Operation Fortnight

Drei: Ein tag in der Amazon

10949 0700hrs

Along the border of the Amazon Rainforest, Brazil. 

We touched down in Belem at 0600 to resupply and from there it was another hour til we arrived in Manau. From there we would be canoeing into the heart of the matter. Our pilot, Trolley, gave us his usual "Whenever you call, baby, I'll roll up" coupled with the expected silly crack and boyish charm.

I knew that if we were going to be heading into the Amazon, I was going to need to have a chance of survival, and while I could just as easily have just done some quick research on the matter, I had this pressing feeling that we didn't have that kind of time to waste. With that thought in mind, I took the liberty of calling ahead for a trusted ally, someone whose extensive knowledge and experience would prove invaluable to us, who were in fact foreigners to the region. In a moment of particular clarity, I had the presence of mind to ask her exactly what sort of gear would be appropriate to wear in the tropics, and thus, I was appropriately prepared for the sudden burst of wet heat which greeted me the moment I stepped off the jet. 

Just as warm, however, was the welcome we all received from the sun-kissed tan skin, the short-cropped sand-colored hair, the green and yellow camo jungle suit that clung tight the skin, and most memorable of all, the calm, mud-colored eyes that belonged to none other than the resident survivalist whom I had come to know as Sequoia. 

She was already waiting at the drop zone when my German self, as well as representatives from France, America, and Russia, along with our pilot from Spain, of course.

You might say that ours was a colorful bunch.  

"Olá. Tudo Bom?"

Sequoia's voice was cheery as ever, the translation chip in my headset immediately intervening so that even though she spoke on long bursts of portuguese, I still understood it as english. Such translation intervention technology was standard issue for agents of our caliber, which meant that she had one too. It was an especially necessary component for my team in particular, since we featured such an ethnically diverse roster. Only two of us actually claim english as a first language. 

"I trust your journey was restful? It's nice to see you again. Last time I had the pleasure of your company, the two of us were almost buried alive under the ancient stonework of the jaguar people." 

I reply quickly before the blonde Parisian to my left can have a chance to open his mouth and let something truly offensive fall out. I could tell just by the look on his face what was on his mind. 

"I've been busy trying to keep the world from falling apart at the seams. Or, at least that's what my uppers tell me. One can never really be sure of just what exactly the people in command might be planning for people like us. I could be scheduled to assassinate the president tomorrow for all I know."

"It happens. And your friends?" 

"Colleagues, more like. This is Corduroy. He's our explosives expert. I brought him along in case anything happens that would require a bomb squad. Tall, dark, and handsome over there is Rivets. He's our close quarters guy. His bearded compatriot is Lockstock, heavy weapons. I just got this feeling that we're going to need them, you know how it is." 

Sequoia nodded, and shook each of their hands. She also took an extra long moment to feel up Rivets and Lockstock's bulging biceps, all the while cooing affectionately, which I'm certain made 290 pound Corduroy feel awfully insignificant. 

As much as I enjoyed watching the Frenchman squirm, we didn't have time for that kind of frivolity. If we didn't get to the bottom of this whole nuclear fiasco... we just really couldn't take that chance.