Code Name Tequila Ch. 19

Ciro did next what dogs due when they want to alert the humans of something.

He barked, loudly.

* *

Off in the dense rain forest, April, May and Chambers struggled through the dense and dark underbrush. They didn't risk a light, lest they be seen by guards patrolling the parameter of the camp, so they had to feel their way through the thick jungle undergrowth and around the gnarly roots, low hanging branches and thick trunks of the trees. Chambers had a significant limp, and was already breathing heavily even though they had only managed to make it about 20 feet into the forest.

Then they heard the dog barking. Loudly and repeatedly.

"Damnit," said May. "Looks like we've been found to be missing. We need to move... NOW!"

The three CIA agents picked up the pace as they struggled through the forest. They gained another 10 feet when suddenly the clearing behind them burst into light. Someone had turned on the generators, and lights were suddenly pouring out into the forest, casting long shadows in front of them. Voices barked orders as a search party was quickly organised. Beams from spotlights swept back and forth around them.

April, May and Chambers ducked behind a large tree trunk.

"What now?" April asked in a whisper.

Chambers stared away, looking as the forest was illuminated by the lights. "Look ahead, there," Chambers said, pointing into the distance. "It looks like the forest thins about 30 feet in that direction. Perhaps a river bed or clearing. Either way, let's make a break for that, and from there, with some open ground, we should be able to gain some distance."

April and May nodded, and then the three got up and started to run, unconcerned about making noise given that they probably wouldn't be heard over the racket coming from the camp. May went first, using her hands and the rifle butt to clear a path as best she could. Chambers followed, sticking close to May and the path she cleared. April followed as rear guard, keeping an eye behind her, telling the team when to duck as search lights swept by, and helping Chambers up when he stumbled.

April looked back to see a group of soldiers entering the forest behind them. She heard a dog barking frantically behind them, and could see the beams of flashlights bobbing about 20 feet behind them. "We need to pick up the pace," she said.

May, struggling with the rifle butt to batter a path through an especially tangle grouping of ferns, said, "I'm trying."

The dog barking got louder and closer. April turned around, and raised her rifle, but it was too late. Ciro, the mongrel mutt, jumped up and knocked her down. The rifle went spiralling off into the dense jungle. As she fell, April knocked into Chambers, who lost his balance and dropped to the jungle floor. April landed half on Chambers, and both were pinned down by the large dog standing on April's chest and growling.

May turned around, raising her rifle, but slowly lowered it when she saw what confronted her. A group of about 10 soldiers had their rifles trained on her.

Clemente, the Colonel who April had slept with just the night before, stepped forward. He ran his flashlight over April and Chambers on the ground, and then focused the beam on May's face. May squinted into the bright light.

Clemente frowned. "Well, it appears we have not one, but THREE gringo spies in our midst." Clemente turned to the soldiers. "Take them back to the camp, and make sure they are all SECURED this time."

The three CIA agents were grabbed by the rough soldiers hands and dragged back to the camp.

* *

The next day, as the morning light broke over the jungle canopy, Colonel Clemente started the interrogations. The three Americans were kept in separate cabins, and in each a group of soldiers tried to get them to speak.

After an hour, Clemente went to check on the progress of the questioning.

First he visited the hut where May was kept. Walking in, he saw the exasperated look on his soldiers faces.

"It is no use," the lead interrogator said. "She seems like enjoy it! In fact, the more pain we inflict, the more she seems to love it."

Clemente looked over at May, and shook his head. He walked over and slapped her across the face. She looked up and said, "Oh, have I been a bad girl. Are you going to punish me, hot stud?"

Clemente leaned in close and whispered in May's ear. "If you don't talk, I will take a car battery and attach it to your testicles. What would you think of that?"

May shivered and let out a moan of desire.

Clemente stood up. "Fuck it. We'll break the others."

Next the Colonel visited the hut with Chambers in it. Again, the soldiers reported no success.

"He has had too much," they said. "He keeps slipping off into unconsciousness. We can't get him to stay awake long enough answer any questions."

Clemente sighed. "Fine. Get Alma in here to clean him up, and then let him rest and get back his energy. We'll try again tomorrow with him."

* *

Chambers sat against the tree, watching birds playful flirt in the air above his head. The sun was shining, and the pretty meadow was filled with tall grasses and flowers, slowly and gently swaying in the breeze. Off in the distance, he could see a stream meandering through the landscape.

Ria was standing in front of him. How did she get there, suddenly in his view? Chambers put the thought out of his head. What did he care how she came to be here. He was just happy to see her.

"Hello, Ria," he said.

Ria responded, in Spanish, "You poor thing. Why do they treat you like this?"

Chambers raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? I'm fine."

Ria knelt down in front of him, and started to clean off his chest. "Where did my shirt go?" Chambers asked, "and where did that sponge come from? Ria, what is going on?"

Ria looked back over her shoulder. "He keeps calling me that - Ria."

Chambers looked over Ria's shoulder to where her gaze was, but saw nothing but blue skies off in the distance.

* *

Alma cleaned up Chambers as best she could, and left him with a cold compress on his head. She walked outside the poured the blood filled water from her bowl onto the ground. "Poor man," she thought as she watched his blood soak into the dirt.

Alma was a 19 year old sad eyed beauty whose father, a poor farmer, had given her over to the rebel army as a kitchen girl. Alma didn't fault her father. She knew that he couldn't afford to have her live at home on the meagre amount his farm brought in every month. While the army camp wasn't too bad, and Clemente made sure that the soldiers kept a respectful distance from Alma, she still wished she could be somewhere else. In the city, with a nice apartment and pretty clothes. She wanted away from this camp of dirt and the inevitable, seemingly disastrous fate that awaited it.

Alma could sense the camp was split. Between those that believed in the Aguila Roja's plan, and those that felt they were following the wrong leader. The Aguila Roja was a phantom, just an image that the soldiers had been sold. At first, they believed, but as the day for undertaking their plan grew closer, she could see the young men's belief faltering. They wanted more than a phantom to lead them.

* *

Finally, Colonel Clemente visited the cabin with April in it.

"Are you getting anything?" he asked, looking at April, head covered with a wet burlap sack, having just had a bucket of water dumped on her head.

"No, she is being silent," the interrogator said.

Clemente rolled his eyes and let out a large sigh. "Damn American spies." He walked over April and yanked off the hood covering her head. "Why won't you admit you are spies and let us know what your plan is?" he asked.

"Clemente," April said, still trying to catch her breath from the water torture. "What are you doing working for Patterson and the Aguila Roja? Don't you know what they want?"

Clemente smirked. "They want to get rid of the American interference and let us Latinos rule our own lands, instead of being lap dogs for the Americans. They want what we want, a strong and independent Latin America."

April shook her head. "No they don't. Patterson is making deals to give control of the oil fields of Venezuela to the Americans, and control of the Panama Canal to the Aguila Roja. You know why they are doing that? To make shipping drugs easier and to keep the poor farmers still in indentured poverty."

Clemente shook his head. "No, April, you are wrong about that. We are building a strong military to face up against the Americans."

April shook her head again. "No, no, Clemente. You can't believe Patterson, and you can't believe the Aguila Roja. All they want is to line their own pockets by controlling the trade in drugs and guns. If you believe that the Americans have too much influence, then you must realize that with the Aguila Roja all you are doing is trading one controller for another. I understand your desire for stronger Latin American states, but this is not the way to do it. Not with Patterson. Not with the Aguila Roja. You need to fight AGAINST people like that, not with them."

Clemente frowned and snarled, "typical American propaganda!"

"No Clemente, it isn't. Ask yourself this. If the Aguila Roja wants a strong Latin American state, and a strong military, why is he working with an American like Patterson? Why is he going to take control of the oil companies, instead of allowing them to be controlled by Colombians or Venezuelans. Have you ever even seen this Aguila Roja? How do you even know that he is a Latin American?"

Clemente stared at April for a moment in silence. After a moment, he blinked, and turned away from her. He handed the dripping wet hood to the interrogator. "Continue," Clemente said, and walked out of the hut.

* *

The day passed into night, and despite the best efforts of the interrogators, the next morning saw the sun rise with no information from the American spies.

The lead interrogator reported this to Colonel Clemente as he ate his breakfast, prepared for him by the camp's girl-Friday, Alma.

"None of the Americans are speaking," the lead interrogator reported. "The two tranny girls are remaining silent. However, the man is in a get condition today. Perhaps we can start questioning him again."

Clemente frowned. "Bah, I am starting to lose faith that these Americans will speak. Given they have been here for two days under our lock and key, and we haven't had any attempts for outside the camp to free them, it is possible they are alone. It might be best to rid ourselves of them."

The interrogator nodded. "Do you wish me to take care of that?"

Clemente pondered this as he lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, slurping the last drop down. He turned to Alma. "Alma, can you pour me another cup, please," he said.

Alma came over and poured a fresh cup of coffee for the Colonel as he turned back to the lead interrogator. "No, let me speak with Patterson before we make a final decision. Can you go and send him over for me," Clemente said. The lead interrogator nodded, and left the cabin.

Clemente finished off the last of his American-style bacon and eggs breakfast while he waited for Patterson to come to the cabin. The colonel may not like Americans in his country, trying to influence the politics, but they sure did know how to make a decent breakfast.

Patterson arrived, walking in the cabin like he owned the place, and sprawling out onto one of the chairs. "Woman, a coffee!" Patterson called out to Alma.

The Colonel winced. He hated that the General had told him to work with this gauche and arrogant American doctor. He found it hard to believe that the Aguila Roja would actual align himself with this American colonial capitalist. Rumours were flying around the camp that Patterson had been running experiments on children in Brazil, and that he had plans to exploit resources from the rain forests for his American drug company. Clemente wondered how much of that money would ever end up flowing back to his country, and how much would wind up lining the safe of Patterson and his American shareholders.

"So, Doctor," Clemente said, a chill in his voice. "It seems the American whores you brought here to pleasure yourself turned out to be quite dangerous. It seems we are lucky that they weren't able to get a message out to the American military, otherwise we would have been overrun by some combined Colombian and American force. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Patterson sneered. "Get over yourself, Clemente. The American girls may be spies, or may not. You actually don't know anything. What I know is that you can blame me, but I didn't lead the American man here. Those were your troops that lead him direct to this camp. The girls have no idea where we are. The American man - who you led here - knows exactly where we are. So I think there is enough blame to get spread around, if you want to start slinging blame."

Clemente took a sip of coffee, his hand shaking. He spoke, almost spitting out his words. "Either way, we need to do something about these spies. You know what one of the girls tells me? She tells me that you plan to take control of the oil wells and refineries in Venezuela. I told her she was crazy, of course. The fight we undertake is to put control of Latin American in the hand of Latin Americans - not so-called 'communist' dictators nor in the hands of American-controlled corporations. You agree, don't you?"

Patterson wasn't even looking at Clemente, instead staring off at the wall. "Don't you worry about what deals that the Aguila Roja and your Generals are making, colonel. I'll remind you that the General was quite clear on that point. Yours is not to wonder why..."

Clemente stood, and his hands slapping the table with more force than he might have liked to reveal. "Fine, Dr. Patterson. I shall just do and die, then. Speaking of dying, what shall we do with the American spies? They seem reluctant to speak."

Patterson stood up and started to walk for the door. "We aren't taking them with us, and we can't let them go. Kill them," Patterson said before letting the door slam behind him.

Clemente growled and stomped to his bedroom in the back of the cabin, shaking and beet-red. Alma started to clear the table, watching as the Colonel walked into his bedroom and slammed the door. Once the door was shut, she dropped the coffee cup she was taking over to the sink back on the table, and rushed out of the hut.

* *

It had been almost a full twenty-four hours since the guards had inexplicably stopped beating on him, and Robert Chambers was feeling much better for it. His hallucinations of sitting in a field with Ria had stopped, and all but a few lingering aches and pains were impacting his body. His shoulders and back, though, were quite cramped from being tied fast against the post in the middle of the cabin, and his legs and ass were cold from having to sit on the dirt floor all night.

Despite his aches and pains, in the night he had drifted off into a deep sleep, his body finally able to catch up on almost five days of nothing but fitful sleeps - first as he followed the convoy through the jungle, and then as the guards kept up a constant barrage of beatings.

While his hallucinations might have stopped, the image of Ria and that field was still in his head, and filled his dreams. In his dreams, he was in that same field, Ria snuggled up tight against him, her arms around his torso, his arms draped over her shoulders, holding her head close to his heart.

"Ria, it is so lovely here," he said.

Ria pulled away from him, and crouched down beside him. "We need to get out of here," she said.

Chambers looked at her with a cock of the head. "What are you taking about? It's so peaceful and lovely here."

"No, no," she said. "It is dangerous. It is only a matter of time until they come to get you. We need to get you out of here."

Chambers gave her a playful push. "Come on, stop joking around and come to me," he said, putting his arms around her and pulling her close. He kissed her on the lips. At first she resisted, but then she relented to his advance, and he felt her tongue in his mouth.

Chambers felt himself slowly coming to, in that small space of time between being in the world of dreams and realizing that it was just a mental mirage. Chambers was slowly coming to the realization that Ria and the field were just a dream, and yet she felt so real in his arms. He lips against his, their tongues touching. Part of him was telling him it was a dream, and yet another part could feel her pressing against him, her hands running down his chest, undoing the button on his khakis.

Chambers broke away from the kiss. "Ria? What are you doing? Are you really here?" Chambers asked. He looked around him. His eyesight was still fuzzy as it adjusted to the real world, but he could tell he was in the cabin in the jungle, still tied to the post.

"Shhh," Ria said.

Only Chambers could tell it wasn't Ria. Her voice wasn't right. He pulled his head further way, and tried to focus on the girl straddling him. She wasn't Ria at all, but she was real. "What the... Who are you?" Chambers asked, his voice cracking.

The girl kissed him on the next, her hand pushing down into his pants and grabbing his morning hard-on. "I am here to save you," she said, speaking in Spanish. "I have been the one taking care of you; washing you, cleaning your wounds. Now I will set you free, and you can take me to the city, so I can start a life away from here."

Chambers, still groggy, said nothing. Instead, he just grunted as he felt the girl squat down onto his hard cock. She wasn't wearing any underwear under her short sun dress, and so Chamber's dick slipped into her pussy. It was wet, but tight. The girl moaned and leaned her head back, arching her back. She wrapped her hands around Chambers neck, and started to pump up and down on his shaft.

Chambers thought of pushing her off, but realized that his hands were still bound behind him. He could do nothing to stop what was happening, so he simply tried to enjoy it.

Alma wrapped her left arm around the post, and put her right hand on Chamber's hard chest. Eyes closed, head tilted towards the ceiling, she thrust herself up and down. She would push herself down onto him, letting Chamber's member fill her completely before she thrust herself up to the point where Chambers almost sprung out of her. She would though, with the tip almost fully released, push herself back down again.

Chambers moaned with pleasure. After days of his only human contact being violence, it felt so good to have a loving and physically pleasurable contact with this girl. Feeling Alma against him, suddenly parts of his memory that had been pressed down came to the fore. The hallucinations of Ria, Chambers suddenly remembered that they weren't Ria at all, but this girl. Her name, she told him, was Alma. She had a gentle touch, and had been the only sweet and decent contact he'd had since being captured. His brain had, in trying to store his memories, turned it into the hallucinatory experience of Ria. Now connected with Alma, though, Chambers remembered the truth.

"Oh, Alma," Chambers said.

Alma started to push up and down on him faster, the animal instincts and passions within her bursting to the fore. Her breathing became fast, shallow grunts. Her eyes rolled back into her head. Her body started to quiver. She was overtaken by her passion. The orgasm gripped her body, and shot waves of pleasure out through her body, like a quake rumbling out from an epicentre deep within her.

Chambers, too, was gripped by his passion. If Alma's was a long, deep quake, Chambers' was an explosion, like a fire splashed with gasoline. An explosion, from within him. His entire body tense, for just a fleeting moment, and then his energy, and with it a load of semen, release from him.