Chapter 9

Crawling into the hot mud and muck of the steamy depression momentarily took Lt. Tracy Parker's breath away. Before she continued, she decided she would take stock of what she had accomplished and what was left to do before she had to meet up with her sub at 0415 the next morning. Even in the pitch blackness of the stormy, moonless night, Tracy could see that all around she was surrounded by a fog of heated mists and steam. There was no relief from the heat; it was dark and 95 humid degrees.

Mired in this mud pit, she was covered in 110 degree muck. The constant heat sapped her strength and kept her light-headed. On her feet, this could make Tracy less effective; in the water, it could make her critically more clumsy. She had no idea that this ended up being fatal to the first SOU to attempt entry into the island fortress, Lt. Patty Monroe.

Patty Monroe was a pretty blond from Georgia; she had an oval face with large blue eyes, long, light lashes, a pointed nose and full lips; and when she smiled, everyone agreed that it lit up the room. Physically one of the most impressive women to have completed SOU training, she was 5'10" tall, with a solid 37D bust, 24" waist and 33" hips. Tanned and muscular, Monroe was the best swimmer and climber in Tracy's class; the obstacle course, designed to stop lesser men and women, didn't pose a problem for Patty. She still held the record for its fastest completion. And she was the logical first choice for the difficult approach to the island.

Patty's entry into the island was much easier than Tracy's. Still, the relentless heat and humidity, combined with the physical effort required to get into the underground compound had left her exhausted and slower than usual. But, she was on schedule and had already moved into a storage room near the bomb's location when she walked into a trap set by Jamal's mistress Justine Loudon.

Justine lay in waiting behind a stack of crates in the far end of a darkened corridor leading from Patty's location to the room that held Aziz's bomb. Her large, lovely dark eyes gazed down the darkened hall towards the dimly lit entrance at the other end. She had left Jamal to attend to an assassination in progress in the Left Bank; he controlled the actions of his operatives around the world from a communications center near the above-ground entrance to the terrorist stronghold. "I promise I'll join you later, my love," Aziz promised. Justine would handle the American intruder in her capacity as Jamal's second and because she wanted to enjoy killing someone; it had been nearly 2 months since she had taken part in a killing. Justine found that she was stimulated by the violence; it left her breathless and shivering in the end to personally take part in ending a person's life. The more violent and painful, the more she seemed to relish it. Jamal had been impressed by her talents. And she considered herself a craftsman in the art of inflicting pain.

Halfway down the darkened corridor, a booby trap, of sorts, waited for the unsuspecting Patty. 2 spear guns were loaded and carefully aimed to strike whomever crossed into their line of fire at midriff level -- one sat to the right, the other on the left. The resulting effect would be to impale the target with crisscrossing spears intersecting somewhere within the body of the unfortunate target. This would not cause immediate death, but immediate and debilitating pain; the victim would be barely able to move and act, each breath would be agonizing and the pain would allow Justine the opportunity to selectively stage the death of her victim.

Jamal was convinced that any act of defiance against him should be met with brutal retribution; he meant to convey a message to any person or government that tried to stop him that said: "This is the way I deal with your stupidity." He was intent on humiliation and intimidation; Justine loved it.

Patty crept into the entrance to the corridor. She knew that at the other end was the probable site of the bomb. She didn't know what type it would be; but she knew it would have to be disabled. The corridor was hot and she was slightly light-headed and dizzy; her still wet body dripped with perspiration; her long blond hair was tied up on top of her head. Sweat rolled from her chest and into the swimsuit top and along and around her large, round breasts. She held a pistol in her right hand. As she moved slowly forward, her hips, barely covered by the bottom half of her bikini, moved smoothly from side to side; her footprints reflected in the dim lights of the room behind her. Her heart pounded quietly. Lt. Monroe felt something wasn't quite right, too late. As she reached the middle of the corridor, she had just noticed in the hot haze that distracted her mind a slight brushing of her left ankle on something when all hell broke loose.

The air was forced out of Patty's lungs as 2 spears struck her on either side of her lower rib cage, the razor sharp heads passing completely through her and protruding in a sickly bloodiness from her sides; they had intersected just as Justine had hoped directly below Patty's diaphragm without causing immediate death. Although, blood immediately began to fill Patty's abdomen; only trickles were seen from the entry and exit points. The metal of the 2 spears inside of Patty clicked as she straightened and tried to breath, reflexively grabbing at her sides in complete shock as spasms of agony contorted her face. Patty swayed on her feet; she wanted to catch her breath, to run, to fight, but her insides were on fire and pain completely obscured her vision and her mind.

Justine stood up and smiled at the beautiful, suffering blond. Dressed in a halter top that tightly held her large, round bosom, Justine wore denim shorts, was bare legged, and sported leather sandals. In her hands was an AK-47 -- the most popular terrorist automatic weapon. In the clip were 50 rounds of Swiss clad bullets. "My dear," Justine cooed to Patty, "you'll wish you'd never seen this island. You'll wish you had never been born." With that she released a spray of a dozen rounds that caught Patty in a line from her left pelvis, diagonally across her abdomen, and across the right breast. Patty's body recoiled, shaking from taking the multiple rounds and fell backwards. As she did, she somehow swung her body around and landed fully on her chest. The spear heads clacked on the hard, bloody concrete floor. The impact caused Patty to grunt loudly; the pain of the weight of her body against the spear heads caused her to convulse. Blood was gurgling up through Patty's throat and dribbling out of her mouth.