Dillon is making his way through the jungle when he loses his footing from a loose log and ends up on his rear. Dillon at once goes into a defensive position, listening. The jungle is silent. He stands and starts to move forward.
Suddenly Mac appears within inches of Dillon's face. Mac's expression is menacing, angry.
Mac: You're ghostin' us, motherfucker. I don't care who you are back in the world, you give away our position one more time, I'll bleed ya, real quiet. Leave ya here. Got that?
Dillon's eyes are wide and fixed, staring back in cold hatred at Mac, controlling his rage . . . he knows the rules. Not waiting for a response, Mac turns and vanished into the jungle. Seething with anger, Dillon moves on.
The assault team moves cautiously into defensive positions upon Schaefer's signal. Holding. Schaefer belly crawls silently through the grass just outside and above the main entrance to a Guerrilla village, a huge, spreading Palapa covering implacements dug into a hillside. He looks over the camp through binoculars.
He studies the ancient, rusted skeleton of a truck parked on a level spot above the camp, its engine quietly idling. The truck is jacked and blocked up, one rear wheel attached to a belt-drive leading to a pump, drawing water from a river nearby.
Several men, dressed in a mixture of jungle fatigues and civilian clothes, armed with AK-47 Assault Rifles move about the camp. A heavy machine gun emplacement guards the entrance to the camp. Two men sit in the camouflaged emplacement.
A sudden muffled cry brings Schaefer's attention to one end of the camp. A hostage, shirtless, hands tied behind his back. The man's battered face indicate he has been severely tortured. Emerging from the palapa, a Guerilla leader wearing a sidearm, approaches the beaten man, kicking him viciously in the stomach.
Standing beside the man he withdraws an automatic from his holster and cocks the hammer. Grabbing the man by the hair he jams the muzzle into the man's temple and with a violent twist, pulls the trigger. The guerrilla leader stands and strides quickly back to the palapa.
Schaefer grim-faced at having witnesses the murder, lowers his glasses, a look of cold determination on his face.
Schaefer makes a circling motion with his thumb and the team members gather in close, huddle formation. Dutch tells his team the rebels just killed one of the prisoners. No time, they must take them now. Blain and Mac crawl silently through the underbrush.
With silent stealth, Blain and Mac move through the underbrush in tandem, like two big cats, stalking. Blain freezes, the sweat pouring from his face, holds up his hand. A metal trip wire, connected to a hidden Claymore mine. He carefully cuts the wire after disabling the Claymore's trigger.
Billy rises up, pulling a sentry to him, covering his mouth with his hand, jerking him backwards and killing him with his combat knife.
At the machine gun emplacement, while one Guerrilla attends to his equipment, the other attentively watches the the camp. He hears something to his side. Turning to investigate, Mack yanks him down and kills him with his knife. Simultaneously, Blain rises up behind the other man, pulling him down, his combat knife driving downward. Watching from above, Dillon gives Dutch the go ahead signal.
Looking at the truck, Dutch comes up with a new plan, he uses his commando machete on a diagonal, pushing through the belt, slicing it cleanly. A satchel charge is placed in the back. Dutch moves silently to the rear of the truck.
Dutch squats, and with an enormous, concentrated effort, deadlifts the rear of the truck. With a herculean effort he lifts the truck free of its blocks and then pushes forward. He rolls aside, disappearing into the ground cover as the truck, its tireless rims digging into the earth, lops down the hill, slowly picking up speed.
A Guerrilla, alerted by the sound of the approaching truck, calls out and another Guerrilla moves out to prepare to stop the truck. The truck rolls into the clearing picking up speed, heading towards the main palapa. The man manages to get in the truck, but too late, it smashes through the wall of the palapa.
Watching the truck, Dutch readies a grenade. The satchel charge in the truck detonates with an ear-splitting explosion, tearing the truck apart. Schaefer pulls the pin and launches the grenade into the air.
It spirals dead-center into the camp's fuel dump, it explodes into an incredible fireball. Dutch fires the undermounted grenade launcher at the Guerillas, igniting them in a wall of flames. Ramirez also blasts a round from his grenade launcher with another fiery explosion. The Guerillas are being attacked from all angles. They are firing in every direction aimlessly.
Schaefer begins firing several rounds, the bullets finding their target on a couple of Guerillas. He races down the hillside, joined by Dillon, leaving Hawkins to cover them. Bullets burst around their feet as they run low, firing short bursts to his left and right. Still running he breaks open the breach, slamming in another 40mm round from the cartridge pack at his waist.
Shchaefer's team fire their weapons, laying down a withering curtain of lead, shredding the camp, taking out five Guerrillas at once. Ramirez cuts loose a barrage from the six-shooter . . . seconds later the machine gun emplacement erupts in a series of explosions, blowing two Guerrillas into the air.
Meanwhile, Blain, circling around from below, Guerrillas fire a grenade round which explodes behind Blain, fragments ripping into his upper shoulder. The hits have no effect on the huge man, he spits his chew, opening fire, raking the two attackers with the Mini-gun.
A man almost completely on fire is hit by an onslaught of gunfire, ripping him back into the jungle. Dillon riddles his flaming body with bullets as the Guerilla involuntarily triggers his machine gun aimlessly.
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