Notes: Beta'd by faye-dartmouth, who has patiently corrected my comma mistakes :)
This story has several parts that will be posted regularly. The title comes from CCR's Run through the Jungle.

Run Through the Jungle

Part 1

Rick didn't know what was more uncomfortable: to have sand in every orifice or to be sweating even while sitting impossibly still. But thinking about it, there really wasn't much of a difference between the two states. Both were uncomfortable and itchy.

Rick sighed and grabbed the front of his shirt to pull at it in a vain attempt to get some air circulation. He really started to long for the cold winter back in Langley. The ODS had been sent from one mission in Egypt right to the next somewhere in the middle of the South American rainforest. From hot, dry air into hot, humid air.

"Are you running hot over there?" Billy asked. The Scot was leaning against the window of the bast hovel they had called home for the past few days. With his arms crossed in front of his chest and his face turned slightly to observe the forest around him, Billy looked anything but uncomfortable.

"I just hope that Michael and Casey return soon. I could really use that water," Rick replied, slightly jealous about the fact that his colleague seemed to have no problem with the current climate.

The two of them were alone in the hut; Michael and Casey had left them early in the morning to go on a supply run. By then, it had become obvious that they would have to stay for a few more days to get all the intel they needed. This was supposed to be just a simply reconnaissance mission, but knowing the rest of his team members and the unpredictability of the CIA, Rick knew this could turn into an extraction mission pretty quick. So it was better to be prepared.

They were supposed to find out if Manuel Santiago, a local cartel lord, was in his mansion and who else was with him. The CIA had heard that Santiago was about to break up his cartel into smaller organizations, which would make it harder to pinpoint any specific criminal activity to him. They wanted to stop him before that happened.

Billy nodded in reply and turned his attention back to the jungle outside. "Don't worry, with time you get used to the heat or the changing climate. The advantages of a trained operative. Nothing will faze you. Well," Billy said, looking back at him with a smirk on his face, "nearly nothing."

Rick just shook his head and was happy that Billy didn't continue. He really didn't need to find out just what could faze Billy. Or Michael and Casey for that matter.

They had rented this little bast hut from a CIA informant. It was old and looked abandoned; parts of the back wall were missing and the roof had sacked in in one corner. Water was dripping inside from some bended bast fibers and black mold had grown around the little puddle. The only furniture was the rickety chair Rick was sitting in and he wasn't sure how long that thing would last.

But even with the thick trees that surrounded the place, they had a clear view of the main entrance of Santiago's little mansion. The man himself had arrived early this morning. Casey had seen him drive inside and since then the safety measures on the compound had doubled.

The team even had had to temporarily flee their little home for nearly an hour, when a couple of Santiago's men came to check it out. They had hidden deep in the jungle for that time, eyes and ears open to anything unusual, but the only thing they had heard was the chatter of the animals surrounding them.

Rick continued to flap the collar of his shirt a few more times, before he finally gave up. It was a futile effort anyway. He was really ready for this assignment to be over. With two missions back to back, he was getting exhausted. And sitting around in the humid jungle heat did nothing to help, even with Billy trying to keep up his spirits. Rick just wanted to go home and sleep in a real bed again. Of course he knew that what they did was important, but in times like these it was hard to remember that fact. He'd signed up for danger, not heat stroke.

The feeling of something moving up on his skin made Rick shift his attention and he watched as a small mosquito made its way up his bare arm. Which was just great-on top of being uncomfortable, he'd probably contract some tropical disease, too. Slowly he lifted his other hand, ready to squish the insect. But before he could kill it, his wrist was grabbed in a strong hold. Rick flinched in surprise. He hadn't heard anyone approaching and now Billy was standing right beside him, wrist in his hand and finger placed over his lips.

Tension was visible in Billy's face as he listened to his surroundings, and Rick followed the older operative's lead. Straining his ears, Rick heard nothing. He was just about to ask Billy what he had heard to put him on the edge, when the Scot pulled his gun from the back of his cargos.

Again Rick wanted to ask what was wrong, when he realized it himself. It was completely silent. Even the buzzing of the insects that had annoyed him all day had stopped.

He pulled his gun with slightly trembling hands and held it, barrel down, in front of him, trying to find the reason for the sudden silence.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he tried to hold on to Billy's words, that he had to use his fear, work with it. He forced himself to take a long, deep breath and then went to check the window on the other side of the hut. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Billy moving to the door, taking a quick look out. Rick followed his example and looked out of the second window.

Nothing was moving outside. The big green leaves were still, slowly dripping water. It seemed as if all animals had vanished into thin air. Every time they had looked out before, small birds had fluttered by, or some kind of reptile had skittered past. The stillness now was unsettling.

For a second, Rick really hoped that it was just Michael and Casey returning and playing a joke on them. But when a bullet ripped through the bast just a few inches from his head, he knew that this was not another joke.

Rick and Billy threw themselves on the ground as more bullets passed over their heads. The already unstable hut shook under the onslaught as the fibers were torn apart, leaving gaping holes.

The two ODS operatives had pressed themselves to the ground, trying to be the smallest target as was possible. They had no cover and no idea who attacked them and how to fight back. But even without a clear target to shoot at, Rick lifted his gun and pulled the trigger. It was a vain attempt to defend them or at least a faint hope to stall the attack until Michael and Casey would return to help them.

He did however realize that Billy hadn't taken any shots yet. Casting a quick look over his shoulder, he saw that Billy had his eyes closed, concentrating on his sense of hearing rather than his sight and Rick hoped that whatever Billy did hear was good news and not more attackers approaching.

For now it seemed as if the counterattack had worked. Whoever attacked them had at least stopped shooting.

Rick glanced over to Billy, who in return just shook his head. The attack was most like not over yet; they were just probably just regrouping.

After the wailing of the passing bullets, the silence now was even more eerie than before. Because this time, Rick knew what was coming and that was worse than being in the dark. However, the quiet around them also worked in their favor. The rustling sound of someone approaching through the underbrush otherwise probably would have been lost in the natural noises of the rainforest.

Now Billy had just enough time to roll on his back and shoot the man that tried to attack them from behind. The man, who had just seconds ago tried to climb in through the window, gave a muted grunt before he fell backward.

More rustling could be heard, this time not only from one side of the cabin. They were surrounded, outgunned and outmanned. But going by Billy's determined face, they were not going to go down easy. Rick briefly closed his eyes. His heart was beating a mile a minute in fear. But giving up without a fight was not the way he was brought up, was not the way the rest of his team had showed him.

The next man that tried to enter the hut was felled by one of Rick's bullets. More men followed, entering the small hut through the two windows and the single door. Soon Rick had to abandon his gun and started to fight off his attackers with just his fists. He only caught glimpses of Billy defending himself.

His fighting skills were good, Rick knew that, since he managed to pass that course in the top 3% of his class, but they were nowhere near Casey's and the number of men attacking them simply topped his abilities.

With regret and fear rising in his throat, Rick found himself overpowered by the latest man and with a gun against his temple and an arm around his throat, he had no other choice but to give up.

He was forced to face Billy, who was standing ready to fight across the room. His chest was heaving, his gun also lost in the chaos, but somehow replaced with a knife. A bruise was already forming on Billy's jaw, and blood ran down his cheek from a cut beside his eyebrow, mixing with the blood from a split lip. There was a large tear in the shoulder of his black t-shirt, but there didn't seem to be any injury underneath it.

Rick knew that he probably looked similarly bad, especially since he could taste the blood on his lips and felt the tender skin around his eye. But seeing Billy visibly deflate when the Scot realized that the fight was over, really made him aware of just how bad their situation was.

Rick met Billy's eyes with an apologetic gaze, in reply, Billy shrugged and let go of the bloody knife, letting it clatter to the ground.

Helplessly, the youngest ODS operative had to watch as one of their attackers raised his gun and brought the barrel down hard over Billy's head. The Scot collapsed like a puppet with the strings cut and then his Rick's own world turned black.

TBC