Back Door To Hell
by
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Chispa and Adan dragged the bodies off the trail. Lejano chopped tree branches with his machete, making stakes. Jim stopped by the body with no head, just a bloody stump with uneven edges of the neck. This was the Sandinista who ‘lost his face’.
“Grab his legs,” Johnny told Jim. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”
“What are those stakes for?” Jim asked.
Johnny did not answer, but the hacking sounds coming from behind, exactly like those in the butcher shop, did.
“Why?!”
“Psychological warfare.” Joe stood right behind Jim. “Go and give’m a hand.”
“…malgastando la cabeza,” Chispa lamented.
At least one of them has human feelings and remorse of what they’ve done, Jim thought.
“What did he say?” He asked Joe.
“He is complaining that Johnny wasted one head, now we have only five.” Joe turned to the busy Indians. “Rapido, rapido!”
People die of old age, due to illness, in accidents, and in wars, and each death brings pain to the loved ones, family and friends, each death is a very significant event. Jim was brought up believing that to be true. And suddenly, here, in the jungle, six deaths that he had witnessed had no significance at all. The whole thing boiled down to simple arithmetic: twelve lives minus six equals six lives – a very impartial and cruel jungle equation.
But that was only a beginning, what followed defied description. Jim watched the scene with magnetized fascination. He found himself captivated by the cool savagery of the process, its shameless efficiency, and the cynical composure of the participants. These men broke the mold of civilization, they invalidated all commandments, they defied gods!
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About the Book
If you do not wish to know anything about hell, DO NOT READ THIS BOOK, drop it. It is not for the fainthearted. If you open it, it is like a mine field: you walk through it, trip over a wrong sentence, and suddenly “BOOM!..” – you’re hooked on the wrong book.
Be prepared then to know what you might encounter in the world of mercenaries. Find out what people do for money, or just for thrill of adventure. Look inside yourself, discover the secrets we conceal from others… and often from ourselves.
As you join the TRAG (Top Risk Action Group) team on a mission to
Then you are in the jungle of
“Johnny stood up and advanced alone. Jim watched him lower the barrel of his M-60 machine gun and make a stew out of a wounded Sandinista. Another one, still capable of raising his arms, sat up in the grass. Johnny leveled his deadly tool. What was it that Dr. Kuebler-Ross said about the stages of death? ‘Anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.’ All nonsense. Here, in the jungle, the stages of death were: shock, stupor, panic, pleading, and resignation. Jim read this chilling sequence in the face of the doomed Sandinista. Johnny pulled the trigger, and there was no more face at all – just flying splinters of shattered bone, shreds of torn flesh, gobs of splashed brain matter, and a pink mist…”
No, the mission is terrifyingly real, Joe is a seasoned commander, Johnny is a true professional, and Jim is a Guinea pig in the experiment of life. You want to know what hell is? Look through Jim’s eyes.
About the Author
The author was once a member of TRAG, an international mercenary organization comprised of the world’s top specialists in the art of modern war. A team is selected for each mission. They can accomplish any task offered on the international mercenary market. Assassinating demagogues, quelling insurrections, rescuing kidnap victims… You name it, they do it. Or they die. Outsiders call them the “suicide squad”.
Sounds noble, doesn’t it? It is, sometimes. But most of the time, it is cruel, dirty, cynical, deceitful, greedy, merciless, and generally very frightening.
Someone asked the author, how could he join an organization like that? Surprisingly, he could not answer. He just said, “I was young and stupid.” That’s no answer. How about, “I was a bad dude, and I still am.”?
Perhaps the book could shed some light on the issue.