Chapter 11
Posted: March 22, 2007 - 12:22:05 am?
John Riley was very impressed with Colonel Nuñez and the Tiger
Battalion. The battalion was well armed, well disciplined and well
trained. It was a self contained, three-hundred man force that rivaled
any unit he'd ever been associated with. There were no women in the
Tiger Battalion, because Nuñez did not want the distractions he felt
were inherent in a mixed unit.
The battalion traveled in a convoy of fifty or so vehicles, most of
which were old style US two and a half ton trucks. Fifteen trucks
carried troops, while the rest carried supplies and equipment. Every
man in the battalion was a fighter, but each had an additional duty
that provided the function of support troops. Thus, cooks, mechanics,
medics and maintenance personnel came out of the ranks while the unit
was in garrison. Colonel Nuñez ran a tight ship, enforcing discipline
and providing strong leadership. Major Pasada, an organizational
genius, was responsible for the day-to-day operations of the unit in
garrison.
Riley formed these favorable impressions on the convoy to Purificación
and the setting of the battalion's bivouac. The bivouac was set up in a
large grassy meadow that Major Pasada and an advanced party had scouted
out. The meadow was approximately two miles outside of town.
Riley, his men and the two DEA agents, were ensconced in a US Army
surplus general-purpose medium tent by five that evening. Major Pasada
dropped off a case of MREs (meals ready to eat) for supper. One of the
ex-special operations soldiers commented that, except for the language
spoken, he felt as if he was with an American unit. One of the DEA
agents had an answer for that.
"From what I gather, the CIA and Colombian DAS are responsible for
equipping and training these guys. They are like counter-insurgent
bounty hunters. They get paid according to the results they achieve,
while both governments deny any involvement with them."
Riley nodded, for that explained a lot. Guzman was a very clever man,
in that he was collecting money from the DEA and Consolidated Minerals
and Metals, for the Tiger Battalion to do a job the CIA was already
paying them to do. No wonder Colonel Nuñez was fat; he had to be
eating
pretty well, what with everyone giving him money.
At dawn the next morning, Nuñez 's troops encircled the town, and
established roadblocks on every road leading out of it. When the town
started to bustle to life at seven, Nuñez and one company of his
troops
rolled into the central square of Purificación, like Patton entering
Paris. From the central square, his troops fanned out and started
patrolling the streets. Nuñez went directly to the police station with
a squad of soldiers, presented his credentials, and announced the town
was under martial law.
El Chico received the news of the occupation of the town almost as soon
as it happened. Unfortunately, his source of information misidentified
the occupiers as Guardia Nacional. Based on past experience with the
Guardia, and the ongoing negotiations with the Colombian Government, El
Chico was unconcerned. He ordered his units to stay in their camps
until the military left the area. El Chico made a grave tactical error,
based on bad information.
Colonel Nuñez had Riley, his men and the DEA agents escorted into
town,
and set them up in the same hotel Gabe and Selena had just departed.
Nuñez didn't want civilians in his war fighting camp, regardless of
their qualifications. The less outsiders knew about his operations and
tactics, the better Nuñez liked it. The inn keeping staff was much
less
pleased with the demanding Norteamericanos than they had been with the
loving, albeit noisy, newlyweds.
Numerous members of various units of the 21st Front were caught in
Purificación by Colonel Nuñez 's sudden entrance into the town. Most
of
them slipped away over the next two days, but a few were caught by
patrols or detained, trying to bluff their way through the roadblocks.
The captured insurgents were taken to the camp for questioning. One of
the reasons Colonel Nuñez wanted the Norteamericanos out of his camp
was because of his interrogation techniques. He didn't want them
getting squeamish, hearing the screams of the tortured men and women.
It only took a few hours before Nuñez had the locations of three of
the
Front's subunit camps. Unfortunately, none of the captured soldiers
were from El Chico's headquarters.
Nuñez met with his company commanders at the end of their second full
day in Purificación, to discuss what had been learned from the
captives, and to plan a campaign based on that information. As in most
military operations, the first order of business was reconnaissance of
the camps. Each of the three companies had a squad of scout/trackers;
men who grew up in the jungles and could move like a shadow through
them. These soldiers would conduct the initial reconnaissance, and then
escort their commanders on a leader's recon.
Gabe and Selena used the newlywed routine in Prado, the same as they
had in Purificación. Heck, it worked and it was lots of fun, so why
not? The Colombians were a romantic people at heart, so seeing a couple
so obviously in love made everyone they met happy. Gabe and Selena also
did the sightseeing bit in Prado, and were pleased that the town was
much nicer and more culturally native than Purificación. Gabe loved
the
town and the area around it.
Gabe could feel in his bones that he was closing in on his children and
their kidnappers. Selena learned a lot about the FARC in the area, and
the story was unlike any she'd heard before.
"Gabe, these people have much respect for the local FARC contingent.
They tell me the commander, a woman called Comendadora Zorra, actually
protects the people here, instead of exploiting them. Any money or
goods they give her are volunteered, not extorted. I have never heard
of a FARC unit that is respected instead of feared."
Gabe nodded his understanding. He knew from the weekly calls he made to
Alexandra, that Pete and his sisters were being treated well. As a
matter of fact, in his last call, Pete had made a point of having the
negotiator call Alexandra, so she could "tell Dad we are not being
mistreated." It was an odd message that Gabe was still trying to
decrypt.
By the third day in Prado, Gabe had a good idea of the general location
of the camp of this Commander Zorra. No one exactly told Selena or him
where it was located, but everyone seemed to have a reason for them not
to visit a certain mountain that lay about six miles east of the
village. Gabe and Selena talked it over, and decided that they would
sneak a peek at the mystery mountain, using a three-day hiking and
camping trip as a cover story.
On their fourth day in town, Gabe and Selena drove about three miles
out of town, heading North until they found a place to cache his
weapons, explosives, ammunition and equipment. Gabe had assembled quite
an arsenal from the FARC soldiers he'd dealt with. He had hung on to a
couple folding stock AKs and all the loaded magazines the soldiers had
carried.
After caching the gear, he and Selena went to the town's small sporting
goods store, and outfitted themselves for camping. The store was well
stocked, as it often outfitted the ecotourists who came to kayak down
the rapids of the Magdalena River. Gabe bought them sleeping bags and
pads, medium sized frameless backpacks, freeze-dried food and a
collapsible two-person tent. While Gabe stocked up on camping supplies,
Selena bought a pair of hiking boots, and found some camo pants and
t-shirts in the boys' section that fit her small frame. Selena
negotiated their purchases and Gabe paid for the gear in US dollars,
for a sizeable discount.
They packed up the backpacks that evening then went for a romantic
dinner at a nice restaurant. After dinner, the couple took their usual
walk around the town's central plaza. Selena liked walking with Gabe's
arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist. Gabe guided her to a
small park bench, sat down and pulled her into his lap. When she was
snuggled comfortably against him, he told her what was on his mind.
"I love you, Selena," he said, "and I want to marry you for real, not
just pretend like we've been doing."
Selena leaned back so she could look at his face. Her eyes seemed huge
in the moonlight, as she gazed at him.
"I am already your woman, Gabriel. I made that decision before we slept
together. I would be honored to be your wife, but marrying me would be
troublesome for you. What would your friends and family say when you
brought home a poor little mestizo? Your children would think me a gold
digging harlot or worse."
Gabe couldn't help laughing as he hugged her tight.
"Honey, I am a retired soldier, and I work in construction, so no one
will think you married me for my money. My friends and family will love
you because you make me happy, and happy is something I seldom was
before I met you. As for taking you home with me, we can visit the
States if you'd like, but I want to live here, maybe even in this town
if you agree."
Selena's eyes shone with unshed tears by the time he finished talking.
She stroked his head and just looked at him for what seemed forever.
Gabe was starting to worry that she had some other objection to
marrying him. Instead, she sniffed and buried her head against his
chest.
"Oh Gabriel, do I really make you happy? If I do, then yes, yes, I'll
gladly be your wife, and I will spend the rest of my life keeping you
happy."
Gabe was thrilled that she had accepted his proposal; his only regret
was that he didn't have a ring for her to replace the one she still
wore from her first marriage. She sat in his lap, hugging him tight for
another few minutes, then disentangled herself and stood up. She
grabbed Gabe's hand and with surprising strength, pulled him to his
feet.
"Take me to our room, Gabriel, and make love with me so the night will
be perfect."
Back in their little balconied room, they made love and talked well
into the night. Their lovemaking took on a new dimension that night, as
Selena gave up the last little bit of herself she'd been holding back.
After their first session, Gabe commented on the difference.
"It feels like something has changed between us tonight. It's as though
a barrier between us is gone now."
"I know we are going to be together forever now, my love; something I
wasn't sure of before. Somehow that has changed something in me. I
trust you enough to let myself go completely, and that's something I've
never felt before. I will be a lady on your arm mi marido (my husband);
I promise you that always, but I'm afraid you have created a wanton
Jezebel in your bed."
Gabe was touched by her fierce sincerity. He held her trembling body,
and they made love so sweet, they both were speechless with wonder.
They fit so perfectly together that it scared them at times. Gabe could
not for the life of him figure out how she understood him so well, and
so quickly. It was as if she had moved right inside his head with him.
They were up early the next morning, both in great moods, despite only
getting a few hours sleep. They slipped on their hiking uniform of
jeans, boots and long sleeved shirts, grabbed their new backpacks and
went to breakfast. After breakfast, Gabe went to the front desk and
told the innkeeper their plan. Five minutes later, they were strolling
down the road that led north out of town towards their cache. It had
been exactly thirty-three days since the kidnapping.
On the thirty-third day, in the town of Purificación, El Tigre Gordo
was preparing to launch a simultaneous attack on two targets. His
captives had all affirmed that their units comprised almost half the
FARC strength in the area. It was the most ambitious operation he had
ever attempted, and could possibly be the most lucrative. According to
the captured FARC insurgents, he was about to attack two small
companies of thirty-six and forty-two soldiers, and possibly ambush one
large guerilla (platoon) of twenty-five fighters. Under the current
bounty system in place by Guzman, that meant as much as two hundred
thousand dollars. El Chico was the real prize though, because the US
government had indicted him on drug trafficking charges, and his
capture was worth a cool million dollars.
Nuñez was disappointed that none of the FARC units he was about to
attack were commanded by women, or had ranking women in them who spoke
fluent English, nor had they participated in the attack on the air
field. However, he was a pragmatic man, and he knew he'd find more
answers as the operation unfolded.
Nuñez favored ambush as a tactic over any other, but in this instance,
the situation did not lend itself to that course of action. Instead, he
decided on coordinated early morning surprise attacks on the two larger
units. The smaller unit was close enough to one of the larger groups
that it might try to come to their comrades' aid, so he directed an
ambush on the most likely route between the two camps. If the commander
of the Guerilla did the correct thing and evacuated the area, Nuñez 's
scouts would simply follow them to their alternate camp.
The plan was finalized, and his company commanders started moving their
troops to the jump off point for the operation. The troops would sleep
until late evening, then move to their attack position during the
night. One group of men at each target would assault the camps, and
hoped that surprise and firepower would drive the FARC soldiers out of
the camp, and into the waiting arms of the rest of the Tiger Battalion
troops acting as a blocking force. If the defenders repelled the first
assault, the soldiers in waiting would attack them from the rear.
Surprisingly, Nuñez had designed the attacks to allow the FARC rebels
every opportunity to surrender. He did this because the government paid
twice as much for a live rebel they could try for treason than a dead
one they had to bury. If the captured soldier was a woman, so much the
better. Captured females were a welcomed reward for his men. After all,
Nuñez only had to deliver them to the DAS alive; their condition on
delivery was immaterial.
Nuñez stayed in the battalion command post and monitored his attacks
on
the radio. Although the fighting was fierce at one of the camps, the
outcomes of both attacks were never in doubt. As a bonus, the commander
of the isolated platoon sized unit charged pell-mell right into the
ambush laid for him. The FARC rebels in one camp chose to fight instead
of surrender, and only twelve of their number survived. The smaller of
the two companies, however, surrendered as soon as they came up against
the blocking force. As a result, thirty of them were captured,
including the company commander and two other officers. The platoon
that ran into the ambushed laid down their arms after a brief intense
firefight that killed or wounded half their number. The Tiger Battalion
suffered ten dead and fourteen wounded. Nuñez was saddened at losing
so
many men, but all in all, it was a small loss for such outstanding
results.
Nuñez sent his reserve company in, driving all the battalion's trucks
to pick up his soldiers, their prisoners and the dead and wounded from
both sides. The wounded were taken to the hospital in Purificación,
the
wounded FARC soldiers under heavy guard. The dead insurgents were
photographed and their identities established before they were turned
over to two of the town's funeral homes. His own dead soldiers were
delivered to the towns remaining funeral home, so their bodies could be
prepared for return to their families. Nuñez had the absolute loyalty
of his men because of acts like that. He was a cruel adversary, but he
took care of his men.
The fifty-four uninjured prisoners were brought back to the camp and
segregated by rank and sex. The battalion's soldiers were pleased that
the prisoners included twenty women. The enlisted men were put into a
razor wire enclosure under tight security, while the three captured
officers were manacled and brought before Colonel Nuñez. Each company
received six of the women, after the two best looking were delivered to
the command group.
Colonel Nuñez immediately turned the three officers over to his best
interrogators. By noon, he knew the exact location of El Chico and the
other Purificación subunits. He also learned the unit, its commander's
name, and general location of the kidnappers and airfield attackers. An
hour later, his remaining company was on the road, racing towards El
Chico's hideout, with Nuñez in his command jeep, leading the charge.
El Chico's hideout was a farmhouse seven miles outside of
Purificación.
El Chico actually owned the farm; he had purchased the land and built
the house on it with money he'd skimmed from the drug dealings over the
years. At one time, El Chico had been one of the FARC's top commanders,
but now he was more concerned with personal gain than revolutionary
glory. Only a wide spread circle of contacts within the drug cartels
kept El Chico from outliving his usefulness. Like many of the old guard
FARC cadre, El Chico thought himself invincible, consequently, his
foolish bravado cost him his freedom, and the FARC most of its soldiers
in eastern Tolima Province.
Nuñez and his gun jeeps ran right through El Chico's defenses, and
stormed his house before the man could even think about escaping. With
maps found in El Chico's basement, his soldiers fanned out and started
rolling up the smaller guerilla cells and rounding up their support
personnel.
While all the excitement was going on in Purificación, Gabe and Selena
were carefully and cautiously exploring around the mysterious mountain
they figured held the camp of Comendadora Zorra. Selena was amazed at
the way her man moved in the thick jungle, as he seemed to glide along
as silent as a mountain puma. She was half his size, yet felt clumsy
and noisy compared to him. Even the birds seemed to take little notice
of his passing, as even the noisy toucans and scarlet macaws ignored
him.
Gabe found a small clearing in a jungle thicket for them to use as a
camp for their first night. They ate unheated food and energy bars,
then snuggled together in one sleeping bag. They found the well-used
trail that led from the town of Prado up towards the camp, in the late
afternoon of their second day. Gabe found them another clearing in a
jungle thicket that looked down on the trail for an observation post.
They made themselves a nest in the clearing and took turns watching the
trail.
It was near dusk, and Selena was dozing with her head in Gabe's lap,
when a man and a woman came walking up the trail. Gabe gently woke her,
as the couple approached, talking excitedly. Although Gabe and Selena
caught only snatches of the conversation, the two soldiers were talking
about the news of the Tiger Battalion that they had picked up in Prado,
while on their day off. The news was important enough to report to the
Comendadora, so they cut short their overnight pass and headed home.
Their excitement caused them to be less careful than usual.
Gabe whispered to Selena to stay put, as he rose and shadowed the pair,
well out of their sight. He moved as quietly and quickly as possible,
staying parallel to the pair, remaining about thirty meters inside the
jungle. He kept his bearing relative to them by the sound of their
voices. Gabe stopped when he heard the challenge of a third voice. He
cautiously moved to the edge of the trail and peered out. The couple
was back down the trail from him, as he had passed them when they
stopped. From his vantage point, he could see the well conceal bunker,
and the guard in it challenging them. The couple walked up the path
another twenty yards, made a turn into the jungle across from him, and
disappeared from view. If he didn't have the trained eyes of a sniper,
he'd have never seen the second concealed bunker and guard. Gabe fixed
the locations of both guards in his mind, before returning to Selena.
Gabe and Selena moved to a position that allowed them to watch the
trail junction guarded by the concealed bunker. Gabe was impressed with
the security that someone had created. It was a very effective way to
guard what he thought was the main approach to the FARC camp, with a
minimum of personnel. Gabe also thought there had to be at least one
more guard position between the trail intersection and the camp. A
defense in depth had to have at least three layers to be effective.
Once again, the couple snuggled into one sleeping bag and drifted off
to sleep.
Marta Cardenas was shocked and angry, when her two soldiers reported to
her with the news from Purificación. If what her troops reported was
true, her column was about the last viable military unit left in the
21st Front. It was a stunning turn of events if it were true. Tomorrow
she would have to verify the rumors for herself by visiting Prado to
hear the latest news. She thought for a minute about trying to contact
El Chico either by radio or cell phone, but disregarded the idea as too
dangerous. If the front was under attack on the scale her soldiers
suggested, it could mean that their clandestine communications system
had somehow been compromised.
She had much to think about as she walked down the tunnel leading to
Peter Ballard's cell. So many good things had happened to her since she
had kidnapped the young man, that bad news of this magnitude was
greatly magnified. She needed to find some perspective and she
instinctively knew that Peter could help her in her quest. She shook
her head ruefully, as she felt her body come alive as each step brought
her closer to him. Even horrible news could not quell the yearning she
felt for him. The last two weeks had been a revelation and an
education, as Peter had tipped her well-ordered universe on its side.
Peter had caused her to question all she believed before she met him,
from her outlook on sex, to her political views. Peter helped her see
what she had been realizing more and more on her own. Namely that the
FARC was no longer about freeing the people and creating a state that
actually treated all people as equal. Instead, it had become just
another group trying to curry favor with the drug cartels for monetary
gain. He was also helping her see more clearly the misguidedness of
applying communism as a cure for social injustice. Marta was starting
to see that the Marxist idea of collective ownership simply replaces
the wealthy landowners with corrupt bureaucrats.
Marta now realized that financial and political clout, not military
strength, was what her people needed. When she told Peter that changes
on the scale her country needed seemed impossible to achieve, he
reminded her that big tasks were often best accomplished by taking
small bites out of the problem first. Why not try the ideas here in
Prado first, he asked? If they worked here she could increase the
sphere of her influence a little at a time. She told him it was a good
idea, but money drives the train, and money was one thing they didn't
have.
"Let me work on that," he said. "I might just have a few ideas."
Marta wasn't the only woman whose well-ordered universe had been turned
on its side by Peter. As Darla Ballard lay naked, wrapped in the arms
of her equally naked brother, she basked in the afterglow of yet
another lovemaking session she had initiated. As she reflected on the
past two weeks, she had to marvel at just how much her attitudes about
sex had changed. Never in a million years would she have ever imagined
actually enjoying sex, much less enjoying it with her own brother.
Darla reminisced about her first breeding session with Peter. She had
felt such shame and embarrassment when Peter had mounted her that first
time. To her way of thinking, it was a perverted act she was being
forced to commit, and she'd just wanted to get it over with as quickly
as possible. She had no desire or expectation of finding pleasure in
it, but from the moment he penetrated her with his long, thick shaft,
she couldn't deny how wonderful it felt, and as he began to thrust
within her, the pleasurable sensations only intensified.
After that first breeding session was over, her thoughts and feelings
were in turmoil for the rest of the day. How could something she
believed to be so perverted feel so wonderful? It didn't help matters,
when yet another guerilla girl came to their cell that afternoon and
spent a couple of hours copulating with Peter. She was unable to resist
watching Peter as he first licked the girl to an orgasm, before
mounting her. Darla had never engaged in oral sex, thinking it a nasty
practice, but after seeing how much her sisters and these Colombian
women enjoyed it, she began to reevaluate her attitude. After a couple
more days of watching Peter as he pleasured more women, Darla came to a
decision.
It was early in the morning, when Darla made her move on the still
sleeping Peter. After stripping out of her conservative nightgown, she
snuggled against Peter's body, her bare breasts pressed against his
shoulder. When he failed to stir, she reached down with her hand and
placed it over the bulge in his briefs, pleased to find that he had a
morning erection. She gave his turgid shaft a firm squeeze, and smiled
when Peter finally began to awaken.
"Wh..."
Peter's eyelids fluttered open. At first, he thought the hand squeezing
his erection belonged to either Katherine or Stephanie, but when he
turned to see a naked Darla gripping his organ, he gasped in surprise.
"Darla? Wh... What are you trying to do?" He whispered.
"I want to apologize for how I've been acting."
As she spoke, she slipped her hand beneath Peter's briefs and began
fondling his penis. When his only response was a soft moan, she
interpreted it as permission to continue. She released his penis long
enough to pull down his underwear.
"I've never done this before, so please be patient with me, Petey," she
whispered, just before slipping beneath the blanket, to perform her
first blowjob.
Darla could still vividly recall that first time her lips made contact
with her brother's manhood. She swiped the tip of her tongue over the
head, tasting a slightly salty pearl of moisture as she did so. She
opened her mouth and took him inside, reminding herself to avoid
scraping his sensitive organ with her teeth. She knew her first attempt
at fellatio would probably be clumsy, but she gave it her best effort.
As she became more confident in her sucking efforts, she took more of
his shaft into her mouth, bobbing it in and out with increasing tempo.
Peter's appreciative groans encouraged her, and in short order, she
received the first of several jets of semen, which she gamely
swallowed. She kept suckling at his softening penis, until Peter pulled
her onto her back. She would never forget what he whispered in her ear.
"Thank you, sweetheart... that was a very nice surprise to wake up to.
Now I'd like to return the favor."
As Peter moved down her body, she eagerly spread her legs to give him
access. Darla knew the moment that Peter's lips kissed her labia that
she was in for a sublime experience, and she was not disappointed.
Katherine and Stephanie had tried to tell her how wonderful it would
feel to have Peter kiss her most intimate place, but their words could
not prepare her for the actual experience. By the time it was over,
Darla felt as though her body had been reduced to jelly. Peter's
talented tongue had definitely created another Peter Ballard devotee.
Joe J
& Wet Dream-Girl
Chapter
12