says smiling.
‘Lobo is no fool,’ replies Yuma. ‘He will travel all night and only sleep when the sun rises in the land of the Matte .’ The four men watch the native girl wolf down her food while they smoke.
‘I think she has a tapeworm the size of a small Anaconda,’ observes Apari. ‘What tribe are you from?’ Chevez asks the girl. The famished girl answers between mouthfuls, ‘The Toa Xaxua people – we are river-dwellers.’
‘I know your tribe,’ replies Yuma. ‘They are fish and turtle-eaters, on the Santos Xaxua River. How did Lobo capture you?’
‘José caught me. I was washing in the river,’ answers the girl. ‘He is bad man, always pulling my tits. They were going to give me to the Matte tribe.’
‘Ah, those Matte cowards like tender young girls to eat!’ Rondo replies.
The Toa Xaxua girl gets up and enters the jungle.
‘I think she’s going for a crap,’ remarks Apari, craning his neck, ‘to make more room for food.’
‘Not bad tits for a fish-eater,’ says Yuma. ‘Nice and small, just a good handful. What do you think, Chevez?’
‘My wife, Maria, has better,’ Chevez answers, deep in thought.
‘That’s because we, the Invisible People,’ adds Rondo, ‘make our women work hard. It makes their tits firm, with nipples that stand proud.’
‘I must tell Maria that,’ Chevez answers.
‘No,’ protests Rondo. ‘She has a temper!’
The Toa Xaxua girl returns and sits by the fire and continues eating.
‘Are we leading the white soldiers into the Boa Santos swamps again, Chevez?’ Apari asks. ‘My balls still itch from those leech and mosquito bites.’
‘No,’ replies Chevez. ‘These white soldiers will not keep following us – they are too clever and have learned their lesson. They will try something else soon.’
‘Maybe Lobo killed the soldiers – there was much shooting,’ Yuma suggests.
‘Maybe,’ replies Chevez, ‘but today we all saw signs of the Cat-people heading north. If they find the secret crossing over the Japari River, our women will not be safe.’
‘The Cat-men have come north looking for man-meat!’ Yuma declares.
‘The three of you should return tonight,’ suggests Chevez. ‘Take the girl with you – her village is on the way. Give these supplies and medicine to my wife, Maria – she is sick. Tapia, her sister, is still looking after her – tell her I will be back soon.’ Chevez hands over his shoulder bag.
‘What will you do, Chevez?’ Rondo asks.
‘I will try to kill one more white soldier – the Japari river crossing will kill another – the jungle will kill the last one!’
Back at Lobo’s abandoned camp, the three SAS troopers are unaware of the impending danger from the Cat-people and sit around an abandoned fire. José is recovering from his flesh wound.
‘Let me slit his throat now, Jim,’ asks Dublin. ‘I don’t like the look of him.’
‘No, Frank, he may have useful information.’
‘What’s your name?’ asks Kane, while helping José up into a sitting position and giving him a drink.
‘José Pedro Jesús López, Señor.’
‘Do you work for Lobo?’
‘He is my patron, Señor. If I don’t work for him, he kill me.’
‘Is Lobo the biggest patron here?’
‘Oh no, Señor – the Columbian patrons are. They come across the border, make cocaine and mine gold in illegal mines.’
‘Who were the soldiers?’
‘Columbian army, Señor. They buy cocaine and gold and capture women for their brothels.’
‘Do you know Chevez?’ demands Dublin, toying with his knife.
José nods nervously; his cocaine rush is now wearing off. He looks longingly at the packet of powder in Kane’s top pocket.
‘Was Chevez here tonight?’ Dublin demands.
José nods and looks around tentatively into the jungle blackness.
‘He’s scared of something, Sarge!’ Lacy says.
‘What are you afraid of?’ Kane asks.
‘Nothing, Señor,’ answers José. ‘Let me return to my wife and seven hungry
‘Lobo is no fool,’ replies Yuma. ‘He will travel all night and only sleep when the sun rises in the land of the Matte .’ The four men watch the native girl wolf down her food while they smoke.
‘I think she has a tapeworm the size of a small Anaconda,’ observes Apari. ‘What tribe are you from?’ Chevez asks the girl. The famished girl answers between mouthfuls, ‘The Toa Xaxua people – we are river-dwellers.’
‘I know your tribe,’ replies Yuma. ‘They are fish and turtle-eaters, on the Santos Xaxua River. How did Lobo capture you?’
‘José caught me. I was washing in the river,’ answers the girl. ‘He is bad man, always pulling my tits. They were going to give me to the Matte tribe.’
‘Ah, those Matte cowards like tender young girls to eat!’ Rondo replies.
The Toa Xaxua girl gets up and enters the jungle.
‘I think she’s going for a crap,’ remarks Apari, craning his neck, ‘to make more room for food.’
‘Not bad tits for a fish-eater,’ says Yuma. ‘Nice and small, just a good handful. What do you think, Chevez?’
‘My wife, Maria, has better,’ Chevez answers, deep in thought.
‘That’s because we, the Invisible People,’ adds Rondo, ‘make our women work hard. It makes their tits firm, with nipples that stand proud.’
‘I must tell Maria that,’ Chevez answers.
‘No,’ protests Rondo. ‘She has a temper!’
The Toa Xaxua girl returns and sits by the fire and continues eating.
‘Are we leading the white soldiers into the Boa Santos swamps again, Chevez?’ Apari asks. ‘My balls still itch from those leech and mosquito bites.’
‘No,’ replies Chevez. ‘These white soldiers will not keep following us – they are too clever and have learned their lesson. They will try something else soon.’
‘Maybe Lobo killed the soldiers – there was much shooting,’ Yuma suggests.
‘Maybe,’ replies Chevez, ‘but today we all saw signs of the Cat-people heading north. If they find the secret crossing over the Japari River, our women will not be safe.’
‘The Cat-men have come north looking for man-meat!’ Yuma declares.
‘The three of you should return tonight,’ suggests Chevez. ‘Take the girl with you – her village is on the way. Give these supplies and medicine to my wife, Maria – she is sick. Tapia, her sister, is still looking after her – tell her I will be back soon.’ Chevez hands over his shoulder bag.
‘What will you do, Chevez?’ Rondo asks.
‘I will try to kill one more white soldier – the Japari river crossing will kill another – the jungle will kill the last one!’
Back at Lobo’s abandoned camp, the three SAS troopers are unaware of the impending danger from the Cat-people and sit around an abandoned fire. José is recovering from his flesh wound.
‘Let me slit his throat now, Jim,’ asks Dublin. ‘I don’t like the look of him.’
‘No, Frank, he may have useful information.’
‘What’s your name?’ asks Kane, while helping José up into a sitting position and giving him a drink.
‘José Pedro Jesús López, Señor.’
‘Do you work for Lobo?’
‘He is my patron, Señor. If I don’t work for him, he kill me.’
‘Is Lobo the biggest patron here?’
‘Oh no, Señor – the Columbian patrons are. They come across the border, make cocaine and mine gold in illegal mines.’
‘Who were the soldiers?’
‘Columbian army, Señor. They buy cocaine and gold and capture women for their brothels.’
‘Do you know Chevez?’ demands Dublin, toying with his knife.
José nods nervously; his cocaine rush is now wearing off. He looks longingly at the packet of powder in Kane’s top pocket.
‘Was Chevez here tonight?’ Dublin demands.
José nods and looks around tentatively into the jungle blackness.
‘He’s scared of something, Sarge!’ Lacy says.
‘What are you afraid of?’ Kane asks.
‘Nothing, Señor,’ answers José. ‘Let me return to my wife and seven hungry
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