Ilovethebush
Banned
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2005
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JONES’ REVENGE
Brazilian Rainforest, Brazil
Jones woke up in a dreadful state, there was blood exiting every perceivable aurophis and he was sweating like a black man on a rape charge. He tried hard to comprehend what had taken place only moments earlier. His supposed friends and fellow SAS members had turned their backs on him in a nasty and violent way leaving him within an inch of his life stranded in an almost uninhabitable region of the Brazilian rainforest. He slowly hauled himself to his feet using his last morsels of strength, his eyes were roaring with anger but his mind was more focused on the situation he faced. He had logically deduced that his body was close to shutting down and he was in dire need of re-energising nourishment. Luckily he was positioned but 10 yards from a riverbed and using his vast geographical knowledge knew that food would not be far away. His ingenious mind found a way of adapting to his surroundings rapidly and he quickly concocted an instrument for fishing out of a long stick and the vines of a nearby tree
His makeshift device resulted in a more than satisfactory banquet, which gave him the energy to walk around and patch up his wounds. Jones knew he would now have to direct his attentions to finding his way out of the copious amounts of jungle that lay before him. This situation was no new predicament for the experienced SAS man, he had encountered conditions like this on numerous occasions, mostly accompanied by his right hand man general Girard. Girard was a worthy accomplice in situations like these due to his unparalleled knowledge of the jungles and their inhabitants. His depth of knowledge had been accumulated as a result of his young 16-year-old mother dumping him in the Sudanese jungle as a baby. In truth he was raised by the monkeys, this taught him a lot and accounted for his ape like appearance and pugnacious aroma. Unfortunately for Jones, Girard had been killed in mysterious circumstances only a month prior to this day. He was now under the impression that Girard had met the same fate that he had nearly experienced
It took Jones around 3 days to navigate the treacherous jungle routes, encountering various breeds of deadly animals. He found it hard to pilot his way without the help of his darkened sidekick, but he soldiered on anyway and finally reached a small mountain town where he commandeered a primitive form of transport. With this he managed to finally find his way to the city where he new he had contacts that could enable him safe passage out of the country. Jones had a reliable contact in the heart of the city that he had used on numerous occasions. His name was Don Mohan, a dishevelled looking individual whose body was covered almost completely in hair, his appearance was short and he was of a balding complexion with a large protruding nose. Mohan was a an ex US marine who had been dishonourably discharged after sexually assaulting a 14 year old African girl while on duty in Zimbabwe, he had then fled to brazil in hope of a peaceful life
Jones was not a great admirer of Mohan and his paedophilic nature but he did have his uses. He was a great forger who could copy any document known to man. Jones hoped he could produce a fake passport, which would get him safely out the country to a place free of danger. Mohan lived in one of the poorest areas of Rio in a dark dreary alleyway with little in the way of street lighting. Jones approached the house cautiously aware that his betrayers may have staked out the building in order to cover all foreseeable events. As he got close he heard the distinctive noise of a door opening, instinctively diving for cover he noticed a large well-built man exiting the confines of the building. Immediately Jones knew who it was, it was none other than Mark Cyprus one of his former friends and comrade. Cyprus and Jones had joined the SAS at pretty much the same time in their lives, although they were from completely dissimilar backgrounds. Cyprus had been groomed for the armed forces all of his life, as his father was a high-ranking officer in the British army. He was a posh boy who had everything handed to him on a plate; contrary to this Jones had grown up the hard way in a small rough mining town in the heart of Yorkshire with very little in the way of encouragement. He had worked for all his life to get where he was now
Seeing Cyprus standing there angered Jones. He stepped out from where he was perched behind a bin and stood face to face with Cyprus
Jones; ‘ Sergeant Cyprus, my day of revenge has come rather sooner than I expected. I suppose you are somewhat surprised to see me.’ Cyprus stood slightly aghast for a minute before he spoke
Cyprus; ‘ I guess we underestimated you didn’t we, you are clearly more resilient than we gave you credit for’
Jones; ‘ Logic would clearly deduce that.’ Jones smiled somewhat as he spoke knowing the whole time that the only feasible conclusion to this affair would be the death of one of the two parties
Cyprus; ‘ I’ll have to make sure that I don’t make the same mistake again then wont I.’
Quickly Cyprus reached for his Bowie that he kept in his side leg pocket, Jones although still not fully rehabilitated managed to evade the strike without difficulty and gave a retaliatory punch, which was easily knocked away by his opponent. As Jones and Cyprus had trained together on countless occasions both men knew the others fighting style and moves as if their own.
‘You know you’ll never get the better of me Jones, you are a has-been and I’ve always had the beating of you my Northern friend’ Cyprus quipped as he thrashed at Jones once more with knife. At this point Jones was tired and he knew that his death would be imminent unless he did something to thwart his adversary soon. Jones stood for a minute and gathered all his strength before striking Cyprus with a beautifully précised chop to the jugular. Cyprus slowly fell to the ground shrieking with pain like a little child, he quickly began convulsing on the ground before lying motionless. It was clear to Jones at this point that Cyprus was no longer a problem to him
After dumping Cypus’ body in the bin he had originally hidden behind, Jones entered Mohan’s dwelling. Not to his great surprise he found Mohan’s body slumped over his desk. He had a bullet between his eyes, on his desks were passports and papers from all different countries along with pornographic material of what Jones perceived to be under aged girls. He then proceeded to methodically scan the area for materials that would be of use to him. In the desk was a Gloch 13 c gun, which would probably be of great use to him as well as a number of passports. In the background he heard the sound of what appeared to be the police. This perturbed him greatly as the last thing he needed to do was explain why he was in a room with a dead body and illegal pornography. That was a situation he had faced far too often in the past.
Jones exited the building via a back window in order to evade the local law enforcement, he ran quickly down the street until the sirens could be heard no longer, his pace slowed to a quaint stroll and he began to soak up the surroundings that enveloped him. Out of nowhere a little tiny child ran up to Jones and tugged upon his arm.
Jones: ‘What’s your name little girl, and what appears to be your problem’
The girl then explained her situation; her name was Sabreena Kebabi and she was but 12 years old. She was one of the smallest girls Jones had ever laid eyes on, her face was somewhat disfigured and of a dirty Asian type colour. The girl had gone on to explain how she was a local prostitute and she was with Mohan when he got shot. The fact that she was a prostitute disturbed Jones thoroughly but he let her continue
Kebabi; ‘These two men just came in and shot him in the head’ she spoke quickly and nervously ‘I managed to hide in the bathroom and they never saw me thankfully’ The conversation led Jones to deduce that there was another assailant on the loose. He did the honourable thing and cut the girls throat for three reasons. 1) She had seen too much and could disclose his identity, 2) He abhorred her life as a prostitute and thought it better she was dead and 3) She had a rather annoying voice that grated on him severely
The conversation with the girl had left Jones on tenterhooks; he knew there was at least one man out there who had no intention of letting him leave Rio alive
Braker Street, England
In a dark cold room in the central slums of London sat Jermaine Girard philosophising about what he was to do. Girard was presumed dead by many but little did they know he was very much alive and was indeed also plotting revenge against those that had blighted his life. In the month since his supposed death Girard had managed to return to England and break into an old abandoned house, which he made his centre of operations. His aim was to find out why his fellow SAS members had left him for dead and get to the bottom of this whole conspiracy. Girard using his valuable skills and resources gathered in his years as an SAS member had managed to put together a few pieces of the intrinsic puzzle that lay before him. Girard had managed to hack into important defence documents and what he saw shocked him. His closest ally Jones was about to be eliminated in the same fashion as that planned for Girard himself. Girard ran from his squalid building and got on the first plane towards Brazil. He had no intention of letting this treachery occur.
Brazilian Rainforest, Brazil
Jones woke up in a dreadful state, there was blood exiting every perceivable aurophis and he was sweating like a black man on a rape charge. He tried hard to comprehend what had taken place only moments earlier. His supposed friends and fellow SAS members had turned their backs on him in a nasty and violent way leaving him within an inch of his life stranded in an almost uninhabitable region of the Brazilian rainforest. He slowly hauled himself to his feet using his last morsels of strength, his eyes were roaring with anger but his mind was more focused on the situation he faced. He had logically deduced that his body was close to shutting down and he was in dire need of re-energising nourishment. Luckily he was positioned but 10 yards from a riverbed and using his vast geographical knowledge knew that food would not be far away. His ingenious mind found a way of adapting to his surroundings rapidly and he quickly concocted an instrument for fishing out of a long stick and the vines of a nearby tree
His makeshift device resulted in a more than satisfactory banquet, which gave him the energy to walk around and patch up his wounds. Jones knew he would now have to direct his attentions to finding his way out of the copious amounts of jungle that lay before him. This situation was no new predicament for the experienced SAS man, he had encountered conditions like this on numerous occasions, mostly accompanied by his right hand man general Girard. Girard was a worthy accomplice in situations like these due to his unparalleled knowledge of the jungles and their inhabitants. His depth of knowledge had been accumulated as a result of his young 16-year-old mother dumping him in the Sudanese jungle as a baby. In truth he was raised by the monkeys, this taught him a lot and accounted for his ape like appearance and pugnacious aroma. Unfortunately for Jones, Girard had been killed in mysterious circumstances only a month prior to this day. He was now under the impression that Girard had met the same fate that he had nearly experienced
It took Jones around 3 days to navigate the treacherous jungle routes, encountering various breeds of deadly animals. He found it hard to pilot his way without the help of his darkened sidekick, but he soldiered on anyway and finally reached a small mountain town where he commandeered a primitive form of transport. With this he managed to finally find his way to the city where he new he had contacts that could enable him safe passage out of the country. Jones had a reliable contact in the heart of the city that he had used on numerous occasions. His name was Don Mohan, a dishevelled looking individual whose body was covered almost completely in hair, his appearance was short and he was of a balding complexion with a large protruding nose. Mohan was a an ex US marine who had been dishonourably discharged after sexually assaulting a 14 year old African girl while on duty in Zimbabwe, he had then fled to brazil in hope of a peaceful life
Jones was not a great admirer of Mohan and his paedophilic nature but he did have his uses. He was a great forger who could copy any document known to man. Jones hoped he could produce a fake passport, which would get him safely out the country to a place free of danger. Mohan lived in one of the poorest areas of Rio in a dark dreary alleyway with little in the way of street lighting. Jones approached the house cautiously aware that his betrayers may have staked out the building in order to cover all foreseeable events. As he got close he heard the distinctive noise of a door opening, instinctively diving for cover he noticed a large well-built man exiting the confines of the building. Immediately Jones knew who it was, it was none other than Mark Cyprus one of his former friends and comrade. Cyprus and Jones had joined the SAS at pretty much the same time in their lives, although they were from completely dissimilar backgrounds. Cyprus had been groomed for the armed forces all of his life, as his father was a high-ranking officer in the British army. He was a posh boy who had everything handed to him on a plate; contrary to this Jones had grown up the hard way in a small rough mining town in the heart of Yorkshire with very little in the way of encouragement. He had worked for all his life to get where he was now
Seeing Cyprus standing there angered Jones. He stepped out from where he was perched behind a bin and stood face to face with Cyprus
Jones; ‘ Sergeant Cyprus, my day of revenge has come rather sooner than I expected. I suppose you are somewhat surprised to see me.’ Cyprus stood slightly aghast for a minute before he spoke
Cyprus; ‘ I guess we underestimated you didn’t we, you are clearly more resilient than we gave you credit for’
Jones; ‘ Logic would clearly deduce that.’ Jones smiled somewhat as he spoke knowing the whole time that the only feasible conclusion to this affair would be the death of one of the two parties
Cyprus; ‘ I’ll have to make sure that I don’t make the same mistake again then wont I.’
Quickly Cyprus reached for his Bowie that he kept in his side leg pocket, Jones although still not fully rehabilitated managed to evade the strike without difficulty and gave a retaliatory punch, which was easily knocked away by his opponent. As Jones and Cyprus had trained together on countless occasions both men knew the others fighting style and moves as if their own.
‘You know you’ll never get the better of me Jones, you are a has-been and I’ve always had the beating of you my Northern friend’ Cyprus quipped as he thrashed at Jones once more with knife. At this point Jones was tired and he knew that his death would be imminent unless he did something to thwart his adversary soon. Jones stood for a minute and gathered all his strength before striking Cyprus with a beautifully précised chop to the jugular. Cyprus slowly fell to the ground shrieking with pain like a little child, he quickly began convulsing on the ground before lying motionless. It was clear to Jones at this point that Cyprus was no longer a problem to him
After dumping Cypus’ body in the bin he had originally hidden behind, Jones entered Mohan’s dwelling. Not to his great surprise he found Mohan’s body slumped over his desk. He had a bullet between his eyes, on his desks were passports and papers from all different countries along with pornographic material of what Jones perceived to be under aged girls. He then proceeded to methodically scan the area for materials that would be of use to him. In the desk was a Gloch 13 c gun, which would probably be of great use to him as well as a number of passports. In the background he heard the sound of what appeared to be the police. This perturbed him greatly as the last thing he needed to do was explain why he was in a room with a dead body and illegal pornography. That was a situation he had faced far too often in the past.
Jones exited the building via a back window in order to evade the local law enforcement, he ran quickly down the street until the sirens could be heard no longer, his pace slowed to a quaint stroll and he began to soak up the surroundings that enveloped him. Out of nowhere a little tiny child ran up to Jones and tugged upon his arm.
Jones: ‘What’s your name little girl, and what appears to be your problem’
The girl then explained her situation; her name was Sabreena Kebabi and she was but 12 years old. She was one of the smallest girls Jones had ever laid eyes on, her face was somewhat disfigured and of a dirty Asian type colour. The girl had gone on to explain how she was a local prostitute and she was with Mohan when he got shot. The fact that she was a prostitute disturbed Jones thoroughly but he let her continue
Kebabi; ‘These two men just came in and shot him in the head’ she spoke quickly and nervously ‘I managed to hide in the bathroom and they never saw me thankfully’ The conversation led Jones to deduce that there was another assailant on the loose. He did the honourable thing and cut the girls throat for three reasons. 1) She had seen too much and could disclose his identity, 2) He abhorred her life as a prostitute and thought it better she was dead and 3) She had a rather annoying voice that grated on him severely
The conversation with the girl had left Jones on tenterhooks; he knew there was at least one man out there who had no intention of letting him leave Rio alive
Braker Street, England
In a dark cold room in the central slums of London sat Jermaine Girard philosophising about what he was to do. Girard was presumed dead by many but little did they know he was very much alive and was indeed also plotting revenge against those that had blighted his life. In the month since his supposed death Girard had managed to return to England and break into an old abandoned house, which he made his centre of operations. His aim was to find out why his fellow SAS members had left him for dead and get to the bottom of this whole conspiracy. Girard using his valuable skills and resources gathered in his years as an SAS member had managed to put together a few pieces of the intrinsic puzzle that lay before him. Girard had managed to hack into important defence documents and what he saw shocked him. His closest ally Jones was about to be eliminated in the same fashion as that planned for Girard himself. Girard ran from his squalid building and got on the first plane towards Brazil. He had no intention of letting this treachery occur.