Chpt 4 Naked Man

The metal door was pushed heavily aside and Yanek’s limp body was dragged back into the room where the rest of the Sentinals lay bound. The guards barely looked at Major who let off a string of expletives intended to turn their hard exteriors into quivering jelly. With a loud clank the large bolt was drawn shut, sealing the team of elite SAS men in their cell.
“Is he dead?” Godfather asked, a little too eagerly Yanek felt as he rolled over onto his side.
“Damn.”
“Thanks GF I love you too.” Yanek rejoined. His head hurt. Dealing with Khan had taken longer than he’d thought, and the man certainly knew how to use a rubber hose. Yanek’s small intestine felt as if it had been flushed out, let alone his colon.
“What did he want?” Major asked as he wormed his way forward.
“To know if we knew where the opium was.”
“And?”
“We do now.” Yanek said as he tried to smile.
“Good lad. Now – how do we get out of here?”
“Ah.” Yanek couldn’t supply an answer. He’d been hoping Major and the team had come up with some kind of new and wonderful plan.
“Silence.” Savannah barked. Everyone jumped. Sav had a way of disappearing. Even his own team sometimes forgot he was there.
“God damn it Savannah, I almost shat my pants-“
The echo of a gunshot silenced them all.

Then another.

Bang.

Ratt-a-tatt-tatt.

Bang.

Then awful silence.

Was it help? Was this the moment they’d been waiting for? Could HQ have sent in another team to rescue them? Hopefully, Scorch thought darkly, because there was no way they were going to get themselves out. Heavy footfalls made them all learn towards the back of the barn. Then quickly a plank was kicked in and Riddick’s blackened face peered through.
“All fail.” He quipped at the sights of the bright white smiles.
“Riddick you swine, what took you so long?”
“Had a bit of a problem with parking.”
Another gunshot blasted out nearby.
“Oh don’t worry – Rommel is just clearing away the last of the shites men.”
“Good because they’re scaly buggers, sneaking about. They got the drop on us pretty quick. One moment we thought we had them, the next minute – as if by magic they were all around us.”
“No, no, Rommel is doing round up.”
“Oh shit.”
“What?” Riddick asked.

What was Rommel doing was a question on Opticle’s mind as well. He had watched the heavy hitting man kill some towel-head with ease, then just stop and watch as the corpse had pissed itself. Opticle hadn’t been able to see what happened next because the ants on the hill he was sniping from had begun to make it through his suit and seemed drawn to the sweat in his crotch. He was – at present – making his way as quickly as possible down the hill and away from the nest. The only difficulty was that he had to move quietly in case he alerted the enemy. And the ants seemed to be able to move faster than he could.

“Allah preserve me, Lhahid – did that bush just say God damned mother fucking little shits?”
Lhahid had to agree with his companion. It did appear that a bush on top of a small hill near their sentry post had indeed taken the lords name in vane. He also agreed that it did not make sense. Why would a Juniper bush want to curse God? And more importantly who were the little shits? The questions begged investigation. Cautiously – for one never approaches a cursing Juniper bush with anything less – they moved forward.

As did the ants.

One enterprising worker had made its way via an air hole into the inner lining of Opticle’s suit and had detected a reservoir of sweat between two fairly round pink hills. It paused for a moment then sank its jaws into the base of Opticle’s buttocks.
A week later Lhahid would tell a tale of a bush that cursed God and spat out a naked soldier.
“Screw this!” Wailed Opticle as he pulled his suit off and broke into a run. He knew it might be suicide, but what fate was worse than being eaten alive by ants? He ran straight into the arms of Lhahid and his friend.

Rommel meantime had discovered God. As the urine from the dead soldier began to evaporate on the wood, the shape of the cross it had made began to fade too. But the spiritual light into Rommel had begun to grow. In a show of disgust he threw down his weapon. Then tore off his bandolier. Finally he removed his jacket. Slowly he bent down and picked up the body of the man he’d killed moments before. Then, with the man in his arms he left the farm site. A week later, just as Lhahid had finished telling his story about the bush of God, a man walked past carrying a bloated and rotting corpse. Locals claimed he was a lunatic seeking the parents of the dead body.

Riddick, however, was not contemplating Rommel’s new found inner Spirit. He was however contemplating what would happen if Rommel had somehow not killed everyone, if Opticle had somehow missed those Rommel had missed, and if Ecko 7 and Bonta Kun had missed everyone everyone else had missed, and if Daikonran had missed everyone that everyone else had missed. He reckoned the odds were stacked unusually high against this eventuality. It seemed at that moment however that the odds had won out. Standing over him as he looked into the shed with the Sentinals, was an Iraqi armed with an AK47.

Ecko and Bonta were in fact missing the show. After dispatching two young guards and having a quick mouth to mouth moment, they’d moved into to their respective positions.
“No – you go first Fatima…”
“But what if they are dangerous?”
Dangerous to men perhaps. But Fatima and Khali had discovered their bhurka covered faces had seemed so innocent and benign that Ecko and Bonta had lost their concentration for a moment.
“Oh we were sent by my uncle to fetch water from the river. When we heard fighting, we got very scared.”
“Oh yeah?” Bonta asked contemptuously.
“Yes. Very.” Fatima responded, flapping her eyelashes like a camel killing flies. Khali was leaning in close to Ecko, who seemed to like the female attention. especially after the attention he’d received from Bonta.
“And then we saw it was you brave young soldiers.” Khali said, almost in a whisper.
“We like soldiers like you.” Giggled Fatima.
“Sure.” Bonta said. Something was funny about these women.
“And just what do you mean soldiers like me?” Ecko asked his face inches from the sultry eyes of Khali.
“You know – big…”
“I’m big.” Ecko whispered, leaning in closer, his mouth ready to embrace Khali’s.
“Strong –“
“I’m strong…”
Their breathing became one.
“Oh please.” Bonta said as he turned away from Ecko and his kissing beauty, straight into the face of Fatima.
“Oh god.” He said as he turned the other way, only to find her shadowed, and somewhat over mascara’ed eyes. He turned again only to find her again directly in front of him.
“Ecko – we’ve got a mission to finish. We’re going.”
“Hmmm.” Was the only sound coming from Ecko, apart from the occasional sucking noise.
“Mission? What mission oh sweet soldier?” Fatima asked too sweetly.
“We’re here to rescue our friends.” Bonta said as he tried to push past her.
“The other soldiers like you?” She asked as she spun around catching his hand in hers.
“Yes. Now let me go –“ Bonta snarled.
Before he could react she had snapped his wrist and was dragging him to the floor. He grunted out in pain and tried to punch her but her other arm blocked, slid along the length of his, and buried her nails in his throat.
“One more sound and you die.” She hissed.
“Khali!” She shouted to her kissing sister.
Ecko, vaguely aware of his surroundings suddenly became acutely aware that his tongue was stuck between Khali’s sharp teeth.
“Uurgghnaha?” He tried.
Her eyes twinkled brightly in the moonlight, playful and full of sexual promise… and denial. He tried to move, but she began to clamp down on his tongue. The more he squirmed the more she bit his organ of mastication.
“Move it and loose it sucker.” Fatima snapped as she bound Bonta’s hands.

The sun bore down on the old roof of the farm with unrelenting fury. Godfather awoke to find he’d been sun-burned in neat stripes, in accordance with the gaps in the old sheds wooden roof.
“Great.” He muttered as he pulled himself to his knees. The shed was a little cramped. Riddick and Daikonran had been tied together and took up one corner. Ecko and Bonta were next to them. Opticle – in nothing but his underwear was bound to a support beam in the middle of the room. Then the rest of the Sentinals took up the remaining space.
“Great.” He uttered again after some thought.
But there was nothing for it. He was bound and couldn’t move faster than a wiggle. And it seemed that El Moffi and his men had better security than they’d been given credit for. Something was deeply wrong.
“All right sons of dogs – wake up!” Came a shout from outside, as the door was heaved open. Several towels entered and began dragging the fallen soldiers out. If the light had been bright inside the shed, it was hell outside. The SAS teams were dragged into a little group in the middle of the courtyard of the farm. El Moffi was sitting in a deck chair under a white umbrella.
“Good morning.” He said, before taking a swig of water from a canteen.
“Screw you.” Major managed before a rifle butt silenced him.
“I awoke dis morning wit a vision: I haff in my captivity nine SAS elite soldiers.” He began as he rose and started pacing.
“Imagine my pleasure when I discover News teams in da area looking for good news.” He continued, a smirk of pleasure playing across his jowls.
“Good news for me, is good news for d’jou too. For d’jou see day are coming here tomorrow. So – instead of dieing today, d’jou die tomorrow on National television. And I? I get paid a small fortune for da pleasure of it all. Good news yes!”
He nodded his head and the armed guards dragged the men back into the shed.

“Do you know what will happen if they see us being executed on national fucking television?” Riddick shouted at Major.
“I don’t give a fig about their national fucking home grown TV, what I cared about is dieing tomorrow.” Major shouted back.
“Look chaps –“ Godfather interjected –
“-Shut up!” Both Riddick and Major screamed back at him.
“Can’t you see we’re trying to come up with a plan.” Riddick bellowed, looking fiercely at Major.
“A good one.” Major shouted back looked equally angry.
Both men shut up, seething with frustration.
“So … we go to war in Spiderman undies I see.” Scorch said, looking at Opticle’s boxers.
“Bite me.”
“No, no… I think it’s … nice.” Savannah added before both he and Scorch burst into laughter.
“Just how did you end up … naked Opticle?” Daikonran asked.
“Just how did you end up being captured Daik?”
All eyes and ears shifted to Daikonran.
“I mean we know how Bonta and Ecko were surrounded by like ten guards, right Ecko?”
Very sheepishly Ecko said it was more like fifteen.
“And we know the boss was caught here, and I was … had …”
“Ants in your pants.” Major said between giggles. Opticle ignored him and continued to look at Daikonran.
“And we don’t know what the hell happened to Rommel. But just how did you end up in here with us?”
Daikonran looked for support but found only a ring of very interested men.
“I fell OK. I fell off the god damned roof.”
“So?” Opticle pushed, he wanted to know more.
“I fell off the roof… and got knocked out. Next thing I know I’m here with you pansies.” He said sullenly. Opticle scanned his face for signs of a lie. But Daikonran was a better poker player than he, and so his lie went undetected. The truth was far less flattering.

He had positioned himself perfectly on the roof of the farmhouse to take out anyone trying to prevent his captain from freeing the team. However the roof had seemed a little unstable and proved to be even less able to hold his weight. With a splintering crash he’d fallen into the barracks of the enemy. Several startled soldiers had died as he opened up on them. Quickly he’d moved into the next room, a mess hall of sorts. Then he’d moved into the kitchen as bullets from the enemy had peppered the walls around him. The kitchen was empty, of all windows and apparent exits. His only choice was to hide. So he climbed into a cupboard near an old stove and waited. The enemy had stormed the room firing a few shots at shadows. It was then he noticed the smell. At first he assumed it to be some kind of food stuff that smelled vaguely of gas. Then he’d realized he could hear the soft hiss of a gas line slowly leaking gas from the stove into the cupboard. Even as his vision drifted in and out of focus he burst from the cupboard firing at nothing, stumbled forward and banged his head on the table. He was out cold before the guards even realized he was the enemy.

“Guys!” Everyone in the shed looked at Ecko. “They didn’t search my boots. I got a knife in my left boot!” In the rush Scorch was pushed aside as Major and Riddick hiccupped their way towards the proffered boot.
“He’s in my team!”  Riddick shouted.
“I am the senior rank!” Major countered.
“I’m here to rescue YOU.” Riddick parried.
“Balls!” Shouted Major as he surged forward. His maneuver, although winning him the race, also unbalanced him. He’d planted himself face first into Ecko’s lap.
“With all due respect sir, get your head off my kit.” Ecko said as calmly as a man can when another older man is inches away from his pecker.
Major rolled onto his side, his face pale. It was a close encounter he didn’t care for either.
“Just get the fucking thing and let’s get out of here.” He ordered.

“Nicely done Ecko.” Godfather said as he rubbed his wrists.
“Ok, so what’s the plan sir?” Yanek asked as he looked through a notch in the wooden wall. The teams were ready for action, now that their bonds had been cut.
“I know he has at least six men with him at all times. Complete idiots, but loyal.” He continued.
“Yanek.” Major said coolly from behind him.
“Yes sir?” Yanek asked without looking back. “Oh wait – I can see some more, oh shit they heading this way. It’s El Moffi!”
“Yanek?” Major said again.
“Quick we better –“ Yanek said as he spun around.

And stopped.

And stared.

Standing behind Major and the boys was a line of El Moffi’s men. Armed with AK’s, all of which were pointing at the Major and the team.
“Shit.” Yanek moaned as he slowly raised his hands.
“Indeed.” Scorch added sourly. It would seem that luck was not on their side.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Major groaned. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He howled and kicked his legs.
“Sir? Sir!” Yanek said urgently. “Please its awkward enough without you … flexing.”
Major had to agree. He looked out at the rest of his men, dark thoughts clouding his brows. El Moffi, ever keen to be on Jerry Springer, had stripped the men down to their birthday suits, literally removing everything they might be able to use to escape with and had hung them by their arms from the roof beams. But he’d also tied the men back to back in pairs to prevent them from trying anything. So the sensation of his own slightly sagging buttocks rubbing against Yanek’s younger globes was indeed awkward.
“Ok, when we get out of this – if anyone – and I mean anyone mentions this I will hunt that person down. rip his dick off and, force feed it to my mothers French fucking poodle. Got it?” Godfather warned.
“Don’t worry bud, ain’t nobody in this room going to mention this.” Major chuckled.
“Right Yanker?” Godfather asked. He didn’t trust the camp little brit from Eton College. One never knew with them.
“Oh … my lips are sealed.” Yanek said, taking mental photographs of Riddick’s well hung team.
“So now what?” Riddick demanded.
“Well we could just hang around and see what happens next?” Opticle said before bursting to laughter.
“Hey! You were in your fucking shorts this morning, so don’t you start.” Ecko shouted kicking out with his feet.
“Watch it!” Opticle said as he bucked backwards pressing his partner – Bonta – towards Godfather and Savannah.
“Stop! Stop! For the love of God stop!” Godfather shouted trying to lean backwards away from the rapidly approaching, and incredibly hairy Bonta.
“Major! Sir!” Yanek suddenly called out.
“What?”
“I think … if I can turn around, I could untie your knots, then you could get us all free.”
Without thinking, and grasping at the last straw Major consented. The shed was full of the gyrating bodies of naked men, now was not the time to think, only to avoid.
“Hey listen!” Daikonran hushed everyone.
The whine of a helicopter’s blades was unmistakable.
“The News people?” Godfather asked, slowly swinging from side to side.
“No – it sounds like a P77 rotor.” Scorch guessed correctly.
“But that’s what we use on our birds!” Ecko added enthusiastically, but incorrectly.
“No it’s what Merc’s usually use on theirs.” Savannah corrected sullenly.
“Yes, nearly there sir.” Yanek said, as he wormed his way around. “I just need to lock my legs around you for a moment, so that I can reach up and untie the knot.”
“Ok… no what! Wait!”
In one terrible, and all too practiced in Godfather’s opinion, movement Yanek mounted Major, wrapping his legs around the older man’s waist.
“There! That feels better.”
“Really?” Major asked as he resigned himself to a deeper level of hell for being killed whilst having a fairy stuck to his naked backside.
“It’s landing!” Riddick shouted above the roar of the choppers blades.
The next moment a hail of bullets tore through the sheds walls, narrowly missing the feet of the dangling platoon.
El Moffi and his men returned fire and a terrific barrage of bullets and mortars ensued. Explosive rounds evaporated nearby cows, chickens and soldiers. Grenades cannoned through windows killing the contents. Khali – bare-breasted and followed by a half naked youth careened out of the side building firing a shotgun and screaming defiance. Sadly the choppers blades cut her short. Fatima, seeing her sister killed ran forward, a grenade in each hand, cursing the infidels back to hell. If only she’d known that nades didn’t detonate until the pins were pulled she might have been successful. As it was her moment of incredulity was silenced by a berserk donkey that kicked open its stable door knocking Fatima unconscious, before braying to its own gods and loping off towards town. The sheds door was thrown open and El Moffi stumbled in, blood gushing from his neck. He held his revolver shakily in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. Idly he mopped some blood from his neck and then raised the revolver.
“For Allah!” He bubbled.
“Got it!” Yanek shouted over the hellfire.
Major and Yanek both fell to the ground, Major landing heavily and Yanek bouncing on top of him. The bullet from El Moffi missed, sailed through the air and hit the main support beam of the shed.

The beam seemed fine.

For a moment.

Then an RPG from outside struck a nearby truck. The truck exploded sending burning debris in all directions at super speeds. The side door of the truck smashed into the support beam of the shed, a moment after the bullet from El Moffi’s gun. The beam disintegrated sending all the men to the floor and the top of the roof into the next building. The rest of the evening was chaos and darkness.

“Well, well, well. Look at what we have here?” A voice said pulling a shard of wood off Yanek’s bared backside.
“Oh.” Yanek said blushing. “Would you mind? Only the Major’s rather uncomfortable to lie on.”
“I can see that.” Vixen said as she cut the ropes binding Yanek to Major. The moment Major was unbound he rolled left tossing Yanek aside.
“NEVER AGAIN! You hear me! I’d rather die.” He cursed pointing a finger at Yanek. The he remembered his nakedness and Vixen. So he cursed again. Then he looked up and saw something. So he cursed yet again.
Yanek looked at him, covered in dust and grim, naked as the day he was born, and with bits of wood in his hair. Then he looked in the direction the Major was looking in.
“But isn’t that? I mean – I thought she was –“
“She is.”
“But she was on leave – with her sister in Essex. Oh.”
Bitch, Commander of Borg strode forward through some smoke from a nearby truck that was burning. Next to her, strode her sister.
“Apparently not the Essex I know of then.” Yanek said, slightly confused as to how the commander of his battalion was also the commander of a group of rogue mercenary women.
“Major, I see you have everything well in hand.” Bitch said matter-of-factly.
“Well… yes… you see.” Major said as he tried to move his hands about his crotch, covering the family jewels from a renowned jewel thief.
“I expect a full report in the morning on how YOU and Riddick managed to overcome the enemy. And no one will need to know about this … small problem.” She said before smiling pityingly at him. She turned and walking back into the smoke broke out into laughter.

And so as the chopper took to the air, its blades blasted away the smoke from the battle. Leaving the men of Borg Squad standing in the rubble: Ego’s bruised; bottom’s bare, but victorious in their first mission…