I can run with this kit and jog two hours cross country. A lot of my weight is in ammunition for my six weapons. If I shed my sniper rifle, all the ammo goes with it. The same goes for my shotgun and my M4A1. Create your kit with things like that in mind. You don't want to shed a weapon and still carry ammo. By the same token you don't want to shed ammo for a weapon you'll still carry. You also need to think about rations, water, and med kit. The armory staff can advise you. Work together, be free with your opinion and advise. Remember, we want everyone to be efficient and able to do their job. Tomorrow morning we'll assemble at 0600 for a ten mile cross country run in our full kits. After that we'll come back here and make any adjustments that might be needed. Also, you can make kit revisions as we train."

Brose stayed in her full kit as she aided the others. At times she removed a portion and showed what she had placed where and why. Each member of the Butt Kickers selected a range of weapons and kitted themselves always with an eye not only to their personal choice but also to their ability to contribute to the unit. Brose was the only member whose kit weighed more than the person carrying it.

At 0600 the next morning she led the ten mile cross country trek at a jog, with five minute breaks every two miles, impressing the rest of the unit with her strength and stamina. No one fell out.

Then began weeks of unit and individual training. Parkour was an eye opening experience that everyone enjoyed and mastered... until Brose had them do it in full battle kit. While not quite as spry, they did manage to do well and learned their limits, which was the objective Brose wanted. They all mastered HALO jumping and mountaineering. Their combat training was not overlooked. All became expert at hand-to-hand combat, unarmed, knife, tomahawk, and even rocks and tree limbs. They learned to fight dirty, taking out their opponent quickly and silently. In addition to the Ka-Bar combat knife and tomahawk, Brose insisted they all carry a piano wire garrotte. Each trained in every discipline and area of expertise.

*****

The first mission for the Butt Kickers began to take shape. The logistics were a nightmare. There was no way the raid could utilize military transport or even military bases. The State Department could not be involved, nor could the CIA. Plus many at The Center felt they could not be fully trusted. It would be impossible to fly in as the distance to Bolivia was too far for small aircraft and any plane large enough to reach there would need to land at a major airport, thus alerting the Bolivians. To get the unit and it’s equipment in place would be a challenge. Thanks to a recent deal between Bolivia and Peru, a plan began to take shape.

Bolivian President Evo Morales and his Peruvian counterpart, Alan Garcia, signed a deal at the end of October, 2010 giving Bolivia a 99-year lease to four square kilometers of desolate shoreline near Peru's southern port of Ilo. For Bolivia, the deal with Peru was a practical matter with substantial economic implications. It opened the door for Bolivians to have an international port, to the use of the ocean for global trade and for Bolivian products to have better access to global markets. It's not evident what benefits Garcia and Peru will get from the deal with Bolivia. But there is speculation in the region that Garcia is hoping for Morales's support in Peru's continuing dispute with Chile over their maritime borders.

Direct access to the ocean will cut the distance goods have to travel to Asian markets by 40 per cent. Most of those products are natural resources such as zinc, tin and silver, with which Bolivia is well-endowed. But in the future, the new port will have much greater significance when Bolivia starts developing its massive reserves of lithium, the essential metal for modern lightweight batteries used in cars, cellphones, laptop computers and many other electronic gadgets.

Bolivia has what some estimates say is seventy per cent of the world's known reserves of lithium contained in the brine under its great Uyuni salt lake. While foreign investors have been clamoring for a piece of the action, Morales, one of South America's few remaining socialist presidents, insists Bolivia will finance the development itself to ensure the country doesn't just export ore, but also acquires a lithium battery manufacturing industry. Bolivia will invest $700 million, and expects to start producing in 2014 eventually producing 30,000 tons of lithium a year.

It was hoped that once the strike was made against the neo-Nazis, President Morales would be so glad to be rid of the threat the wealthy far right wing group presented that he'd look the other way. Of course that still meant a non-military precision strike by a small elite force... the Butt Kickers!

It was decided that Msg. McNeil would take on the role of a grad student assistant of a university professor of archaeology while the rest of the unit would pose as undergraduate students. Their stated objective was to examine Samaipata and survey the nearby rugged mountainous terrain in the Amboro National Park of Bolivia for evidence of Inca settlements.

The infokinetics searched the Federal prison system for a con-man. They discovered a man who had made and sold fake Inca and pre-Inca relics. James Goldschmidt had posed as a University Professor of Archaeology to convince people he was legit to make the sales. Brose flew to the prison he was being held to speak with him. With his credentials from DHS, he was able to secure an interview. Brose explained about AZIF being behind the two recent terrorists attacks and AZIF's connections to Bolivian neo-Nazis. Pandering to Mr. Goldschmidt's family history... his grandparents had died his parents had survived the Nazi Concentration camps... Brose offered to have Mr Goldschmidt released from prison with his sentence commuted and paid a sizeable sum for his services in stopping the neo-Nazis. Mr. Goldschmidt was quite interested as he had seven more years to serve and wouldn't mind getting back of at the Nazis. Once he accepted the deal, Ms Fine pulled the necessary stings to spring Mr. Goldschmidt into DHS custody.

Setting him up in a secure facility, his assigned handler explained the plan to send in a clandestine team that would not be traceable back to the US. Mr. Goldschmidt would pose as a professor of archaeology leading a group of students to Samaipata to give the group a cover story for being in the Bolivia. Mr. Goldschmidt was to portray an affable white haired bearded older man who spoke with a French accent. Fake PHD credentials were provided. Since Mr. Goldschmidt was conversant in Spanish and in South American Archaeology he was the perfect candidate. They began teaching him to speak with a French accent and reviewing the Archaeology of the Inca and pre Inca in Peru and Bolivia. Professor Jean Claude Renoir was thus born. The man had to be able to handle any questions from Bolivian authorities about the group. The entire operation would have no official connections to the US.

The infokinetics had to secure credentials from a suitable university in a foreign nation. They settled on the University of British Columbia, UBC's Vancouver Campus. Their Classical, Near Eastern, and Religious Studies (CNERS) department had a strong record in the archaeological field, with members involved in a wide range of archaeological excavations around the world.

The infokinetics broke into the UBC mainframe and copied files from CNERS to use as a formats for their forgeries. Then using the CNERS Department format they created a fake professor, a fake grad student, and fake undergraduate students. For each they created histories that included all past schooling and course work from high school on. They included financial aid and accounts paid histories. Then using the CNERS format they created a fake course in Pre-Inca Archaeology complete with a syllabus that involved field work in the Bolivian Andes. They made sure the class had filled it's quota and all accounts were paid.

Then the infokinetics researched recent expeditions to their chosen site to find out what permits were needed. They selected the University of Arkansas 3D survey at El Fuerte de Samaipata that was conducted over the course of three days in July of 2006. An Optech ILRIS 3D scanner was used to measure and record tens of millions of survey points in a semi- automated fashion across the surface of El Fuerte. The scanner collects data points for surfaces that are within its range and field of view and therefore the scanner must be repositioned at various points around its target.

That expedition was done in collaboration with three Bolivians, Omar Claure CallaẠof the Unidad de Turismo y Cultura de la Prefectura Florida, Richard Alcazar, Arqueologo Residente Centro de Investigaciones Antropologicas y Arqueologicas de Samaipata (CIAAS), and Mario Alvarado Claudio, an Anthropologist and with permits from DINAR (DIRECCION NACIONAL DE ARQUEOLOGIa) and CAIS (CENTRO DE INVESIGACIONES ARQUEOLOGICALS SAMAIPATA) in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. The project was made possible by a grant from the Independent Power Corporation PLC, Prince Consort House, 27-29 Albert Embankment, London, SE1 7TJ, United Kingdom.

Brose led a small team consisting of Sunny, Shadow, Tricia the electrokinetic, Emo Kirk the projecting empath, Msg. McNeil, Cpl. Michael an expert at infiltration, and Pfc. High the techno geek to the Campus of the University of Arkansas where they broke into the offices of the Department of Anthropology in the Old Main building room 330, in Fayetteville, Arkansas. In the records of the department office they found the originals of the permits and scanned them with high resolution scanners to show the smallest details of the official Bolivian stamps and seals as well as taking minute slivers to enable the forgers to duplicate the texture and make-up of the paper if it proved necessary to fake permits.

Once back at The Center, the infokinetics set to work forging identical looking permits with all the appropriate seals and stamps with the names and dates changed to reflect the new expedition. They also forged sponsorship grant documents from the Independent Power Corporation PLC. Once everything was completed. Brose led the same team to the UBC Vancouver campus. They broke into the CNERS offices in the Buchanan Building and planted hard copies of the false records and documents. They also tapped into the department phone system and intranet, installing relays that intercepted all incoming calls and e-mails, broadcasting them to a satellite for transfer to the Beta Site. At the Beta Site they set up a monitoring system and caller ID. The next night Brose's team broke into the main offices of UBC to plant appropriate hard copies in their files.

If the incoming call came from someone The Center mission planners had contacted, the call would be routed to a Center operative. All other calls would be routed through as normal. The screening would take about two seconds and once answered, their would be no noticeable lag. The Center mission planners could also make outgoing calls from the UBC CERNS offices. The same applied to e-mail. This would enable the mission planners to make the trip arrangements 'from' the CERNS offices.

For the first time in his life Goldschmidt felt he had a chance to do something worthwhile. His time in prison had given him the opportunity to realize his life had been wasted. His parents were haunted by their experiences and made sure he knew his heritage. Yet they had made a successful life in the US but had been miserly in their living, donating quite a bit of their money to help fellow holocaust survivors. James had resented this as their largesse had denied him the finer things in life. In college he found he had a flare for acting and an interest in Archaeology. Unfortunately he also liked to party. Needless to say his parents were angry when he flunked out. Ashamed to go home, he began traveling, falling in with a group of pseudo hippie con artists. The rest, as they say, became history.

The project before him would be a wonderful scam, the biggest scam he'd ever undertaken and for a good cause. The payoff would keep him comfortably for the rest of his life. James Goldschmidt put all of himself into the persona of Professor Jean Paul Renoir, a French national with a doctoral degree in South American Archaeology. He read every research paper and thesis he could lay his hands on to increase his knowledge.

When he was ready, Professor Renoir and his grad assistant Glenn Scott(Msg. McNeil) flew to Bolivia to attempt to obtain legitimate permits and documents for the 'expedition'. Before they arrived they had contacted the appropriate Bolivian governmental departments and schools to make appointments with the officials who had signed the permits for the 2006 University of Arkansas expedition.

At the meetings, Prof. Renoir easily schmoozed the officials. Since they didn't want to do any excavation but only surface surveys of the region inside Amboro National Park, there was little problem. They wanted to use El Fuerte at Samaipata as an open classroom, camping just outside Amboro to make the survey trips inside easier.

As an incentive to insure approval, the expedition would be landing at the Peruvian port of Ilo. They would have their supplies pre-packed inside four new Ford F-150 crew cab four by fours with aluminum caps over the cargo area. The trucks had already been solicited from Ford as donations to UBC with the idea they would be left in Bolivia once the 'expedition' was completed to aid the Bolivian preservation efforts. One truck would go to those managing Amboro National Park, another to the Unidad de Turismo y Cultura de la Prefectura Florida, another to DINAR (DIRECCION NACIONAL DE ARQUEOLOGIa) and the last to CAIS (CENTRO DE INVESIGACIONES ARQUEOLOGICALS SAMAIPATA) in Santa Cruz.

Prof. Renoir and his grad student had no problems getting the needed permits and passes. The 'expedition' was officially sanctioned by the Bolivian government and effected agencies. The duo drove from Bolivia to Peru to make arrangements for easy unloading of the trucks in Ilo. By showing the Bolivian permits, they would only have a cursory customs check when they arrived. The permits would also ensure an easy border crossing between Peru and Bolivia.

The Butt Kickers plus three additional soldiers from the Center headed to Vancouver. The three extra soldiers were detailed as guards for the Professor and the trucks. They would also guard the base camp while the team was out on the mission. The Ford trucks were picked up from a Ford dealer in Vancouver by Msg. McNeil and three other soldiers posing as UBC staff. This wasn't a problem as the call that the trucks had arrived came in on the CNERS tapped lines. Taken to an abandoned warehouse, the trucks were modified by the team to hide the weaponry and ammunition the Butt Kickers would need. Then the class 'survey' equipment, actually high tech surveillance equipment with spy satellite access, was loaded along with camping gear and spare clothes and boots. The backs of each truck were thoroughly stuffed without an inch to spare.

A coastal freighter was chartered to haul the trucks and the 'class' to Peru. The ship owner was allowed take on any other cargo he could fit in as long as the trucks and 'class' would be the first off the ship when it arrived in Ilo.

The MV Klassen was a coastal freighter in BC, Canada with a length of two hundred twenty two and a half feet, a width of twenty three point eight feet and a draft of twelve and a third feet when fully loaded. Top speed was twelve knots consuming sixty two gph, at nine knots it consumed forty nine gph, six knots was thirty three gph and three knots was eighteen gph. With a diesel fuel capacity of thirty one thousand seven hundred gallons the ship could travel five hundred fifty one hours at full speed covering a bit over seven thousand six hundred miles. Built in Hamburg Germany in 1961 the twin deck single screw all steel ship with one long hold and tween decks, was originally built and classed DNV Ice Class C. This class notation verifies that the vessel can operate in light ice conditions and thus call into ports which occasionally experience some light first-year ice. The forward region of the ship was strengthened with thicker plates and heavier stiffeners and frames in the defined ice belt region. Two sets of main deck weather tight folding hatch covers were arranged to give access to the forward and aft ends of the tween deck space. The tween deck hatches had lift out panels and hatchway beams accessing the hold. Double bottom tanks are provided for the carriage of fuel, oil and water ballast. Two five ton SWL swinging derricks were fitted on the bow.

With everything in place, the 'students' and their teachers boarded the MV Klassen in Vancouver. Averaging nine knots, the twenty six day ship day trip was spent with Prof. Renoir teaching the students as much about Inca and pre-Inca history and archaeology as he could. The man was well versed in the subject matter and he made it interesting to the class. Not only did the team want to appear knowledgeable, but they actually learned what he was teaching and they yearned for more.

As for Prof. Renoir, he found the team to be interesting and eager students. In truth, he found it difficult to believe the teens were actually part of a crack combat team. Even more difficult for him to believe was that Brose was a WO1 and the unit commander. But he saw her issuing orders and everyone obeyed without question. She also led the group in daily calisthenics and laps around the deck. She clearly had the most stamina amongst the way above average physical conditioned group. Even the sea toughened crew was stunned when she easily benched two hundred and fifty pounds on the foredeck where they stored work-out gear. By the second day, Prof Renoir joined the group in their daily fitness regimen. Of course he couldn’t begin to keep up with them but by the time they arrived in Ilo, he was in the best shaped he’d been since he was twenty five.

*****

Ilo is the southernmost of the three ports which comprise the Peruvian termini of the Interoceanic Highway which is being constructed to link the state of Acre, in the Amazon Basin in Brazil, across the Andes to the Pacific Ocean. With 58,000 inhabitants, it is the largest city in the Moquegua Region and capital of the province of Ilo.

The offloading went fairly quickly as the customs people had been notified of the expedition. They didn’t even try to open the jam-packed backs of the four trucks as they passed through a cursory inspection. The local customs staff figured since they were heading into Bolivia, Peru had nothing to worry about.

They’d landed at eleven and were on the road by three. As they drove out of Ilo, the group followed the Interoceanic Highway eastward. The road was not nearly up to US standards but was better than most in South America. They stopped for the night in the town of Moquegua about sixty miles inland. It had taken them three hours. They’d traveled through the foothills. Armed with rifles and pistols, the three extra soldiers took turns guarding the vehicles as the others slept.

After a light breakfast shortly after dawn they hit the road. The Andes loomed before them. An hour and fifteen miles later they reached the town of Torata in a lush mountain valley. They were now in the majestic Andes Mountains but higher mountains were still ahead. The next hour and ten miles were steadily uphill with multiple switchbacks. Then they emerged on a high ridge and the road traveled onward, down into valleys, up mountains, along ridges, always with towering mountains about them and no towns or villages for six hours and a hundred and fifteen miles until they neared Puno on the Western shore of Lake Titicaca.

After refueling and snacks, they set of southeast along the shores of Lake Titcaca, traveling seventy five mile in three hours on the decent paved two lane road to the twin town of Desaguadero on the Peru/Bolivian Border at the southern end of Lake Titicaca. They spent their last night in Peru there, exhausted by the long drive. Again the three soldiers pulled guard duty.

The group slept in until seven, then ate a leisurely breakfast before joining the queue for the border crossing. This way they missed the morning rush of locals. With their papers in order and all the proper approvals and authorizations, they too were soon on their way with nothing more than an external visual check. About six miles after leaving the Bolivian half of Desaguardo, the paved road dwindled to a gravel track for about fifteen miles as it skirted the southern most shore of Lake Titicaca. When the road again becomes paved, it is Bolivian National Route 3. The group followed BNR 3 thirty miles to the city of Nuestra Senora de La Paz, better known simply as La Paz, the Bolivian capital. Here they stopped to refuel and have lunch. From there they took BNR 1 eighty miles south to the town of Caracollo. The road was good and they made that leg in two hours. From there they picked up BNR 4 heading east for two hours and sixty miles to the town of Cochabamba. BNR 4 ran southeast through the mountains, skirting the southern borders of heavily forested and quite mountainous twin National Parks of Carrasco and Amboro. The one hundred twenty mile trip took four hours, and they reached the village of Samiapata just as night fell. They spent the night under the stars as the three soldiers watched over them..

In the morning they explored the small town of Samaipata, a quiet town of colonial buildings and pleasant weather near the millennial pre-Inca ruins of El Fuerte. Samaipata (in Quechua) means "rest in the hills", and it's located at five thousand four hundred feet above the sea level in the eastern foothills of the Bolivian Andes. Samaipata is seventy five miles from Santa Cruz de la Sierra, the capital of Florida Province and center of German expatriate life in Bolivia. About nine they traveled out to the archaeology site located on the south side of BNR 4.

El Fuerte de Samaipata (Fort Samaipata) is five miles from the center of the town, also known simply as 'El Fuerte', is an archaeological site and UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is not actually a military fortification but it is generally considered a pre-Columbian religious site. Construction began about 800 CE by the Moyocoya and Chanes, a pre-Inca culture of Arawak origin who controlled it until the Guarani briefly conquered it about 1300 CE. Their rule was short as they in turn fell before the Inca in 1350, who built an Inca city near the temple during the Inca expansion to the southeast. Both Incas and Chanes suffered several raids from Guarani warriors that invaded the region from time to time. Eventually, the Guarani warriors conquered the plains and valleys of Santa Cruz and destroyed Samaipata. The Guaranis dominated the region well into the Spanish colonial period. The Spaniards also built a settlement near the temple and there are remains of buildings of typical Arab Andalusian architecture. The Spaniards abandoned the settlement and moved to the nearby valley were the town of Samaipata is currently located. The archeological site at El Fuerte is unique and it encompasses buildings of three different cultures: Chanes, Incas and Spaniards. El Fuerte worked as an administrative, political and ceremonial place for the different cultures of the area. "The Fort" is divided into the Ceremonial and the Administrative areas.

The Ceremonial part is shaped by a large rock of seven hundred twenty two feet by one hundred ninety seven feet, carved with geometric and zoomorphic forms. It's said to be the largest carved stone in the world. Devotion to sacred animals and the study of astronomy are represented in the figures of the rock. The most important feature of El Fuerte seems to be El Cascabel. Two parallel lines point to certain points in the eastern sky. An astronomical curiosity One could have looked along the parallel lines, and watched the parallel rising of planets Venus and Jupiter at sunrise on August 20, 1066 above both lines against the background of constellation Leo. Some archaeologists contend that unusual carvings on the rocks may be from a pre-Inca civilization on this Amazonian slope who were commemorating the flyover of Halley's Comet in March 1066. Due to damage caused by visitors walking on the symbols cut into the rock and by erosion caused by rain, the inner area is cordoned off to prevent more damage. The site is under the care of Stonewatch, which is a non profit society and academy for conservation and documentation of rock art.

Another sector of the ruins consists of different buildings that were used as houses, reservoirs, aqueducts, etc. The archaeologists are often amazed by the use of rock in this monument and its aesthetic balancing the landscape of the place.

There are several interesting features including a sloping ramp, pronounced by pseudo-archaeologist and flying saucer enthusiast Erich von Daniken in his book "Chariots of the Gods" to be a launch platform and landing site for spaceships.

After registering with Stonewatch, the group toured the site and had lunch there. Afterward, they caravanned to the northern side of BNR 4 and onto the dirt roads past farms and estates as they headed into the increasingly rugged mountains. They drove about ten miles to a small open mountaintop plateau at the end of a dirt track. They were at six thousand nine hundred feet above sea level. The slow drive from the coast to get there had allowed their bodies to somewhat acclimate to the altitude. They were only four miles from El Fuerte in a straight line and two and a half miles inside Amboro National Park. They were about twenty five miles from La Cruz, the peak they thought was the secret neo-Nazi base. But that was as the bird flies. On foot through the rugged mountains would probably be closer to thirty miles.

Amboro covers an area of one thousand seven hundred nine square miles, it is protected from human settlements, hunting, mining and deforestation, though problems with all these still exist within the park. Carrasco National Park is northwest and adjacent to Amboro. Located at the "Elbow of the Andes", where the eastern cordillera bends slightly westward from its north course, Amboro lies within three distinct ecosystems, the foothills of the Andes, the northern Chaco, and the Amazon Basin. The peculiar features of the geography of the Amboro park area determine the biological makeup, with a great variety of flora and fauna. The altitude in the park ranges from nine hundred seventy five feet up to eleven thousand five hundred feet above sea level with an annual rainfall ranging between fifty five inches and one hundred sixty inches.

The area is bordered to the north and south by two roads that connect the cities of Cochabamba and Santa Cruz. The southern road, built in the 1950s and once asphalted, was left decaying after the opening of the northern route in the 1980s. Today it has returned to gravel and dirt, limiting traffic and commercial exchange on south side of Amboro National Park. Off of these two roads are a number of secondary gravel ones, allowing access to the more developed parts of the northern and southern Integrated Management Natural Areas or IMNAs. In 1991, the park size was extended without prior consultation of the local population and disregarding legitimate private property rights, a move which triggered serious protests and resistance against the park. A consensus was finally reached with the establishment of two different management categories, indicated on the ground by a so-called "Red Line", a narrow trail that marks the boundary between the National Park and the Integrated Management Natural Zone, effectively a Multiple Use Zone. Local conflicts have since forced a constant redefinition of limits, so the exact boundaries between the two categories are not precisely known.

Small trails and river beds permit pedestrian access to the park, although this is limited by the rough topography. The principal access points to the northern zone are the towns of Buena Vista, Santa Fe, and Yapacani, along the northern Cochabamba-Santa Cruz road. Several dirt tracks lead off from there notably to Espejitos, Saguayá³, La Chonta, Macuá±ucu and to the Yapacani river. In the southern zone, the principal access points are also secondary roads principally departing from the towns of El Torno, Samaipata, Mairana, Pampa Grande, Mataral, and Comarapa which are located on the main highway.

So far, two thousand six hundred fifty nine plant species have been recognized in Amboro National Park. One hundred twenty seven species of mammals have been registered. Among the large mammals are the spectacled bear, the jaguar, puma, ocelot and the giant anteater. The park has one hundred five species of amphibians. The number of bird species observed within the area exceeds eight hundred forty, or more than sixty percent of the country’s total. Finally, one hundred nine species of fish have been identified in the IMNA alone, with a clear dependence on altitude.

Utilizing military grade spy satellite images, they were not only able to see the flora along the route, they were able to see through the trees to the topography underneath. They spent a day unpacking and organizing. The Professor and three guards would stay at the base and monitor the Butt Kickers. Since the ‘class’ was supposedly surveying the mountains in Amboro for ruins, their absence from camp would not be unusual. Bright and early they loaded up their packs and headed out northwest towards La Cruz.

The first portion was downhill. They either traveled under a canopy of trees with little underbrush, seldom seeing the sun except for occasional dappled sunlight or burst forth into a mountain meadow. The two alternated regularly. The first two miles they descended two thousand feet into the valley where a small stream trickled further downhill. After that they followed the meandering course of the stream as it made it’s way towards the Amazon River. They stopped for five minutes every hour and fifteen minutes for lunch. It took them thirteen hours to reach their first night camp. They followed a secondary stream a short distance eastward into a steep secluded valley where it was safe to make a small fire. Everyone was tired but in good spirits. They’d traveled twenty four miles. No one complained about the pace or their loads as they all knew Brose was up near the front with her two hundred twenty pound pack. The unit was divided into four groups of two soldiers and two emerged. Each group took a two hour watch during the night. No one had any trouble sleeping.

In the morning they enjoyed a hot breakfast. It would be their last hot meal until the mission was over. After breaking camp, they continued up the side valley. After about a half mile they took a smaller northern valley heading up. Over the next three hours they traveled three miles climbing up two thousand six hundred feet out of the valley to a mountain ridge. Here they paused and cautiously peered over the ridge. Four and half miles to the northeast was La Cruz. They’d slogged their way nearly across the rugged park coming at La Cruz from the back.

La Cruz was accessed through the IMNA off BNR 7 that ran around the east and northern sides of Amboro. The dirt tracks through the farms, estates, and plantations of the German expatriate Bolivians provided fairly easy access. Where the roads ended, gravel strewn stream beds provided safe and relatively hidden access into the mountains.

From their vantage point, nothing but trees could be seen across a valley five miles long and three miles wide that ended abruptly in steep hills with a narrow canyon pass. The far side of the canyon was quite rugged, soaring up a thousand feet on a slope that at best was at a forty five degree slope. The near side of the canyon was La Cruz. It too soared up a thousand feet but on an average slope of about twenty five degrees. They peered through binoculars and set up electronic scanners to examine La Cruz as well as access the spy satellite for real time views.

Fifteen minutes after starting the scan, Cpl. Michael, the Ranger Pathfinder led a scouting unit consisting of Cpl. Hills, the Mountain Warfare Specialist, along with three of the quads, Emo, the empath and Pfc. Molina with Sgt. Hoyle in command. They headed north on the back side of the ridge a further three miles. The selected site, at four thousand one hundred and fifty feet, was atop the highest point on the ridge that formed the backbone of La Cruz but was almost two miles back from the area designated as La Cruz which topped out at three thousand feet. Sunny stayed with the main group and communicated with his siblings. When they reached their comm range, which was greater in the thinner nearly mile high air than their normal ground level range, one quad and a soldier stopped while the others continued. In this way they were able to relay from the forward position back to the main unit without breaking radio silence.

When Michael, Hills, Emo and Snow reached the forward position, they swept the area to make sure it was clear before they set up to began a visual scan. After two hours of scanning the area from their original vantage point, nothing out of the ordinary was seen. The main unit packed up and moved to the forward OP. The position was ideal as it was atop a knob so anyone approaching from any direction had to climb up at least five hundred feet and the nearest higher ground was a half mile behind them. Just behind the top of the knob, they set up their forward camp. As soon as the main unit arrived and relieved them, the scouting unit set out to search the higher ground behind them to make sure it was clear. While Sgt. High set up the electronics,
Sgt. Lincoln, a Special Forces Engineer, set up a defensive perimeter with claymores.

Brose and Pfc. Patterson, the small weapons expert, began to make their way down the ridge towards La Cruz. They stayed on the ridge top under the trees as they slowly made their way downhill. A mile and two hundred fifty feet downslope, a smaller knob rose seventy five feet from the slope. Brose could sense no emotions as they cautiously made their way up the slope.

Near the top they saw cables strung through the trees. Approaching silently, they discovered a path beneath the cables. In the trees were several antennae and small satellite bowls. The cables from the equipment entered a small shack, no more than five feet square with a single padlocked door nestled against the trunk of a large tree. A thick conduit ran from the building downhill alongside the continuing path. Brose and Patterson knew they’d hit paydirt. Cautiously they followed the path downhill. The path followed the gentlest slope northeast from the small knob headed down toward the canyon floor.

A half mile down the path, a drop of two hundred fifty feet, they heard the faint sounds of someone talking... in German. Brose smiled as they were talking about going clubbing in Santa Cruz when their duty tour was over. Slipping off to the east side of the path, they silently made their way down. About two hundred feet onward, they saw two men in what looked like SS uniforms casually standing beside a camouflaged concrete pillbox guarding a turn in the path they’d been following. The pillbox looked out into the canyon below La Cruz, the gun slit aligned towards the east where the stream exited the narrow pass into the foothills below. Cautiously the duo made their way east around La Cruz.

They saw two more pill boxes each five hundred feet apart pointed to the canyon exit. Then the angle of the slope increased. Since it was getting late and rather than risk slipping, they headed back the way they’d come.

Brose led Patterson back silently until they stepped into their camp. They’d slipped past the guards and sensors. Msg. McNeil wasn’t pleased. Brose led him back to show him where they’d slipped through the coverage. The scout unit had found nothing so they had nothing to fear from the back. On their maps Brose located the pillboxes they’d discovered as well as the antennae.

Brose led a small group back to the antennae as the sun set. Brose had no problem picking the padlock on the shack. Sgt. High entered and after a brief examination, dug into his kit and tapped into the cables, snaking a small cable under the wall and up into the tree where he aimed and mounted a small satellite dish to beam out the info gathered. While he worked, others used infrared scanners to pinpoint five bunkers hidden on the opposite side of the valley, also facing the canyon exit.

All the pill boxes and bunkers were built into the mountain sides and covered with rocks, dirt, and plants to shield their heat signature from overhead scanning. It was why the spy satellites had not pinpointed the location. Using the locations the Butt Kickers satellite relayed back to The Center, the intel people were able to identify the here to fore disregarded faint heat discrepancies as what they were. They used the info to find six more bunker sites. Three were close together on the steep eastern slope of La Cruz at the narrowest point of the canyon. The info was relayed back to the Butt Kickers.

The next morning, day three of the mission, Msg. McNeil and Sgt. Lincoln made bombs with remote detonators that would hidden at each bunker and pillbox that night. Each was more than powerful enough to destroy the positions.

Shadow and Windy practiced creating cloud-like shadows and brisk wind to simulate a rustling breeze through the trees and cloud-like darkness. These would be used to mask the efforts of McNeil and Lincoln as they planted the explosives. Emo and Tricia would accompany them along with Cpl. Michael and Pfc. Patterson. Emo could project relaxation to the guards, and if needed panic while the others could strike silently.

Brose and the McGuires headed down into the broad valley south of La Cruz until they reached the stream. Then they followed it into the canyon carefully staying in the shadows and underbrush. By mid-day they were close enough to see the camouflaged entrance of the neo-Nazi base. They were amazed by the steady stream of people and small vehicles moving up and down the canyon to and from the clandestine base. They also spotted about a dozen unmanned fighting positions that could be used to defend the base entrance from upstream or down. Thankfully the neo-Nazis were so cocky the base was safe they hadn’t prepared an emergency exit. Atop the stone encrusted concrete entrance were four intake fans four feet in diameter to ventilate the complex.

Fortunately McNeil made extra bombs and would be able to spike the fighting positions. The quickest route had been calculated to enable the bomb unit to plant all the explosives before sunrise.

The nighttime guards were lackadaisical at best. Shadow, Emo, and Windy had no problems distracting the men while the explosives were planted and concealed right under their noses. The detail returned an hour before sunrise.

The morning of day Three was spent relaxing. They would attack at 0100 that night. They repacked all their remaining equipment and headed out into the broad valley at 1500 hours following the route Brose had mapped the previous day. Brose led the way with her entire kit. They settled down to rest and nap at 1900 hours, only five hundred feet away from the entrance.

Handing off the M107 sniper rifle and M26 shotgun, Brose. Tricia, Michael, and Patterson headed out at 2400 hours to access the ventilation system. McNeil led the rest into the fighting positions opposite the entrance where they hid Brose’s M107 and M26 plus their other temporarily unneeded equipment. Cpl. Habaz, Sgt. Lincoln, Pfc. Loose and Sgt. High would stay there providing covering fire while the rest attacked. Lincoln would have the detonators for the pillboxes and bunkers, each could be blown individually or as groups. At 2420 hours Michael stepped out of the darkness to grab one of the guards, almost instantly cutting his throat. With a silencer on a P226, Brose took out the second guard by the ventilation system as he went to investigate where his comrade had gone. Standing by the door into the ventilation control room, Brose detected two operators inside. After signaling she was going in, Brose stepped inside and plugged both in the head before they could even turn their heads.

After a quick scan of the control panel, which was labeled in German she easily understood, Bose closed all vents inside the complex except those into the dormitories, computer room, and command centers. It was 2430 hours when inside the duct work she created Xenon gas which the fans blew into those areas putting everyone into a deep sleep for the next two hours. While she waited she took photos of the ventilation diagram of the base. It showed all levels, areas, and rooms. Brose sent the photos out to High who relayed them to The Center for quick translation of the labels. At 2435 hours Brose closed the vents to the dorm and command areas and opened the others to keep fresh air circulating inside the base. At 2445 hours she opened the vents in the dormitories and command center to vent the Xenon to make it safe for the Butt Kickers to enter. While she was doing this, Michael and Patterson were rigging the doors and control equipment with explosives. If anyone entered the control room once they’d exited, it would all blow. At 2450 hours High received the base diagrams Brose had photoed with English translations below the German. A minute later the diagrams were on everyone’s comm.

By 2450 hours the main assault group were within a few steps of the base entrance. At 0100 hours, Msg. McNeil signaled Snow. Boosted by her siblings, she sent a blast of minus one hundred degree C air into the entrance. The air passages and lungs of the guards froze, instantly killing them. After waiting a minute for the chill to dissipate, the rest charged in the door past the dead flash frozen SS guards.

Brose and her squad entered the door into the facility from the ventilation room into the service corridors. Brose led her squad to the Command Center. Peering in through the windows, she could see the skeleton crew passed out. As they were all adults, they didn’t have to worry about any emerged. Within moments the command center was secured and the unconscious crew disarmed and restrained.

Msg. McNeil made it to the motor pool before they ran into anyone. The startled workers were easily overcome, except for two who managed to duck out a side door. A loud claxon began sounding within moments.

Back in the command center, lights went on all over the comm boards as various staff called in for instructions. Brose located the alarm and shut it down, but the warning had gone out. Brose stepped to the communication console and flipped the switch labeled for base wide communication. Speaking into the microphone she said “Achtung! Abweg falsch. Achtung! Abweg falsch.” (Attention! False Alarm.)

The comm lines from the bunkers lit up. Apparently they wanted clarification. A red telephone in a side office began ringing. “Extreme prejudice,” Brose calmly spoke into her comm unit. “Blow the bunkers, be prepared for counter-attack.”

The Butt Kickers understood they had been discovered. Sgt. Lincoln tapped a few buttons linking all the bunkers to one switch, then flipped that switch. Inside the base they felt the rumble of the simultaneous multiple explosions. Cpl. Habaz and Sgt. Lincoln then rolled an anti-aircraft gun from it’s concealment to defend against a possible helicopter assault as High headed inside the base to link with the others to pillage the computer room.

Brose led her squad to link up with the main unit. Cpl. Michael and Molina took up defensive positions inside the base entrance.

Hills, Hoyle, Windy and Blaze made a bee-line for the dorms. Inside each they checked the unconscious occupants for possible emerged. As they left each room, Blaze ‘welded’ the hinges and locks of the steel doors to their steel frames in the concrete walls.

Sgt. High and River headed to the computer center. River trussed the unconscious techs as High set about breaking into the system and relaying everything he could access to the antennae on the top of the mountain, knowing the relay satellite dish he’d installed would send the data back to The Center.

Msg. McNeil and Patterson headed for the munitions storage. Their mission was to secure and if necessary destroy everything inside.

Brose led Tricia, Sunny, Shadow, Snow, Giana, and Emo into the labs and adjoining prison area. At once she sensed fear ahead of her from four people. Brose signaled the others to stay back as she peeked about a corner. The heavily armed guards outside the locked entrance to the restricted area opened fire as soon as Brose peered around the last corner. Bullets slammed into the concrete walls and tore chunks off the corner of the wall. Brose had ducked back before the fusillade hit. Brose nodded to Sunny. Everyone shielded their eyes as she sent a blinding flash into the hall. The guards screamed as the flash burned their eyes. Brose leapt across the hall landing on the floor with her Desert Eagle firing. The four shots echoed in the enclosed space followed quickly by the sound of crumbling bodies thudding to the floor.

Sensing more guards behind the locked door, Brose was up and running to the entrance before the last body settled to the floor. She jammed the big .50 cal barrel through a firing slot in the steel door and cooly killed the three shocked guards on the other side. She had sensed their location and aimed accordingly. “Clear,” she yelled as she replaced the clip.

The others rounded the corner and headed to Brose. The exploded skulls of the four guards was not a pleasant sight. Brose pointed to an electronic door access box. Tricia fried it. Brose pushed against the door but it wouldn’t budge. Snow hit the latch with a boosted concentrated minus one hundred degree F blast. Giana immediately hammered it with her geokinetic energy. The door opened as the lock and the door about it cracked and crumbled. Brose was through instantly. Four armed lab workers hiding behind lab counters opened fire. Brose hit the floor and fired the Desert Eagle. The four died as the slugs she fired through cabinets unerringly hit their targets.

The rest of her team cautiously followed her, their eyes wide in amazement as they saw the three dead interior guards lying inside the door. They pushed on through the labs. Between Emo and Brose, the seven people hiding inside were easily located. All were armed and not one seemed to want to surrender. The others were glad Brose had no problem eliminating them.

With the labs cleared, they moved onto the adjacent prison area. Fear and anguish assaulted Brose and Emo as soon as they entered. Emo was staggered by the raw primal emotions. Brose had him stay back as she scanned each cell. In the first she found several disfigured people, clearly victims of Nazi experiments. They were chained to steel bunks and cowered when the door opened. Brose signaled Emo to come forward to calm them. Giana found the keys to their chains and released them. Shadow and Sunny ushered them into the labs. When they saw the dead lab workers, they understood they were being rescued.

Most of the other cells rooms held similar human experiments. As the rest of the team helped the prisoners to the labs, Brose rounded the last corner. As soon as she stepped around it, shots rang out. This time she’d been caught off guard. The fear and emotion of the released prisoners had shielded the anxiety of the two guards. The slugs from the assault rifles slammed her into the far wall even as her lightening reflexes returned fire. Ever accurate, the .50 cal slugs slammed the two guards into the wall by another steel door. Both sat slumped on the floor with half inch holes where there noses had been. Their brains dripped from the walls in gory runnels leading from where their exploded skulls had hit the wall and then slid down with their corpses.

Brose gasped for breath as the impact had knocked the wind out of her. Looking down at her Kevlar vest there were seven impacts. No wonder she hurt! A slight burning in her left leg began to make it through her adrenalin high. Checking it out she saw a round hole in the thigh of her cargo pants and a trail of blood flowing down her leg. Checking the back of her leg she realized it wasn’t a through shot. As she tested her leg for weight bearing she felt a pain but no weakness. Cursing herself for her carelessness, she tore open a first aid packet and stuffed gauze into the wound to stop the flow of blood. Then she proceeded to get back to the mission.

As she stood up and approached the last door she wondered if they made Kevlar cargo pants. The door was not locked, but as soon as she opened it, a fireball flew down a flight of steps that were not on the base diagram. There was supposed to be another cell behind the door. Fortunately Brose was able to slam the door closed. The paint blistered off the outside. They’d encountered emerged.

Meanwhile,. McNeil had located the munitions bunker. The guards outside the entrance opened fire. McNeil and Patterson ducked away in time. With a 40mm grenade launcher attached under the barrel of his M4A1, McNeil popped it around the corner and fired. The back blast knocked them to the ground. Reloading, McNeil eased around to see the shattered bodies of the guards. There was a heavy steel vault door at the end of the hall. There was also a smaller personnel door about twenty feet down the hall in a side wall from the big door. Patterson threw a smoke grenade down to the vault door. As soon as it went off, McNeil sprinted down the hall, doing a baseball slide to stop ten feet before the vault door.

Grabbing the bodies of the guards, he dragged them down the hall to a position opposite the personnel door. Hastily he stacked them together by the wall opposite the door, leaving just enough room for him to lie behind them. Sticking the barrel of the grenade launcher between the bodies, he aimed it at the door. After flattening himself behind the bodies, he pulled the trigger.

The blast rolled the bodies on top of him and the noise almost deafened him. Shrapnel pocked the wall above and around him. He had felt shrapnel impacting the bodies he’d used to shield himself.

Patterson had been lying down when the blast occurred. Even before the reverberating sound died he was up and charging the door. Blown off it’s it’s hinges, he paused only long enough to toss a frag grenade inside the room aiming it towards the vaulted door. As soon as it exploded, he was through the door and ran out into the room behind the vault door. As he did so, he dropped to the floor and rolled to face the big door, firing his M4A1 to cut down the three stunned guards.

McNeil recovered enough to join him a moment later although his ears would be ringing for hours. There was no one else inside the massive area. They discovered armories full of weapons and vaults filled floor to ceiling with ammunition and explosives. McNeil and Patterson hid bombs inside the munitions rooms. If they went off, the mountain would go with it.

One thing that puzzled McNeil was the small armored vehicle with what looked like a remotely operated water cannon in a turret on top. He’d seen riot control water cannon vehicles before, but never one that had a refrigeration system built around the pump. It was only when he saw the fire HAZARD warning labels his suspicions were aroused. Checking the base diagrams, he found a huge diesel storage tank. At first he’d assumed the diesel fuel was to operate generators, but as he examined the fuel dispersal lines, he realized most ran out through the entrance and up and down the stream with stand pipes spaced regularly. The vehicle was a wheeled diesel fuel flame thrower! The on-board two hundred gallon fuel tank powered the engine and the flame thrower. Obviously it was to be used to burn off foliage. The foliage not only hid the base, it could hide attackers allowing them to get close enough to do serious damage. The US Marines had developed a flame throwing tank in the 1950s with a range of two hundred eighty yards. This baby could probably exceed that. By driving in the stream bed, they could probably burn off everything within a thousand feet of the stream, denuding the narrow canyon and inhibiting attack. The armored vehicle would simply hook up to the stand pipes and fire jets of diesel fuel. McNeil sent Patterson out to relieve Loose in the outside position. Loose could handle driving the flame thrower out of the base.

High had successfully broken into the computers. There was an outside control link he quickly disabled. But he had learned the intrusion alarm had been sounded and relief was being dispatched. He passed the word as River stood guard. The data continued to flow unchecked to the antennae.

Hills, Hoyle, Windy and Blaze had sealed the dormitories. Even when the soldiers and workers inside awoke, they couldn’t get out. They headed back to the labs and prison area to assist in taking out the emerged Brose had encountered. Hoyle guarded the entrance to the lab/prison area. Hills watched the freed prisoners.

McNeil guided Loose as they drove the flame thrower into the stream. Together, they headed up stream, locating and removing the caps from the stand pipes. Any chopper assault would probably land in the broad valley.

High was watching the satellite coverage. At 0125 hours he spotted a half dozen choppers lift off from the nearest AZIF base and head their way.

Brose reviewed the ventilation diagrams trying to find the vents to the hidden area behind the prison. She had others searching for access panels that might feed the area. The strength of the fire blast indicated a first level pyrokinetic. Judging by the brief glimpse she had of the stairs and speed of the attack, she guessed the steps went up about thirty feet.

Then she felt a mental probe. Brose promptly blocked it. "Get back to the labs," Brose called out. "I just felt a mental probe. Fall back out of range. MOVE!"

Everyone scrambled back to the labs.

Brose stayed in the hall just inside the prison looking down the hall to the corner that led to the secret area. She wanted to make sure no one tried to attack them. She knew she could at least temporarily fend off an attack while the others might not be able to do so. Brose remembered their had been an unoccupied room off to the back of the labs that held a bank of monitors. "Windy, Shadow, in the back of the labs was a room with monitors. See if you can access it. They might have remote cameras in the hidden area we can access. Emo, Hills, take the released prisoners down to Molina."

"Molina, Emo and Hills are bringing down the prisoners we freed," Brose keyed her comm. "We need to get them out of here before we're counter-attacked. Hills will take your place while you and Emo take them down stream about a mile and send them up the side creek that comes in from the north. Tell them to go up at least two hundred meters and stay put. Inform them that those who captured them will be coming up the main stream to attack us. Make sure they understand there will be fighting and they need to stay quiet. Government forces will come for them sometime after noon. Get back as soon as you can. If they hit us before you make it back, stay off the comm and use your initiative. High, what's the ETA on the choppers?"

“It looks like they're heading for the upstream valley," High replied. "ETA at 0150 hours."

"Habaz, use that AA gun to try to shoot down the choppers as they come in," Brose ordered. "McNeil, can you shoot the diesel fuel out of the flame thrower without igniting it?"

"Yeah," McNeil answered as he wondered what she was planning.

"Go upstream as far as the hook-ups allow," Brose said. "Soak everything on both sides of the stream and work your way back down. Do your best to keep the coverage connected. If we can wait until their troops enter the area, we can fry them. If not, the fire will hold them back for a while. Do the same thing down stream."

"Roger that," McNeil chuckled.

"Brose, we have video and audio feed from the mystery area," Windy reported. "Looks like about a half dozen emerged. They're speaking German. One is looking through a partially opened door and it appears as if he's looking down a flight of steps."

"Sunny, Blaze, take over here," Brose said. "I want to see what we're up against."

A few moments later, Brose was checking out the various feeds. There appeared to be ten rooms with heavy steel doors that looked like water tight doors on a ship. Inside four of them were emerged, obviously abused. Brose listened in as the six in a common area outside the cells discussed their options. The one watching the door was a male pyro. Another was an electro as she nervously sent sparks back and forth between her fingertips. By their talk she figured out there was a male dominator and three females, a ghost, an empath, and a damper.

*****