Brose at The Center

by Jennifer Sue

Part 9

Upon landing, the Butt Kickers immediately grabbed their chutes and rucksacks and scrambled into the trees on the west side of the peak. After stripping out of their jumps suits and bundling them in their chutes, they split up their kits. In the center of a vegetation free area near the peak a super hot high intensity incendiary device was placed with a timed detonator set to go off in forty hours. All the unneeded gear was placed on a pile centered above the incendiary with the now empty ruck sacks layered over the top to provide a reasonably water resistant covering. The ruck sacks were weighed down by stones so the wind wouldn’t undo the heap. The entire pile should burst into flame sometime around four in the afternoon the day they leave the area. By 2400 hours they stealthily headed down the rugged tree filled mountain slope. Pfc. Melendez, a mountain warfare specialist, led the way with Msg. McNeil right behind. They strung guide ropes to help the others descend the thirty degree slope. Cpl. Hills, also a mountain warfare specialist, brought up the rear and undid the ropes for later reuse. The first portion of the arduous nighttime hike was slow. During the next hour they traveled down slope five hundred thirty meters descending one hundred eighty meters in altitude. After a fifteen minute rest, they set out again. This portion was relatively easy, a downslope distance of two hundred meters with an altitude drop of only twenty meters which only took fifteen minutes. The next portion was once more steep and rugged, a downslope distance of six hundred twenty five meters with and altitude drop of one hundred eighty meters. This descent took until 0245 hours. After another fifteen minute rest, they trekked another five hundred meters cross slope only dropping twenty meters in altitude. At that point they were directly above the Nazi/Cartel camp. While most of the unit set up an overnight camp on a relatively flat area just out of the uphill line of site of the enemy camp, Brose led a recon mission down to the camp.

Cpl. Michael, Pfc. Molina, Pfc. Stamos, Pfc. Hernandez, Pfc. Melendez and Pfc. Smith were the regular soldiers who accompanied Brose, Emo, Casper, Damalis, and Dom on the scouting mission. The final downslope descent of five hundred thirty meters descending one hundred eighty meters in altitude. They left the ropes in place to ease their accent and for tomorrow’s assault decent. Without the burden of their gear, it was 0415 hours until they were safely down. Utilizing the information gathered by infrared satellite scans the team spread out and quickly located four guard posts and a dozen Mexican guards walking a guard perimeter about the base before regrouping.

With the soldiers keeping watch, Emo, Damalis, and Dom took up position behind Brose, ready to use their abilities as Casper ghosted in to peer inside each guard post. There were three guard posts on the west side of the camp and one on the east side with two guards in each. They discovered each guard post was monitored by a camera. All four posts would have to be taken out at the same time due to video surveillance of the guards. Obviously the ever paranoid Nazi leaders didn’t trust their own men to stay awake and alert. Next they slipped inside the camp to locate the four bunk cabins and a large building that served as the mess hall with attached kitchen. The four cabins were in the northern half of the base. The kitchen was dead center. In the southern half of the base were three bunkers connected by sand bagged fighting trenches to form a formidable triangle. Away from the bunkers and down on the southern end of the base was a small building that housed an electrical generator. Three SUVs and four beat up pick-up trucks were parked inside the tree line on the northwest side of the camp, high enough to avoid being damaged by any rain induced floods. It was 0530 hours when they returned to the base of the mountain, just as the night sky began to lighten. It took another hour and a quarter to silently make the hazardous accent back to their base to rejoin the rest of the Butt Kickers. While they were ascending two vehicles trundled up the track, bringing Mexican cam staff to prepare the day’s meals.

With guards posted and watches assigned, the unit settled down to sleep and relax. About 1500 hours the sky began to cloud over. Rain started dripping at 1700 hours as the Mexican cartel guards and staff boarded two SUVs and four trucks and scuttled down the track on their way to San Ignacio for the celebration. By 1900 hours, it was dark and pouring. The Butt Kickers hunkered down in their ponchos as Brose and Msg. McNeil reviewed their plan. The Santiago was quickly filling it’s banks. They were glad they didn’t have to cross the now raging stream. The techies back at The Center were able to access the satellites for a weather forecast. The weather system was moving east and by 2300 hours, when the party began in San Ignacio, the storm would be past the town. It looked like the back edge would reach them about midnight, but it would be at least 0200 hours until it passed out of the mountains that fed the now swirling stream. Hopefully by daylight the stream would be manageable for the use of the rafts.

At 2400 hours, with the rain beginning to taper off, the Butt Kickers gathered by the descent route. Everyone was nervous as the rain had made everything quite slippery. Burdened with their gear, if one of them slipped, the results could be tragic. While there were a few slips, no one lost their footing. The guide rope did it’s job. Upon reaching the bottom they moved to the north-west end of what had become a mini peninsula surrounded by at least seventy five feet of raging water. In the trees but within sight of the now muddy rutted track that led into the base, they set up their new base of operations.

It had taken them an hour and a half to descend. Putin set up their comm gear and linked to a satellite as the others dropped their excess gear and the inflatable rafts. Sgt. Dunham, Putin, Bones and River were squad one and were assigned to stay where they had set up to guard the soggy and most likely impassable roadway.

By 0145 hours the leaves of the trees were rustling in a steady breeze causing the water clinging to their surface to drip steadily. The incessant dripping could hardly be heard as the roar of the surging waters swept around the base, drowning most noise. Brose, Cpl Michael, Pfc. Stamos and Pfc. Smith were the best in the unit at moving stealthily. They were spread between squads two, three, four, and five. The four squads would simultaneously take out the guard posts. Each squad also had one of the Clover Quads. Their constant silent communication would allow the four squads to strike as one. With their crewing, each squad had an excellent chance to slip up to their assigned guard post without being detected. Squad two, led by Sgt. High with Shadow, Damalis and Pfc. Stamos was followed by squad eight led by Msg. McNeil, Tricia, Casper and Pfc. Melendez. They crossed the peninsula and headed down the east side of the of the camp. When they neared the lone guard post, squad two took up defensive positions while squad eight circled around as they continued south heading for the electrical generator. Squad three, led by Cpl. Michael with Blaze, Windy and Pfc. Patterson headed for the northern most of the west side guard posts. Squad four, led by Brose, with Sgt. Hoyle, Sunny and Pfc. Hernandez headed to the center western guard post; and Squad five lead by Cpl. Hills with Snow, Dom and Pfc. Smith headed for the southern most guard post on the west side of the camp.

As each squad took up it’s position at it’s designated target, they signaled Putin. It was 0200 hours until they were all ready. Msg. McNeil began the operation by having Tricia short out the generator. Tricia first pulled about ninety percent of the voltage from the relay box. This caused the lights around the camp to dim. She let the power flow then cut into it again. The lights around the camp flickered and came back to life several times in the next minute before finally shutting down completely.

The guards were a bit spooked and took up positions outside their sheltered posts to see if anything untoward was happening. Since they had been holed up in their illuminated guard posts their eyes were not accustomed to the sudden pitch blackness under the trees below a cloud covered sky. Once all eight guards had stepped outside, the Clover Quads shared the knowledge. Each squad moved to take out the guards. It took less than thirty seconds to cut their throats. As soon as the guards were down the quads let Brose know. Brose broke their radio silence to signal the other squads to move to their assault positions.

Squad six, led by Sgt. Lincoln with Giana and Pfc. Molina and squad seven, led by Cpl. Habaz with Emo, and Pfc. Loose moved to surround the largest cabin. Squad two headed for the mess hall. Squads three, four and five each moved to take up positions at one of the remaining cabins. Squad eight moved north from the generator to cover the bunkers. Before they were able to get into position, Squad eight signaled they saw two people emerge from one of the bunkers. They climbed a ladder out of the trench and headed south apparently to check out the generator. They did not appear to be in a hurry and seemed unaware they were under attack. Msg. McNeil had the squad step off the path to hide behind trees and signaled Tricia to zap the duo.

When the two men were about ten feet away, Tricia let loose what she thought was merely a knock-out jolt. Even as it left her body she realized the power she had drained from the generator had supercharged her. Instead of a knock out jolt, a blinding ball of lightening engulfed the men and instantly fried both to a crisp. The sound of a mighty thunderbolt split the air deafening the members of squad eight and waking all the sleeping Nazis. The familiar smell of lightening generated ozone filled the air and spread throughout the base as the resounding echos of the tremendous burst of power thundered back and forth between the rugged mountains/

As the jolted awake Nazis became aware of what was going, most assumed there had been a lightening strike that had knocked out the power. Most rolled over and tried to get back to sleep in the god-forsaken humidity. A few decided to get some fresh air. Squads six and seven were the only units in position around their objective. They quickly took cover and let the rest of the Butt Kickers know the crash had awaken some of the enemy and a few had stepped outside. Most of the Nazis simply stood around the entrance and lit up cigarettes. A few stepped to the side of the building to take a whiz.

Squads two, three, four and five slowed their approach to their objectives assuming some of the occupants of their targets were doing the same as the men Squads six and seven were watching. All the caution was for naught as one of the Nazis tripped over Sgt. Lincoln. The startled man cried out as he stumbled. Sgt. Lincoln had been ready and the man was dead before he fell to the ground. Unfortunately other Nazis saw the brief action and called out a warning. Squads six and seven cut loose with their M4A1s. None of the Nazis outside their building made it back inside.

Even though the Nazis were caught flat footed, that didn’t mean they weren’t able to fight. In true Nazi paranoia, they all slept with weapons. As soon as the gunfire echoed through the base, the Nazis rushed for their weapons. Those inside the target cabin of Squads six and seven promptly responded with gunfire blindly firing into the darkness, thankfully above the heads of the Butt Kickers who were still behind cover close to the ground.

Squads three and five were near enough to their target cabins so they to were able to cut down the stragglers of those who had exited before they could return inside to get their weapons. Within moments both cabins were pouring fire into the trees. The Nazis were not organized and had no idea who or where their enemy was so they just fired. Quite a few of their shots came close to their attackers but none were on target. The Butt Kickers methodically returned deadly accurate fire as the muzzle flashes barked from the windows of the buildings. Fortunately, the flimsy construction and thin walls provided little cover to the Nazis. The firing of the Butt Kickers poked through the walls with ease cutting down those Nazis stupid enough to take cover behind them.

The three bunkers were another matter. Fortunately they were not pill boxes designed to fire at attackers, but they were sealed up enough to prevent entry. However, men did begin to pour out of one bunker. Squad eight had sprinted to their objective in time to pin the Nazis in the trenches. The fire from the Nazis in the trenches was accurate but hasty. The sandbags provided them with adequate cover. Neither side could maneuver to get an advantage over the other. While the quick bursts both side were able to fire hit no one, they did effectively keep both sides pinned down.

The cabin being assaulted by squad three kept the Nazis inside but the trapped soldiers quickly realized their vulnerability and used foot lockers and beds to stop the bullets passing through the flimsy walls from hitting them. While their return fire from the windows was sporadic, it was enough to keep the Butt Kickers down. After a few minutes of exchanging fire, Cpl. Michael ordered Blaze to torch the building. With bullets zipping near him, Blaze didn’t need to be told twice. One massive fireball burst inside the cabin. Flames erupted from the windows and the men inside screamed, but only briefly as they painfully died quickly as their lungs were seared.

The cabin being assaulted by squad five was not as organized as the Nazis from the cabin assaulted by Squad three, but several survived and returned fire. When Blaze lit up the cabin he was attacking, Cpl. Hills didn’t hesitate to order Snow to attack their objective. Like Blaze, Snow was surprised by the violent defense. She didn’t hesitate to send a mighty blast of minus one hundred degrees Fahrenheit cold into the building. Most of the surviving Nazis inside died instantly as their lungs froze. The remainder managed to get their faces to the windows and avoided breathing in the ice crystal laden air. They didn’t avoid the bone chilling cold. Those who could tried to dive out the windows were cut down by the butt kickers. The rest hid inside and froze to death within a minute.

Squad four was still about a hundred feet from their target cabin when the lightening flash and thunder hit. Like the other cabins, a few Nazis had exited to smoke, but had time to rush inside, grab their weapons and come tumbling outside. Due to the trees, most were able to avoid the fire from the still advancing Squad four. The surviving Nazis took cover and began to return fire, pinning the Butt Kickers behind other trees. Just as at the bunker complex, both sides kept the other pinned down. Neither side could get a bead on their adversaries before they had to duck. Unfortunately for the Nazis, this was the Squad Brose led. While the rest of the squad kept up enough fire to keep the Nazis behind cover, Brose pulled her Desert Eagle. Using her senses she was easily able to pinpoint the emergence of a Nazi from his cover as he tried to fire at the Butt Kickers. Brose fired just before the Nazi head appeared so the hard headed fanatics had their skulls pulverized the split second they emerged. The repeated deadly report of the big .50 caliber weapon let everyone know there was one less Nazi.

At the main cabin, a sturdier building, the Nazis were fighting back. Neither side could get an accurate burst off. When he saw the one cabin burst into flame, Sgt. Lincoln ordered Giana to knock the building down. Giana concentrated her earth quake inducing powers to create a localized 8.0 earthquake under the cabin. The cabin crumbled into a heap. Squad three with Blaze rushed over and soon the demolished building was ablaze. Only a few screams were heard.

Squad two was the only one who managed to easily take their objective. The mess hall was unmanned. At that point they manned the doors and waited as the firing slowly died down.

At the bunkers, the Nazis in the trenches could hear the firing from the cabins and they waited for their main forces to eliminate the stupid cartel fighters who dared to attack them! But as the minutes passed the firing wound down and they could see the cabins fiercely burning. They also heard the angry barking of the .50 cal. They had only heard that ominous sound once before... from the communications they had monitored when Brose took out the last AZIF mission. Slowly it dawned on them they were not facing the Mexicans.

“Weindt, Breiner,” the gruff voiced commander barked to his two emerged. “What can you detect?”

“Fear from our few remaining men,” Breiner whispered. “But they are being wiped out. Every time that big guns fires, one of our men dies.”

“It’s The Cat,” Weindt gasped. “I can pick the satisfied thoughts of those with her.”

Squad five swung around to assist squad four in keeping the Nazis from falling back to the bunkers as Brose continued to methodically take them out. None surrendered or survived. By 0220 hours the firing ceased. The only remaining Nazis were in the trenches and bunkers. One was the headquarters, one was the weapons/ammo store, and the third was housing for the officers and emerged.

After making sure there were no survivors from the four cabins, the Butt Kickers moved to surround the bunker complex. Squads six and seven covered the ammo bunker and the nearest half of the trenches connecting it to the other bunkers. Squads three and five did the same at the officers’ bunker. Squads eight and four, minus Brose, took the Headquarters bunker. Brose moved from bunker to bunker seeking to detect how many Nazis were left. The headquarters had one man inside and two cowering in the trenches facing the other bunkers. The ammo bunker had two men inside. There were ten officers and two emerged hunkered down in the trenches beside the last bunker. All the surviving Nazis were quite shook up and the man in the Headquarters bunker was trying to communicate with anyone. Putin’s equipment quickly detected the radio signals and jammed them. The only communication the Nazis had was telephones between the bunkers and buildings.

Squad two found an operating phone in the mess hall. At 0225 hours Brose called out in clear German. “You do not stand a chance. Everyone else is dead. Save yourselves and surrender. Otherwise we will kill you.”

“The soldiers of the Fourth Reich will never surrender,” the gruff voiced commander replied. “We will not be taken easily and we will make you pay dearly!”

“The Fourth Reich,” Brose chuckled. “Your precious Fourth Reich never got off the ground. We took out your main base in Bolivia and now we’re here to take you out. MMRROWWLLL!”

“My God, we’re dead,” one of the men by the headquarters cried out. “It IS The Cat!”

“Silence fool,” the gruff voiced commander ordered. “They are just trying to scare us! There is no CAT! No man can be that deadly and certainly no mere girl!”

“But I’m no mere girl,” Brose chuckled. “I am an emerged. I was a marksman and hunter before I transformed. Now I’m even better. It only took twenty of us in Bolivia to take out your precious base. Save yourself the agony and surrender.”

“NEVER,” the gruff man declared. “Heinrich, you know your orders.”

“But Herr Oberst...” Heinrich began clearly appalled.

“HEINRICH!” the gruff voiced Oberst bluntly countered cutting off the man’s frantic protest.

"Y... ya.. Yawohl Oberst Schroder," the clearly terrified man whispered.

“The fear level in the ammo bunker just went up so much it almost blanked me,” Emo gasped into his comm.

“They’re going to blow the ammo dump,” Brose responded as she had felt the fear surge from all the Nazis. “RUN!”

Alerted by Emo's warning, none of the Butt Kickers hesitated as they scrambled away from the bunkers. Fifteen seconds later, the ground shook as an ear shattering blast erupted from what had been the ammo bunker. Trees, rocks, dirt and pieces of shattered concrete flew into the air. Fortunately, the main force of the blast went up. The fleeing Butt Kickers were knocked down by the concussion and pelted with the debris as it rained down. All were physically stunned, disoriented and their ears were ringing. Only squads one and two escaped unscathed. The angst Emo had felt in the two men from the ammo bunker had given everyone enough time to get out of the kill zone.

Thanks to her powerful constitution, Brose recovered in seconds and stood looking about her. It tore her heart out to see her team tossed about like matchsticks. A quick emotion scan told her everyone was still alive and at least semi conscious.

Anger flooded her as she stalked to the remaining bunkers. Leaping across the trench to the land island inside the un-excavated area inside the surrounding trenches she looked into the shattered entrance of the headquarters bunker. The two men who had been in the trenches had fled inside to escape the blast but not fast enough to shut the door. Feeling the dazed emotions of the three men inside, she simply pointed the Desert Eagle at each and fired as fast as she could pull the trigger. With each shot the emotions abruptly vanished.

Crossing over to the officer’s bunker she noted there was no one in the trenches. Probing into the shattered entrance of the bunker she sensed that they too were alive but too dazed and disoriented to react. The ‘BRAVE’ Nazis, including Oberst Schroder, had sought cover inside the bunker instead of remaining in the trenches to take the blast. She was ready to dose them with cyanide but stopped just as she was preparing the lethal dose as she reined in her anger. Instead she sucked all the oxygen from the ruined bunker to knock them all out. The emotions inside quickly faded to nothing as the stunned Nazis lost consciousness.

Sgt. Dunham, Bones, and River sprinted to the blast site. By the time they arrived, the dazed Butt Kickers were already stirring. The area looked like a nightmarish scene from "Apocalypse Now". The barrack cabins Blaze had ignited were still burning, illuminating the camp with weird flickering light. Trees were toppled, trees were leaning at angles as they had gotten tangled in nearby trees. Branches had been blown off trees and were lying all about. Where the ammo bunker had been was a now a smoking crater twenty feet deep and fifty feet across. River stood ready with his M4A1 in case any Nazi’s emerged from what remained of the other two bunkers while Sgt. Dunham and Bones began to triage the injured Butt Kickers.

“River, watch this bunker," Brose ordered as she indicated the officers bunk. "If anything moves, shoot.”

River took up position. He’d wanted to look for Giana but understood the site had to be secure and he was the only man still standing. If they tried to come out, he’d enjoy sending them to hell.

The battered Butt Kickers were beginning to come around. Brose could detect their pain and disorientation, directing Sgt. Dunham and Bones to the worst injuries. One by one, the Butt Kickers staggered to their feet. Their were no life threatening injuries but all were bruised and five had suffered minor fractures. Bones used her talent to heal the breaks.

"Listen up, people," Brose spoke into her comm unit. "Everyone but River and Putin gather in front of the mess hall. Don't push yourselves but get here as soon as you comfortably can. Putin, notify The Center twenty six of us were in the blast zone and most were injured, but no one has life threatening wounds and all are functional. Once we get everyone checked, we'll pass on more info. Let them know there are ten Nazis and the two emerged in a damaged bunker. I put them to sleep. The rest are dead."

"All ready done," Putin replied. "I have your comms patched through to The Center."

"Roger that," Brose replied as she went into the damaged mess hall and found several lamps. Lighting them, she took them outside to illuminate the place she wanted the unit to gather.

It took until 0240 hours for everyone to make it to the assembly point. Three were limping. Brose scanned each as they appeared. All would recover which eased her concerns. Bones looked fatigued from all the healing she'd done. She was chowing down on Pixie Stix.

Brose sent Pfc. Loose and Sgt. High to get a truck and bring Putin and the comm equipment as well as the gear they had left with him. Msg. McNeil and River were delegated to search the headquarters bunker for information. Brose led several others back to the officer’s bunker. Emo probed inside but couldn't sense anyone but stayed on alert in case any began to wake. Casper ghosted inside and confirmed they were all still unconscious. She stayed inside to watch they stayed asleep while Brose, Sgt. Lincoln and Pfc. Molina began clearing the rubble that had been blown in by the explosion. Dom stayed right behind the three ready to take control of anyone who might wake.

By 0255 hours they were able to yank the door out of the fractured doorway. The interior was a mess. Bunks were overturned, the walls and ceiling cracked with rebar showing in many places. A fine layer of dust covered everything. Brose checked the two emerged to make sure they were still unconscious. They fitted a control collar about the necks of the ten Nazis and two emerged. Electrical jolts of various intensity from mildly annoying to unconsciousness could be administered.

One by one Brose popped an ammonia bubble before the nose of the Nazi nearest the door. Once awake, Dom took over and made them walk out of the shattered bunker into the waiting arms of other recovered Butt Kickers who had joined the entourage at the bunker. The Nazis were led to the assembly point outside the mess hall.

All but the emerged had been awakened by 0335 hours. Oberst Schroder was livid when Dom released him, especially when he realized Dom had been one of their brainwashed emerged. The raging man had to be jolted unconsciousness. The other Nazis were clearly shocked by the events and thankfully were quiet and subdued.

Damalis was up and functioning by then, so she joined Dom and Brose as they prepared to awaken the emerged. Damalis and Dom knew both Nazi emerged from their time with the Nazis. They woke Marc Weindt, a telepath, first.

Marc shook the cobwebs from his mind. Memories and terror came flooding back. The surprise attack, the fear of The Cat, the order to blow the ammo bunker, the horrible wait for the explosion, then the chaos of the blast. Looking up he saw three people, surprised because he recognized two of them... Brigitta and Franz! They'd been told everyone had been killed in the destruction of the Base! The third person, a girl with a steely glare, scared him. Tentatively reaching out with his telepathy talent he could tell his old friends were ready to use their talents on him. The third girl was unreadable... like she had some sort of shield... something he'd never encountered.

"I see you recognize your old friends," Brose spoke. "After we freed them, they changed their names. Brigitta is now Damalis and Franz is now Dominic. My name is Brose Shamrock, I'm the Warrant Officer in charge of the Butt Kickers."

Marc's eyes grew wide. The Butt Kickers! That was the unit The Cat commanded... This girl was The Cat! It took all his will power to keep from wetting himself.

"You know what Damalis and Dom can do so don't make this any tougher than it needs to be," Brose continued. "As you've already noticed, I'm immune to mental talents. If you try anything, I'll hurt you."

Marc was clearly terrified. The Cat was not threatening him, she was simply speaking the truth. That was a good deal scarier than a mere threat. Fearfully he nodded his understanding. All his bluster and bravado was gone.

While Damalis kept her senses tuned to Marc, they woke Werner Breiner, an empath. Werner felt the fear of his fellow Nazis and the satisfaction of his captors as his mind was jolted from it’s slumber. The memory of the horror all the Nazis felt on hearing Oberst Schroder’s order to blow the ammo bunker had almost knocked him out. For a few seconds he wondered if he was dead. As his eyes focused he saw three people with him, two of whom he knew... Brigitta and Franz! Since they had been killed in the destruction of the Base in Bolivia, he assumed he was dead and they had come to greet him to take him to Valhalla. But the third person, a girl with a steely glare, scared him. Maybe they were here to escort him to hell! Tentatively reaching out with his empathy talent he could tell his old friends were ready to use their talents on him. The fact he could sense nothing from the third person unnerved him even more... he'd never encountered someone he couldn’t read.

“Not feeling like much of a super man now, are you?” Brose taunted as she could feel his arrogance crumble. "Your old friends are now part of the Butt Kickers. After we freed them from the Base in Bolivia, along with new lives of freedom we allowed them to choose new names. Brigitta is now Damalis and Franz is now Dominic. My name is Brose Shamrock, I'm the Warrant Officer in charge of the Butt Kickers."

Freed from the Base? The Butt Kickers? Werner realized he was seeing The Cat! It had to be true that the Fourth Reich had been destroyed before it got off the ground. The belief in the infallibility of the Nazis that had been instilled in him since his birth was destroyed. His entire life and reason for existing had been destroyed! Now he understood Oberst Schroder’s order and wished he had been killed instead of being a humiliated prisoner.

"You know what Damalis and Dom can do so don't make this any tougher than it needs to be," Brose continued. "As you've already noticed, I'm immune to mental talents. If you try anything, I won’t kill you but I will hurt you."

Werner clearly understood The Cat was speaking the truth. An honorable death might yet possible! With an effort he tried to lunge at The Cat hoping to spear her against the broken rebar not far behind her.

Brose sensed his intent to try to hurt her but was unaware of the danger. As he rammed her she caught him in her arms and with her strength easily lifted him off the floor as she pivoted to eliminate his impetus. Only as she turned did she see the broken rebar and understood his effort.

“Werner, that wasn’t very nice,” Brose chided in the disappointed manner a strict nanny would use to rebuke a charge. “You will have to learn to play nice.”

Despite his efforts to wriggle free from her iron grasp, Werner was helpless. Fear began to grow as he realized The Cat was easily holding him with his feet off the ground. If she wanted, she could crush him! Memories of his past life as a weak girl pushed through his tough emerged masculine self. The fight slowly evaporated from his being.

Brose could feel his emotions changing. “If you promise to be a good boy, I’ll put you down,” Brose stated in a condescending voice that further eroded his bravado.

Werner nodded his head in defeat.

“You have a chance to join us,” Brose stated as she lowered him to the floor and released him. “Please don’t blow it.”

Werner was surprised by her offer. Why would anyone offer an enemy a chance to switch sides? He had a lot to think about.

By 0400 hours, everyone was gathered in front of the Mess Hall. The generator had been restarted so the area was now illuminated. Even Oberst Schroder was subdued as he surveyed the battered remnants of his command and the shattered camp that had been their base for nearly two months. Though it was difficult for the arrogant man to be intimidated, The Cat had done so. But he had not given up hope. The Butt Kickers still had to get them out of Mexico. Opportunities for escape or a glorious death might present itself if he was prepared. Unfortunately, he could see the men he'd commanded were defeated. If he attempted to plot something, the emerged would soon learn of it. All he could do was wait and hope when he made a move, the men he commanded would go with him.

Brose stepped out where all the prisoners could see her. Her face was covered by smudges from the explosion and recovery of the prisoners. The expression on her face was hard and unyielding yet did not hide her youth or how pretty she was. "For the benefit of our captives, I'm Warrant officer Ambrosia Shamrock. I'm the commander of this unit and we are the Butt Kickers. We're the ones who took out your main base in Bolivia. Your people that I’ve previously taken down called me The Cat."

The adult Nazis were stunned. They knew The Cat was a female, but they'd been expecting something like one of Wagner's Valkyrie warriors, not a pretty girl. Even Oberst Schroder was surprised.

"Marc and Werner have already recognized a few of the newer members of the Butt Kickers," Brose continued after a pause. "They were the emerged you held captive and had brainwashed. Despite what you may have thought, we took all the emerged from your base before we destroyed it. They have all been deprogrammed and have voluntarily joined us... even Erwin and your precious Elsa. I have little doubt that Marc and Werner will eventually join us. They can see the five we freed who are now part of the Butt Kickers are here of their own free will. They all had the option of not joining us but elected to do so. The adults among you will be evaluated and questioned. How you respond will determine what happens to you. For you, I can make no guarantees. There is a distinct possibility you'll be incarcerated for the rest of your lives. How you're locked up will be determined by your cooperation. We'll rest until dawn, then head out. If you don't cooperate, I'll have Dom, who you knew as Franz, take over your body again. We don't like to do that as we consider it to be raping the mind. But for you, we'll do it without hesitation. I suggest you get some rest as we'll be busy once we get moving."

Watch was set and nearly everyone curled up to take a short nap. Oberst Schroder was trying to think of a way to take out The Cat.

Everyone was roused at 0530 hours. The four rafts were quickly inflated. Their unneeded combustible gear and salvaged Nazi weapons were piled on a pyre and Blaze torched it. Tricia slagged the metal objects. After a quick meal, they loaded the rafts. The adult prisoners were led to the four rafts. Each had a bag slipped over his head and tied in place. Then they were tied face down to the floor of the rafts between the thwarts. Three each were placed into three of the rafts. Oberst Schroder was similarly trussed and secured into the forth raft. Werner and Marc also sat in the fourth raft.

It was 0610 hours by the time they launched and formed up on the still rapidly flowing stream and left the battered remnants of the camp. They tagged their flotilla raft one, raft two, raft three and raft four for their initial positions. With about ten meters between rafts, the current rapidly tugged them down the winding stream. Three members of the Butt Kickers sat on each side of each raft armed with paddles as they did their best to keep the water tossed crafts in the center of the watercourse and to avoid obstructions. By 0640 hours they had traveled the five kilometers down the Santiago to merge with the Rio Verde.

The confluence of the swirling waters spun the rafts in circles and it was a struggled to keep from being thrown against the river bank. Finally they located a relatively calm area just beyond the juncture where they were able to congregate and recover.

It took them a fem minutes to reorganize themselves, then they set of once more. The three kilometers to Ajoya went quickly and they slipped unnoticed past the still sleeping village at 0700 hours. Six kilometers further, they river made a hard right turn formed by a higher bluff that narrowed the flow and shot them through the corner. The third raft struck the high left hand bank and bounced away spinning in a circle while still being swept downstream. The first raft was able to snag the out of control raft and stabilize it to stop the wild spinning. While that was happening they were swept a half kilometer down stream where they encountered a rocky bluff on the right side that forced the stream into a hard left turn. By that time, raft two had overtaken the lead and was able to navigate the second sharp turn. Raft one and three were out of position and too close together. Both slammed into the bank and each other. Thankfully the sturdy rafts held up to the battering and they were able to regain control. Raft four made it through unscathed.

A half kilometer past that, they river widened and they once more sought shelter in a backwash. It was 0745 hours and they took a break. They had to take the hoods off the prisoners as several had gotten sick due to the bouncing, impacts, and spinning. Looking ahead they could see the stream entered a canyon with high slopes on either side. They knew from the maps this would be even rougher than the two turns they’d already been through. The three and half kilometer stretch would test their skills. They decided to go down one at a time, five minutes apart. That way they would not be distracted from their efforts to maintain control or risk trying to help another raft in trouble. Any misfortune a raft encountered would be over before the next came through the gauntlet.

Steeling themselves they cast off at 0815 hours. The initial five hundred meters was easily covered. The flow of the still rain swollen stream nearly doubled as it dramatically narrowed to slingshot them through a one hundred ten degree turn to the right. Once through that gauntlet they had an all too brief respite as the stream widened and slowed as it covered three hundred meters. Narrowing and speeding up again they shot through an eighty degree turn to the left. The next seven hundred meters was a fairly straight section that widened and slowed, only to end in an fast eighty degree turn to the left. The next two hundred meters slower straight portion was covered to quickly to allow them prepare for a narrow and fast one hundred twenty degree turn to the left. Once through that turn they were facing the first turn of the series and headed back towards that first turn for two hundred meters before entering a fast and narrow ninety degree turn to the right. At that point, separated by the high ridge they’d been winding around, the initial turn of the series was only four hundred meters away. They felt a bit cocky in their rafting skills after having a fairly trouble free ride through that section.

After that turn they had a straight run for half a kilometer run on a slower wide segment before another riachuelo entered the Rio Verde from the left as it made a ninety degree turn to the right. This turbulent turn spun all four rafts and banged them into the banks. Their cockiness quickly evaporated as the river let them know they were there only at it’s whim.

Three hundred meters of slower straight run culminating in a faster eighty degree turn to the left barely allowed them to pull themselves together. Two hundred meters of slower stretch ended in a wrenching eighty degree turn to the right followed by another two hundred meters slow straightaway into another eighty degree turbo turn to the left. The next wider slower three hundred meters stretch gave them a brief chance to catch their breath before speeding up through a seventy degree turn to the left. They felt as if they were riding on a soggy tilt-a-whirl.

Then came a wide slower five hundred meter long segment. Their relief was short lived as half way down this comparatively laconic float another riachuelo joined from the right. Fortunately they saw the swirling confluence in time to avoid the worst of the turbulence. After a last, gentler but still speedy forty five degree turn to the right the Rio Verde returned to gentle meandering.

Amazingly, all four rafts safely made it through the rain engorged torrent. That isn’t to say they went unscathed. All were battered and everyone had been bruised. Several paddles had been lost. The section they had entered was a gentle right curve. The main flow stayed to the outside of the curve leaving a much gentler flow on the right hand inside of the curve. All four rafts were able to beach on the right about half way through this one kilometer curve. It was 0905 when the last raft beached.

The crew of the first raft had started a fire and had hot beverages and rations ready for each raft as they arrived. A few scoured the shore and they were able to retrieve two of the five lost paddles. Three others were pulled out of back up. It was decided to launch at two minute intervals for the rest of the trip as the they could keep sight of each other while still having free maneuverability. They pushed off at 0930 hours.

At this point the Rio Verde spread out in it’s valley with corresponding slower current. This section was relatively calm and didn’t tax their strength. After completing the one kilometer curve a small riachuelo joined the Rio Verde at the start of a ninety degree curve to the left. Fortunately, the valley was broader at this point and the Rio Verde was almost a hundred meters wide so while it sped up, it was not nearly as intense as the earlier turns. The river continued straight and wide for the next kilometer before turning about eighty degrees to the right. Again a small riachuelo entered at the start of the curve, this time from the left. A wide straight stretch a kilometer long had a larger riachuelo enter from the right just past the midpoint. None of these mergers caused any issues. An eighty degree left turn led to a three hundred meter straight stretch ending in an eighty degree right turn with yet another riachuelo joining in the left elbow of the turn. Fortunately, the flow at the elbow was gentle since the river was almost two hundred meters wide. Five hundred meters on, the Rio Verde ended as it mixed into the larger rain swollen Rio Piaxtla four kilometers from their rest stop.

They entered the confluence with the Rio Piaxtla at 1000 hours. Although turbulent, the first five hundred meters was easy to navigate as it was quite wide. The next five hundred meters was tougher as it was a narrower eighty degree right curve that ended in a tight forty five degree curve to the left that was too fast to stay in calm water. They bounced through this section. Two hundred fifty meters on, a riachuelo entered from the left bank, however, the stream entered in an upstream direction which greatly mitigated it’s effect. Just after that joining the Rio Piaztla made a sweeping one kilometer long half circle right curve which promptly morphed into a smaller half kilometer long half circle curve to the left. While the water was turbulent, it was also wide and slow enough to safely navigate. The next three quarter kilometer straight stretch ended in a five hundred meter ‘S’ turn that severely buffeted them before straightening out into a wide kilometer long straight run. Then came a sweeping forty five degree curve half a kilometer long that brought them to the town of San Ignacio. The Rio Piaxtla formed three sides of the town as it curved around it for two kilometers. The only issue in navigating was the bridge that carried MF6 to it’s terminus in the town. At 1020 hours the town was just waking up from the celebrations of the previous night and few were about to notice the flotilla as it cruised past. None of the cartel people noticed as those assigned to watch were watching the road.

The mountains had melted into rugged foothills which allowed the Piaxtla to maintain a wide channel. Although still rain swollen their speed was slower than their descent of the Rio Verde and the going much easier. Four kilometers down the winding Rio Piaxtla, they passed the village of San Javier, seven kilometers further they went by an even smaller village. Eleven kilometers onward the passed the village of Ixpalino. Three kilometers on, they passed under the bridge that carried MF15 over the Rio Piaxtla. A half kilometer past the bridge they beached on a large tree covered island where the river widened to three hundred meters. It was 1300 hours and they paused for lunch and a siesta. The MF15 bridge was the demarcation line from the rugged cordillera to gentle hill lined valleys as the Rio Piaxtla neared the Gulf of California.

After resting for an hour they set out. Twenty six kilometers later they passed beneath the bridge that carried MF15D over the Rio Piaxtla. A kilometer beyond that was the town of Dimas and the bridge of the Sud-Pacific railroad. At 1600 hours they beached just upstream from the railroad bridge. Pfcs. Molina, Meledndez, and Hernandez led Emo, Windy, and Dom walked down the tracks and into town to buy fresh food and water, a normal procedure for rafters and kayakers who ventured down the Rio Piaxtla. It was a one kilometer trek to the market. It was 1820 hours when they returned. Emo and Dom had worked their magic on any townspeople who were curious about the new comers, leaving them thinking they were merely another group of crazy gringos who had came down the river

They set out once more and 1900 hours traveled the last four kilometers of the Rio Piaztla to reach the Gulf of California. Like many other river trippers, they set up camp to spend the night on the beach. Over a campfire of driftwood as they cooked up the food they had gotten in Dimas.
Brose reported in to The Center. Waiting off shore was the MV Klassen, the coastal freighter that had taken the Butt Kickers to Peru. Arrangements were made for a Center crewed Zodiac from the freighter to arrive at the beach at dawn. On board would be powerful outboard motors to attach to their four rafts. By noon they would all be safely aboard. The Mexican government had absolutely no idea a mission had even occurred. Even more important, it seemed the Sinaloa Cartel was in the dark as to the outcome of the mission. None of their observers saw the Butt Kickers drive out. In fact, they didn’t even know if the attack had even taken place. The mission had been another outstanding success for the Butt Kickers.

While delighted with the outcome, Brose was not satisfied. There was one item of business she felt she had to complete. Brose just couldn’t leave Jose in the hands of the cartel. After reporting on the mission, Brose broached the issue of Jose. It took little effort to convince Kris that rescuing the boy was the right thing to do. Naturally, Ms Fine was not happy with the idea, but had to yield to Kris. The only caveat Ms Fine insisted upon was that the prisoners be safely secured aboard the freighter. Brose quickly agreed.

*****