** Mild content, mostly language.**

            The following weeks were a series of wild goose chases with an occasional catch of a mouse. We recovered two more of our crank guns and a few heavy mortars. But they were all in outposts in the jungle. The main base was still hidden in this savage landscape. Sometime in the third week of this side campaign luck seemed to favor us. An unarmed emissary approached, requesting a deal be made between us, and the rest of his crew. For now we could only wait as command spoke with him.

            “Fuck parlay. We have the son of a bitch right here. I say lock him up and make him tell us where they’re hiding.” Bill flicked his cigarette toward the tree line as he spoke.

            “Don’t you know anything about pirates Bill?”

            “Do I really have to repeat myself Lucky? Fu…”

            “No… I just mean parlay is basically the only thing in a pirate’s vocabulary that means surrender. If they are sending this guy to us it must mean they are ready to give up.”

            “I’m not holding my breath.” Lucky shrugs at Quick then looks at me.

            “What do you think Moore?”

            “I learned not to trust pirates back home. This guy doesn’t change my mind to be honest.”

            A few hours later the emissary departs to return to his base. Word is passed through the ranks that the entire battalion is moving out at first light to peacefully secure the pirate base, at which time our comrades and weapons will be returned to us. A knot forms in my gut; I have a feeling that a lot of marines are going to die in the next few hours. We wake early at set out through the jungle. I’m nervous and ready for anything; but after the first few hours being uneventful I begin to relax. Maybe they were really going to surrender. Or maybe they would just hit us hard at their base.

            We arrive at the fort at 1300 to find it… deserted. Command breaks the battalion up having us search the area by company. Deep in the compound K Company finds some of the captive marines. **They had been tied to posts in the sun and had honey poured over them to attract insects. The cones were stuffed in their mouths and left with bridles to keep their jaws open.** They had died from heat stroke and dehydration. The insects just made in a hellish way to go.

            “For fuck sake… they’re as bad as the trolls.”

            “Worse… trolls at least bashed our guys heads in when they were done with them.”

            “These men just suffered.” Our Lieutenant spits on the ground. “Alright… cut them down, look for survivors.”

            We found one man that had been left in the compound. He was one of the last guys they tied to the posts before leaving the island according to him. He also told us about a prison camp not far from here, where the rest of our missing comrades were held. We moved quickly to liberate the camp but many of the prisoners there had already died. Those that we did rescue still had a fight ahead of them. And over the next few days many would die from dehydration, malnutrition, infection, disease, and their own hand. Some of them still believed that their ordeal wasn’t yet over. And committed suicide the first chance they got. Because of this our medical core had to lock up the survivors for their own safety.

            This act would not go unpunished. We all wanted to find the pirates now, and kill them all.