Blood on Celluloid

by B. L. Morgan

  “Sherry had no living relatives but her father had been a wealthy businessman. I notified the authorities in France of Sherry’s survival, and when she turned eighteen she inherited a sizable fortune. She moved to the United States to start a new life but she never completely forgot what she had been through.

  “If you wish to avenge Sherry’s death then you must destroy The Flesh Pit and the men who run it. They murdered her just as surely as the man who held the knife.”

  These were harsh words for an old nun to be saying, and her face looked hard as she said them.

  “Whatever we’ve got to do,” I told the Sister, “That’s what we’ll do.”

  Sister Mary Sheridon smiled. “Perhaps you yourselves are the instruments of God.”

  “Yeah,” Ron said. “He’s not a bad guy to have on your side, especially since we’re going to be raising hell on Earth.”

  * * *

  Sister Mary Sheridon put us up in a room for the night, and as soon as all the kids were asleep, we made use of one of their large communal shower rooms to let hot water wash the grime away.

  In the morning after a breakfast of hot oatmeal with the nuns and children in their cafeteria, a frightened-eyed young nun was assigned the task of guiding us to the bus stop where we would meet with a few of William Po’s men. The Sister spoke no English but she would make herself understood by just pointing at where to turn.

  The sun was shining brightly as we drove across town to the northern edge of the city. Just as we got to the outskirts, on a corner stood a single story building with a parking lot outside it. People roamed around outside and a bus was parked against the curb.

  Our nun motioned me to pull into the lot.

  I did and parked.

  We all got out and the nun walked toward the people outside the building. We followed close behind. One man leading two children, a boy and a girl, came walking toward her.

  The Sister motioned toward us and said something to the man. He said something back and then crossed himself and gave a polite bow. The nun took the children by the hand and led them into the bus station.

  The man was short and stocky with a rough looking face. He saw us watch as the Sister and the children walked away.

  He broke into a broad grin, “You don’t have to worry about her. She always calls a taxi from inside.” He spoke heavily accented English. “I am Lu Fan. So you want to join our movement? We can use good men,” he said, then he looked at Candi, “and women,” he added.

  “We’re just here to shut down The Flesh Pit,” I told Lu Fan, “We’re here to kill the people who run it and anyone in our way,”

  “Good,” Lu Fan answered, “That’s what we all want to do.”

  * * *

  Lu Fan was driving a pick-up truck. We followed him in our car about forty miles to a camp in the middle of the jungle.

  CHAPTER 39

  Tropical birds screeched strange cries down at us from the treetops as we pulled up and stopped just within the boundaries of a small tent city, and when I say small, I mean really small.

  There were maybe ten tents spread among the trees and bushes, a few fires that people were cooking from, and a few guys were cleaning guns or sharpening knives and that was it.

  We got out of the Honda Hatchback and I went to Lu Fan. I was wearing a light jacket even though it was hot as hell. I had my right hand in the jacket pocket gripping my .38.

  “I want to speak to William Po,” I said.

  “In time you will know him,” Lu Fan answered. “For now, you must wait.”

  “I don’t believe in waiting,” I told Lu Fan. “It cannot be avoided.”

  Ron said, “Then whoever’s in charge here, we need to talk to him.”

  At that moment, the flap to the tent closest to us-- a big eight man job-- slid open and a wiry looking man in his forties, with steely eyes and a harsh expression, came out.

  “This is the man in charge,” Lu fan said, and took us to him.

  Some words in Thai passed between them. The man turned to us. “The Flesh Pit is something we all wish to destroy. What qualifies you to do what we have not been able?”

  “I was a Search and Destroy Specialist with the US Military Forces in Viet Nam,” I said. “Our job was finding specific Viet Cong military leaders; infiltrate their camps and kill them. A few missions I was on involved destroying POW camps. Do you have anyone better qualified?”

  “No, I do not,” he answered. “But a more important question is why should we trust you?”

  “The Sisters sent them,” Lu Fan cut in.

  “And,” I said, to the leader of these homeless freedom fighters, as I brought the .38 out of my jacket pocket, “If we weren’t on your side, you’d be dead already.”

  The man smiled then.

  “I cannot argue with that logic,” he said.

  * * *

  We followed the leader into the tent. He told us, “Here, I am simply called Jong. My name is Wanna Kit Wachirabangjong.”

  “Then Jong it is,” I told him and introduced myself, then Ron and Candi.

  Jong got right to the point then. “With so many evil men in your homeland why do you come this far to fight the evil here?”

  I explained about hunting Sherry’s killer and ended with, “A man named Tian Kham is the one who murdered her. Have you heard of him?”

  “I have heard the name. He is one of the overlord’s assassins.”

  “Who is this overlord?” Ron asked.

  “We do not know exactly who he is,” Jong told us. “The Overlord is a name we use for the man who owns and runs The Flesh Pit, and sends out his men to buy children wherever they can find them.”

  Candi said, “Since everyone seems to be throwing out questions I need to get mine in, even if it might seem a little stupid to everybody else here.” She looked at Jong.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Well, this jungle fighting against child sex slavers doesn’t seem to be something you’d take up as a weekend hobby. So how did you end up doing this anyway?”

  Jong’s face clouded and he looked at the dirt in front of his feet.

  “I am trying to atone for the greatest shame of my life by giving my life to a good cause. I was a farmer, a poor man when a man came to our village offering to pay for our children to work in his factory. He said he would board them and feed them well and return them at the end of three months.

  “Many in my village took his offer. I sold him our daughter. He gave us an address, a phone number, and the money. I gave my daughter a kiss on the forehead and told her to be a good girl and do what she was instructed to do. I’ll never forget the trusting smile she gave me. My daughter wanted to make me proud of her. The man drove away with our children in the back of his truck.

  “When I tried to call to find out how my daughter was getting along, the phone number was no good. I then found out the factory and address he left with us did not exist.

  “The police will do nothing. Our government will do nothing. Here, as well as everywhere, money makes you powerful. We are poor people. Our voices will not be heard.

  “In despair my wife took her own life. I pray the lord forgives her. She could not stand the pain of what I had done. I sold our daughter.

  “This is the only life that is left for me now. My daughter is gone forever. I do not know if she is alive or dead. I only know that men like the Overlord have taken her away from me. The Overlord and men like him must pay for what they do.”

  “That’s what we’re here for,” I told Jong, “To make sure that he does.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Jong told us the approximate location of The Flesh Pit. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t very specific. The Flesh Pit was in the middle of the jungle and there was only one road in and out so we’d have to be guided there anyway.

  Since there was only one road, we couldn’t use it.

  We had to go on foot. That was the only way to get to The Flesh Pit without everyone knowing that we were
coming.

  Jong drew us a rough diagram of what the place looked like in the dirt. It was a relatively simple set up. There were five main buildings and a large paved open area that served as a helicopter landing pad.

  The entire complex was separated from the rest of the world by a fifteen foot tall chain link fence topped by razor wire.

  It was not an easy place to get into or out of.

  The children and supplies were always brought in by the road. The guests always paid top dollar for the privilege of going there and raping the kids. Guests were brought in and taken out by helicopter.

  Jong estimated that thirty guards were on the complex all the time. They had their own quarters. It was next to the place where the children were locked up.

  Other than that there was the hotel where the guests and the staff that ran The Flesh Pit stayed, a two story night club named appropriately, The Flesh Pit, and a health spa.

  I’d need to see the place first hand before I could come up with a plan for how to get in and destroy it.

  I asked Jong what kind of weapons his men had.

  He said, “most have rifles. A few have pistols. All of them have knives.”

  “Do you have any explosives?” I asked.

  “No, nothing like that,” he answered.

  This was looking pretty fucking bleak.

  “Look,” I told Jong, “My woman sent a lot of money over here to William Po. What the fuck have you been doing with it?” I felt like busting this guy upside the head, but that wouldn’t help anything so I didn’t do it. I knew Jong wasn’t at fault for anything, but this damn jungle heat made you feel like beating the crap out of somebody, whether you had a good reason or not.

  “Any money that comes in goes to a central bank account. I can get small amounts out,” Jong said. “I use as little as possible. Most times I only get enough for food.

  “The Flesh Pit is not the only place of its kind. There are many, and we are not the only group of William Po’s men. There are many groups throughout the countries in this region. The money that comes in does not go far.”

  I knew he was telling the truth so I didn’t press him any further about it.

  * * *

  The next morning we took an inventory of the tools that everyone had to see what could be useful. The only thing that looked like something we could use was a heavy duty pair of wire cutters. The wire cutters were big enough to cut through a chain link fence. We’d take those with us.

  CHAPTER 41

  Around noon we asked for volunteers from Chong’s men to go and hit The Flesh Pit.

  Six stepped forward. One extra man was assigned to go with us to stay behind and guard the three cars we’d leave at the point where we’d have to go on foot. He was supposed to stay with the cars for a week then give us up for dead.

  * * *

  After driving for two hours of lonely dirt roads we came to the edge of a jungle, where the road came to a sudden end. We stopped and unpacked our gear.

  The hot sun beat down on us, and in the distance four elephants picked fruit and leaves from trees to eat. It was a primordial scene that had been replayed here endlessly for at least the last thousand years. It was a reminder that here we were isolated.

  * * *

  We marched all day through the steaming jungle, keeping our eyes wide open for anything that was going on around us. Out here armed bandits were just one thing we had to worry about. Out here there were all kinds of animals and snakes that could kill you and eat you.

  Lu Fan told us that normally tigers avoid people as much as they can. That was fine with me. I wanted to avoid them, too.

  When it got dark we camped and made a fire and with a guard posted we slept as well as we could. It wasn’t too damned good either.

  * * *

  By noon the next day we were close enough to The Flesh Pit to drop our gear, and me and Lu Fan went forward to scout it out alone. I was carrying my AKS-74U and my .38. Lu Fan had his rifle. We were hoping we didn’t have to use these yet.

  Two men alone can remain unseen. With ten men, during the daytime, somebody would probably be spotted. We circled around keeping the tree line between us and the high chain link fence. The place was as Jong had described it; five buildings and a helicopter landing pad. The high fence was topped with razor wire and the only posted guard was at the front gate.

  The only other guards we saw were two guys that were walking the edge of the fence. Jong had told us to expect four.

  One other thing that was different was that the helicopter was gone.

  When I whispered to Lu Fan that there was less security than we expected he answered, “There must be no guests here now. Maybe that’s why they have fewer guards out.”

  We’d made a complete circle of the compound and were near the front gate when a Jeep drove up the dirt road and slid to a stop.

  The man that got out and yelled for the guard to open the gate was the same man who I’d seen in the video tape cut Sherry’s throat. It was Tian Kham.

  It was all I could do to stop myself from coming out from behind those trees and riddling his body with bullets. But that would be too fast for him. I wanted to get that son-of-a-bitch in a position where I could make his death slow and painful, something he could relive endlessly in hell.

  CHAPTER 42

  We went back to the camp that we’d made about a quarter mile from The Flesh Pit and told everyone what we’d found. This little military operation was looking easier than we’d expected. We’d just snip the fence with the cutters, get in, cut some throats and take over. It looked like a piece of cake.

  I should have known better.

  With lookouts posted, we tried to catch some shut eye as we waited for night to fall. With knowing what was ahead of us, sleep didn’t come easy.

  * * *

  Nighttime fell like a brick out of the sky. Maybe it seemed to come so fast because the jungle was always in shadow. I don’t know. It just seemed like one minute it was light, the next minute it was pitch black.

  We had Lu Fan guide us to The Flesh Pit. Out in the jungle in the darkness, the three of us from America would have gotten lost in a heartbeat.

  When we were on the other side of the tree line from the chain link fence, Lu Fan told us that he wanted to make one more circle around the compound to be certain of where the guards were.

  “It will only take me a few minutes,” he told us. “A saying that you Americans use fit what we are doing: it is better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Then get to it,” I told him. “If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m cutting that fence and going in.”

  With our backs to an Asian Jungle, watching for any movement at all in the mostly darkened facility named The Flesh Pit, the ten minutes that Lu Fan was gone seemed like hours.

  He came back sliding through the grass as silent as a snake. “One guard is sleeping,” he told us. “The other one I saw enter the health spa with a very attractive teenage girl. I believe he will be preoccupied for some time. We should move now. The Flesh Pit is essentially unguarded.”

  I told two of the rebels to stay outside the fence and watch our backs. I crawled forward clutching the wire cutters in one hand with my AKS-74U slung over my back.

  At the fence I took a good look around. I didn’t see anything moving at all. The lack of movement and the silence had my nerves jangling, and that was the way I wanted them to be.

  I quickly cut the strands of fencing along the bottom near the ground three feet long, and then paused to freeze and scan the area around me again.

  No movement, nothing.

  I cut the fencing right up the middle to make a flap three feet high and signaled to Ron and Candi. I slid through the flap and waited on the other side.

  Just like we’d planned, Ron ran up and grabbed the fencing and bent it up. Candi came running in a crouch. She got to the fence, flattened herself to the ground, and squeezed through the gap.

  Ron stayed holding the fenc
e up and four more of the William Po men slid through the hole I’d made and joined us on the other side.

  The only other man we had planned to have inside was Lu Fan, but I could see now he wasn’t coming. He was trying to get our two lookouts to follow us on through the hole in the fence.

  That wasn’t in the plan that we’d come up with together today.

  “Get your ass over here,” Ron whispered as loudly as he could at Lu Fan, and waved him forward.

  “What the hell is up with him?” Candi whispered to me.

  Her question was answered immediately.

  Floodlights came on from the rooftops pinning us to the ground.

  “Drop your weapons,” a bull horn shouted at us.

  I jumped to my feet and fired off a stream of bullets into one of the lights. It winked out.

  The sound of Fffffffft shot past my head and several more of those followed. I didn’t know what the hell was making that noise and I didn’t want to find out.

  We were like deer in the headlights waiting for the crash.

  Something stung me in the back.

  I spun toward it and fired, hitting nothing.

  The rebels were firing blindly and I saw two of them go down simultaneously.

  Over at the fence, Ron was on his knees pulling something out of his left shoulder and screaming out a string of curses at his unseen assailants.

  That son-of-a-bitch Lu Fan had to have set us up because now he was firing at our two lookouts.

  I went to run and my legs were numb.

  Two more stings hit me, one in the stomach and one in the chest.

  My legs wouldn’t move. I fell hard on my face and rolled over. I went to bring my rifle up to shoot and my arms wouldn’t move.