The small-dilapidated hamlet of Junkotown grew closer in view. Captain H’ameneggz glanced down at his maps; just beyond the town was a piece of open ground, and then the BARF main camp.
He looked over at the Commander of the Fighting Jujus as the PT-76s tore through a barren poorly plowed field of some town farmer whose skill at farming seemed to leave a lot to be desired.
“Let’s hope dat deys don’t screw dis up.” He said to himself as he reached for the signal flags. A quick swipe through the air with the red and yellow flags and the attack column broke into town. The Lions wheeled around the right, while the Jujus sped into and through the town streets.
Reconnaissance Jeeps and Scout Cars raced ahead of the tanks looking for any evidence of enemy forces.
Captain B’ustah of the Fighting Jujus grinned as the Golden Lions peeled off and began their swing around the town. The delay of moving around the obstacle instead of through it, would cause him to miss out on the prize…and the reward.
He licked his thick cracked lips and thought about the fun and frolic he could have with the large cash reward for rescuing the silly European newsgirls…
And the scientists and briefcase… He reminded himself.
He cursed slightly as he thought to himself. He had always been able to be distracted by a pretty face, but this time he would keep his mind on his business and kill anyone that stood in the way of him getting what was his.
Suddenly as his tanks began to work their way across a barren field, the dusty white UN vehicles seemed to pour around his left side and take a slight lead ahead of his tanks. He watched as they moved ahead of his tanks and the slowed down at an opening around a small hill.
He looked up ahead. In the distance the BARF camp was in sight!
AT THE BARF CAMP:
Comrade Commander P’uffdiddie looked over the supply list and frowned. What he was being told to provide was nearly impossible in this region. Comrade General T’uba S’alami was asking him to “request” more supplies from the local peasants than they were able to provide.
P’uffdiddie leaned back in the rickety wooden chair and closed his eyes as he sighed deeply. One day soon…he thought to himself. We will emerge victorious and a new rule will be established in Bongolesia; a rule where people will share and share alike. Naturally those of us in charge will get a bigger share, but that’s the way it always isn’t it?
The frantic knocking on the office door suddenly interrupted his daydreaming.
“What is it?” He asked loudly, irritated that his few moments of relaxation was rudely taken away from him.
The young messenger walked in, bowed as required and reported hastily.
“Oh great and glorious commander, it looks like B’wonahs hoodlums are on their way!”
P’uffdiddies face frowned slightly. He could sense the fear in this young mans voice. ”Do not be afraid soldier. Go to your post and prepare for battle, we shall do our duty and emerge victorious!”
P’uffdiddie smiled as he could see the young mans fear on his face vanish and an eagerness for battle replace it. The soldier saluted, and turned to leave.
“Comrade Private.” P’uffdiddie said.
“You forgot to bow when you were leaving.” P’uffdiddie said quietly.
“Sorry comrade general. It won’t happen again.”
P’uffdiddie nodded as the soldier left. Of course not. He said to himself as the sounds of the base camp preparing for battle suddenly began. That is why, AFTER the battle, you will only receive five lashings with the whip. Discipline and Protocol MUST be maintained and expected at all times…
Fortunately for the young private it was the last time he would ever see Comrade Commander P’uffdiddie…
Major Merchant wasn’t happy.
He grunted unhappily each time his jeep seemed to bounce in one of the countless holes and ruts on the ruined dirt trail that the Bongolesians seemed intent on calling a road. He looked up from his map to view the trucks that he had gotten from “local sources” to carry his troops and weapons teams. Two of the vehicles seemed to be on their last legs. Even Cpl “Hotwire” Jenkins had had trouble trying to get them to start and keep running for any long amount of time. They would simply just stop running as if they had a temperamental mind of their own.
“Looks like we might got the jump on ‘em sir!” his driver said over the roar of the jeep engine.
Merchant nodded. He was remembering the contract details for payments. “Rescue the Scientists. Rescue the Bongolesium. Grab the Girls if he could for a “bonus”. All in a good days work he thought.
His mind snapped back out of its reverie by the sudden snap crack sound followed by an explosion up ahead. The troop trucks suddenly swerved off the road. Most turned left and sought cover at the halfway constructed airfield. A tired old C-47 sat on the mostly level rough ground near a small building. The troops began unloading quickly while one of the other trucks took a hard right and fought a hiding place between a series of storage tanks.
Merchant saw the signs on the tanks. Two were from Petroco, and the other two were from Perverticus Industries. Their conditions left a lot to be desired.
The men began unloading from the truck and taking cover.
“Crikey Major! That’s not a good place for the men to dig in!” The jeep driver yelled as he pulled the jeep off the road and sought cover. Merchant took a quick glance down the road. In the distance he could see a tank, and what seemed to be an IFV…
“Tell me Jeeves, did our briefing say ANYTHING about the enemy having tanks and possibly BMPS???” Merchant asked his driver, while trying not to yell. Jeeves shook his head. “No Sir…nuttin’ at all.”
“That’s what I thought.” Merchant muttered to himself. Suddenly this “easy” job seemed not that easy anymore.
AT THE BARF CAMP:
Comrade Commander P’uffdiddie listened on the radio as his Tank Commander reported engaging the mercenaries. “They are hiding around the airport and the storage tanks Comrade Commander. Your orders sir?”
“Move in and destroy them.” He responded.
The radio crackled for a moment. “Sir I would follow your orders, but the engine on my tank seems to be having problems again. It runs, then stops, runs, then stops.”
P’uffdiddie cursed. The few tanks that BARF had seemed to be plagued with maintenance problems.
“Very well, get your tank running when you can. In the meantime do you see a big fuel truck there?”
“Yes Comrade Commander.”
“Good. Then shoot the fuel truck and roast the mercenaries like so much cheap lunch meat.” P’uffdiddie instructed.
The BARF Tank commander looker up into his sights and began searching for a new target for his gunner. With most of the mercenaries taking cover behind the building he was wondering what to shoot, when the gunner suddenly began screaming. “They have a Recoilless Rifle!”
“SHOOT IT!” The tank commander screamed back.
The crack from the T55 main gun sent a high explosive shell directly on target and the mercenaries with their recoilless rifle, simply ceased to exist.
“Bloody Hell!” Merchant screamed as he watched his RR team evaporate. He looked over at Jeeves. “NOBODY TOLD US ABOUT TANKS!!!”
Jeeves nodded and leaned back a bit. He knew that when the Major got this way he tended to drool and spit a lot.
The BARF Tank commander grinned. A well placed shot had taken out the soldiers for hire white devils. He spun the turret to the right. “Do you see that big new shiny truck full of aviation fuel?” He asked the gunner.
“Yes I do!”
“The shoot that. Let’s make it hot for them.”
The T55’s gun cracked again and for the mercenaries someone set off the worlds biggest flash bulb.
Luckily the building covered the majority of the group, but the first squad simply dissolved in the fireball screaming.
Captain B’ustah looked over to his left. He could see troops scattered about and a large fireball rising into the sky. He grinned as he saw targets of opportunity.
“Gunner, swing left and put a shell into one of those storage tanks.” He said.
The gunner traversed left and a moment later the gun of the PT-76 spit forth a shell.
The shell ripped into a storage tank of Perverticus Industries. Immediately from the opening a large spreading black cloud poured out and began to settle on the mercenaries there.
“Crikey Major! The NDF is shooting at us also!” Jeeves yelled.
Merchant turned to see the black cloud settle down on the men taking cover behind the storage tank. Suddenly he could hear coughing and choking, as the men gasped for air. These gasps were then punctuated by screams.
“What…the…bloody…hell?” Merchant babbled to himself.
His questions were answered when forms emerged from the cloud. Where his men had been, SUDDENLY, came the slow shuffling forms of the newly undead…zombies.
“Oh hell…SHOOT THEM NOW!” Merchant screamed.
A mercenary squad opened up on them, sending bullets into newly formed undead flesh and causing the bodies to hit the ground and flop until they were all suddenly still. Each corpse then took a long burst to the skull, “just in case”.