Survivor: Philippines
By Littlesilverstar, silverstar222b@yahoo.com
Female soldier fights off jungle dangers and terrorists

Lieutenant Colonel Danica Cooper checked her bags one last time to make 
sure she had everything.  Satisfied, she picked them up and headed outside
to where the helicopter was waiting.  Her confident stride and her physical
appearance definitely indicated that she was a warrior woman.  At 5'8" and
132 pounds, she was tall and slender, with an athletic and muscular body.
Her skin was tanned and her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back in a
neat bun.

"Ready to go, ma'am?" asked the young pilot.  He looked at the heavy bags
she was carrying. "I'll help you with those," he offered.

"No, thank you, Captain," she responded with a smile. "I've got them." They 
both took their seats.  The pilot started the engines and the helicopter 
lifted off into the air.  Danica looked out the window, enjoying the view 
of the deep blue ocean and the jungle-covered islands down below.  The sky 
was mostly blue, but dark gray storm clouds menaced the western horizon.

Danica was a thirty-six-year-old officer in the United States Army. She had
been assigned to the Philippines for the past several months, helping that
country's soldiers in their battle against Islamic terrorists. Now, she was
finally going home on leave.  The helicopter would take her to the 
Philippine capital, Manila, where she would catch a plane home to the 
United States.

The heat and dampness of the jungle and the constant threat of danger made
life there rough, but the hardest part for Danica was being away from her
family.  She took a small picture out of her pocket that showed herself, 
her husband, Steve, and their daughter, Anna.  They were all standing in
front of their house, smiling.  Steve was a popular high school biology
teacher, and Anna, at 11 years old, was already showing some of the warrior
personality traits that her mother had.

"Looking forward to going home, ma'am?" asked the pilot over the noise of 
the engines.

"Oh yes," she replied. "And please, call me Danica." The captain was about
to respond when there came a sudden burst of machine-gun fire.  Several
bullet holes appeared in the side of the helicopter.

"Shit!" said Danica and the pilot at exactly the same time.  The pilot
turned the chopper sharply and began climbing for altitude, trying to get
out of range of the terrorists who were firing at them. "Mayday! Mayday!"
yelled the pilot into the radio. "We're taking fire! We're..." A second
burst of machine-gun fire came, this one accompanied by the sound of glass 
shattering.  Suddenly, the craft lurched and dropped sharply.  Danica 
looked over at the pilot and saw to her horror that he was slumped dead,
several bloody holes in his chest.

She reached over and yanked at the controls wildly, but the helicopter
continued to lurch and drop.  Trying the radio, she found that the burst of
fire that had killed the captain had also destroyed the radio. "Shit!" she
said again.  She was not a pilot and had no idea how to fly a helicopter, 
let alone land it safely.  More machine-gun fire came, but she ignored it, 
her entire mind focused on somehow getting out of this alive.

Looking down, Danica saw that she was over the ocean.  As the chopper spun
lower and lower, she knew that she had only one choice left. She unstrapped
herself and stood up, preparing to jump.  When the helicopter had dropped 
to fifty feet over the sea, she took a deep breath and leapt out.  With a
large splash, she landed in the water feet first.

A few hundred yards away, the helicopter crashed into the ocean.  As it
impacted, an orange fireball was seen and a loud explosion was heard.
Danica stared at the wreck, a look of shock on her pretty face.  Finally,
she whispered sadly, "Goodbye, Captain."

She looked around.  There was choppy ocean on three sides, but to the north
there was an island.  She began swimming for shore, burdened by her heavy
boots.  She accepted the struggle, knowing that once she reached land and
started walking around in the jungle, she would appreciate having those 
boots.

Finally, she reached the shore.  Breathing heavily and shaking the water 
off herself, she pulled herself onto the beach.  She looked around and
listened for any signs of nearby terrorists.  There was only the sound of
birds chirping and the sound of the waves.

A sudden rustling came from the jungle growth.  Danica's hand instinctively
went to her side for her pistol.  To her extreme disappointment, she found
that her trusty sidearm was missing, lost in the confusion of the crash and
the swim.

The rustling grew louder.  A small monkey appeared, stared at her curiously
for a second, and then disappeared back into the jungle.  She sighed in 
relief, then checked to see what she had with her.  Her emergency rations
and matches were gone, although the matches would have become wet and 
useless anyway from the swim if she still had them.  On the plus side, she
still had her knife and a canteen of water.  She also still had the (wet)
picture of her husband and daughter.

She looked up at the blue sky. "At least the weather's nice," she thought
to herself.

A growl of thunder was heard and dark clouds filled the sky rapidly.  
Thirty seconds later, it was raining hard, soaking poor Danica, who was
already very wet. (No, not THAT kind of wet.) Seriously pissed off, she was
about to yell a very bad word extremely loudly when she remembered that a
yell would attract the attention of any nearby terrorists.

She focused her thoughts on survival and rescue.  She had no radio or other
means of communication with her, and could only hope that the helicopter
pilot's brief shouts into the radio had been enough to alert the base.  If
the remnants of the chopper were found, there was a decent chance that the
island she was on would also be searched.  She just had to hope that her 
own people found her before the terrorists did.  

Feeling exposed out on the open beach, Danica headed into the cover of the
jungle.  As she slogged through the mud, she remembered the rough survival
training she had gone through as a cadet at West Point.  It had been a pain
in the ass then, and it was likely going to save her ass now.

Making her way through the greenery, she noticed some wild fruit that she
recognized as edible.  She paused, quickly putting some in her mouth and
some more in her pockets.  Then, she noticed a spider crawling close to her
that she recognized as poisonous.  She quickly stomped it flat under her
size 9 boot.

The spider reminded her of an incident that had happened many years ago,
when she had been a young second lieutenant. Some of the men in the platoon
she had been newly assigned to command had been a little...let's say
uncertain about the idea of having a female commanding officer.  A few of
them had gotten together and played a little prank on her, putting a spider
in her bed.  When she had discovered the spider, recognizing it as one of
the harmless variety, she had placed it in her hand, carried it outside, 
and put it on the ground.  When the men had seen how she had handled the 
prank, she had quickly earned their respect.

The pouring rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. The sun broke through
the clouds and appeared low in the western sky, close to setting.  Danica
looked at her watch, which was waterproof and had survived the rough fall
and swim.  It was 6:02 in the evening.  Although the tropical heat dried
her clothes quickly, it also caused her to sweat heavily, which dampened
the clothes just as fast.

Soon, it began growing dark.  Danica looked around for a nice tree in which
to spend the night.  Hopefully she wouldn't be in too much danger, as there
hadn't been any sign of the terrorists being close yet.

That was when she heard the distant but heavy footsteps tramping through
the jungle, accompanied by angry voices shouting in a foreign language. For 
a brief moment, she hoped that the voices were those of Philippine Army 
soldiers, but she knew that that was extremely unlikely. This particular 
island was clearly in insurgent hands, and no other force had a base here.

"Shit," she thought to herself.  She began making her way quickly through 
the now darkened jungle, doubling back from time to time to make a more
confusing trail.  She couldn't afford to sleep now, not with enemies this
close.  But the terrorists would have to sleep too, and they would be a lot
more confident about it than her...

Turning around, she saw that a faint light had appeared in the distance
behind her. "Fools," she thought. "Their overconfidence will be their
undoing." She circled around so that she was the one following the light.
The light continued moving for a while, then stopped.  Evidently, the men
were making camp for the night.

Danica crept up as close as she dared to the terrorists' campfire.  There
were three men were sitting around the fire, talking.  There were also 
three AK-47 assault rifles strewn next to them.  Although she couldn't hear 
all their words and she had only a partial understanding of their language, 
what she heard was enough.  The terrorists had seen a figure jump from the
helicopter and knew that someone had survived the crash.  This island was
the only land within swimming distance and they were now searching for her.
She now knew that she was in great danger of being killed, or worse, being
captured alive and subjected to the special dangers that female soldiers
faced.

She thought about what to do.  There were three of them here now - a 
manageable number.  And they would likely go to sleep soon.  She remained
hiding in the greenery, watching her enemies.  Finally, about two hours
later, two of the men laid down and went to sleep, both snoring loudly.
The third man remained seated awake on guard, an AK-47 in his lap.

Now was her best chance.  But she would have to do it very carefully.  If
she screwed up, she would have nothing but a knife to defend herself 
against three enemies with rifles.

She thought about sneaking up behind the man on guard and slitting his
throat, but she decided that that was too risky.  She would have to cross
a considerable amount of space to get to him, and if she made the slightest
noise he would simply turn around and shoot her.

Finally, she decided on a throw.  She inched a little closer and drew her
knife.  There would be one chance to get it right.  She just hoped that her
arm was accurate enough.  In high school, she had been a star third baseman
on the softball team, but she hadn't quite been accurate enough to be a
pitcher.  

As Danica gripped her knife and prepared to throw, she thought of her 
husband and daughter. "If I die, please let Steve and Anna know that I died
fighting like a man...I mean, fighting like a woman," she thought silently.

She drew back her arm and threw.  The knife flew through the air and drove
itself deep into the guard's chest.  He jerked, grunted, and gurgled.  She
stepped out from the jungle growth, racing towards him.  He was hit, but he
was still alive.  The knife had narrowly missed his heart.  The terrorist
tried to shout, but all that came out was more grunting and gurgling.  His
two comrades continued snoring.

Danica reached her opponent.  Without hesitation, she yanked the knife out
and drove it in again, this time straight into his heart.  He gave a final
gurgle and died.  Adrenaline flowed through her. "I did it," she thought.
"Not the cleanest, but I did it." She then pulled her knife out of his 
chest, wiped the blood off on the dead insurgent's shirt, and turned her 
attention to the other two terrorists.

The first one was lying on his back, snoring away.  His breath reeked of
alcohol.  Danica raised her right leg high and then brought it down in a
lethal stomp on the man's throat.  His snoring ceased as he slumped dead.

She turned her attention to the final terrorist, who was snoring on his 
back a few yards away.  She quietly moved so that she was standing directly
behind his head, then gave a whistle.

The terrorist awoke and sat up with a start.  Rubbing his eyes and looking 
around, he suddenly noticed that his two friends were dead.  He tried to 
reach for his rifle, but suddenly a pair of slender but very powerful
feminine thighs wrapped themselves around his neck and began choking him.

Danica smiled as she held her opponent helpless in the grip of her killer
legs. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I disturb your sleep?" she said in a seductive
voice. "Okay then, back to bed." With that, she twisted her powerful hips
180 degrees, snapping his neck.  As his corpse slumped to the jungle floor,
she added, "Sleep tight, sucker."

She then began rummaging through the terrorists' supplies.  She helped
herself to an AK-47, several spare magazines of ammunition, a pack of 
matches, and some food and water.  Continuing her rummaging, she noticed a
first-aid kit. "Ooh, this will be useful," she thought.  Picking it up, she
heard a curious sloshing sound.  She opened the kit and saw that instead of
first-aid supplies, the kit was filled with bottles of beer.  She rolled 
her eyes.

"Almost ready to go," thought Danica. "Just one more thing." She scooped up
some dirt and tossed it onto the fire, putting it out. "Never leave a 
campfire unattended," she told the three dead terrorists in a forest ranger
type voice.

She then moved off again through the jungle, away from the direction the
terrorists had come from.  She wanted to get some distance covered before
she found someplace to hole up for the night.  Finally, she decided that 
she had gone far enough.  There was a nice-looking tree next to her.  She
climbed onto it and leaned back against the trunk, trying to make herself
comfortable.

Suddenly, she heard a hissing and slithering sound behind her.  Whirling

around, Danica saw a small but very poisonous-looking snake in the tree.
She jumped in surprise, but managed to refrain from screaming.  Thinking
back to the incident with the spider in her bed, she was glad it had been a
spider and not a snake.  Somehow, snakes made her a lot more nervous than
spiders did.

The snake looked at her, seemingly unafraid of humans.  She glanced at her
AK-47, but she knew that gunshots would likely be heard by the terrorists.
Instead, she slowly and quietly drew her knife.  Still moving slowly, she
then raised it up.  Suddenly, in a fast and fluid motion, she swung the 
knife through the air, decapitating the snake.  The head and body fell to
the jungle floor separately.

Danica dropped to the ground and kicked the remnants of the snake into some
shrubbery to hide them.  If the terrorists found the decapitated reptile, 
it would be a dead (no pun intended) giveway of her position.  She then
climbed back up into the tree and tried to go to sleep.  Finally, she
dropped off into a fitful and uneasy slumber, and had many bad dreams.

The morning sunlight and the loud chirping of tropical birds woke her the
next day.  Looking around alertly, listening intently, and gripping her 
rifle tightly, she scanned the surrounding jungle for any signs of nearby
terrorists.  There were none.  She relaxed slightly, rubbing her sore back.
She ate a little food and drank a little water, then shimmied down the tree
trunk and back onto the jungle floor.

Suddenly, she heard a distinctive noise in the distance.  It was the 
unmistakable sound of a helicopter.  She hurried out from the thick cover 
of the jungle trees and into the nearest clearing as fast as she could. It
was too late, however.  By the time she got into the clearing and started
waving her arms, the helicopter was disappearing into the distance.

Dejected, Danica sat down on a fallen log.  So close.  Then she cheered
herself up a little.  If the helicopter had come by, it meant that her own
people were at least looking for her.

She thought about trying to flee the island - heading for the beach, maybe
building a makeshift raft out of logs, tied together with vines, and 
attempting to get away.  She decided against the idea, remembering from
yesterday's view up in the helicopter that it was a fair distance to any
other land.  Also, what if the new island she landed on was also under the
control of the terrorists?

She then decided to head in the direction of the beach, but to stay under
the cover of the jungle.  That way, she would remain relatively unexposed 
to any nearby terrorists, but if she heard the helicopter come back again
she could quickly run out onto the beach where she could be seen.  Danica
started off on her way, the heat and humidity making her clothes stick to
her body as she trampled through the mud.

Just then, she heard a faint but distinctive noise in the distance behind
her.  Definitely people's voices, and footsteps.  More noise came, closer
this time.  They probably hadn't seen her yet, but would be able to soon if
she didn't get away fast.  She quickened her pace, concentrating on moving
fast, moving quietly, and occasionally listening to the sounds of the 
people behind her.  She cursed (quietly) at the dense growth and uneven
terrain of the jungle that was slowing her progress.

An open, clear area loomed ahead of her.  It was not too big and her
pursuers were still fairly far behind.  If she dashed across it, she could
gain some distance on her opponents and be back under the cover of trees
before they could get to the edge of the open area.  She was about to begin
her dash when she noticed something about the open space.  A peculiar and
suspicious moist glint on its surface.  She tested it with her boot very
carefully.  Was it...? Yes, it was.  Quicksand.

Giving thanks that she hadn't gone rushing in there, Danica began making
her way around the deadly trap.  As she walked, she heard the voices and
footsteps of her enemies grow fainter, then fade out altogether. Apparently
they were just out on patrol and hadn't discovered her trail. "They could
still discover it at any time, though," she thought to herself.

Danica passed under a particularly large tree.  As she was going under it,
she heard a rustling noise from above her and looked up.  The next thing
she knew, something heavy slammed into her, knocking her to the ground and
stunning her.  Even as it happened, she knew what it was - a python.  These
very large snakes (she was really going to hate snakes after this) liked to
drop down on unsuspecting victims to stun them.  The snake would then wrap
itself around its prey and crush it to death.  

As she recovered her senses, she felt the slithery body wrap itself around
her and begin squeezing.  She fought off the urge to panic, even though she
knew she would only have seconds to live if she didn't get the snake off.
"Don't panic, Danica, just think and fight!" she told herself.

"Knife," she thought.  But it was in a sheath at her waist and the python's
body was over it as it squeezed her.  She couldn't reach it.  There was 
still the rifle, though.  She had managed to hold on to the AK-47 as she
was knocked to the jungle floor.  The sound of gunshots would draw the
terrorists to her, but she had no other choice. As strong as she was, there
was no way she could get this snake off her with just her hands.

She aimed the rifle and fired, putting three bullets into the python's head.
The crushing pressure around her midesction relaxed and she wiggled herself
loose.  The snake's dead body tumbled to the ground, the head hitting last
of all.  Danica looked at the creature and saw that it was about sixteen 
feet long, fairly typical for a snake of that type.  She then ran a check 
on her ribs.  They felt very sore but nothing seemed to be broken.  As she
looked at the dead reptile, she felt very glad that her parents had raised
her to be a tomboy instead of a prissy girl. She was also glad that she was
doing the same with Anna.

Suddenly, there came a burst of automatic weapons fire and several bullets
whistled through the leaves of a tree a few yards away.  Danica dove for
cover behind another tree and fired back at the source of the shooting.
"Out of the snake strangle and onto the firing range," she thought to 
herself.  More gunfire came, this time from a second position, followed by
still more fire, from a third position. "Shit," she thought.

She saw a terrorist lean out from behind a tree and point his weapon around,
trying to find her position.  Instantly, she fired at him, sending several
bullets into his chest.  He slumped dead to the jungle floor. "One down,"
she thought.

More bullets went zinging past her, now coming from only two different 
positions. "Better this than three," she thought. She fired back at both.  
She was a talented markswoman, but from the brief glimpses she got of her 
opponents, it was still three against one - two in one position and one in 
the second.

Danica fired another burst at the first enemy position and heard a cry of
pain, then the sound of a body falling to the ground.  She advanced with
caution, ducked for cover quickly, then fired again.  Several more bullets
spewed from the rifle barrel, then it clicked empty.  She removed the empty
magazine and reached for a fresh one.

A terrorist stepped out from behind a tree and began aiming at her.  With
lightning speed, Danica drew her knife and threw it with all her strength.
This time, the knife was dead on target and plunged into her enemy's throat.
There were now three terrorists lying on the ground near her, and one more 
still on his feet.  She was thinking it was one-on-one now, when suddenly
one of the men lying on the ground got up.  He pulled out a grenade and
yanked the pin.

Danica kicked him in the chest as hard as she could.  He went sailing
backwards and landed on his back in a brown, muddy puddle.  The grenade 
fell to the ground.  She calmly picked it up and threw it into the puddle,
then ducked behind a tree.

KA-BOOM! The grenade exploded.  The brown puddle quickly became stained 
with red. "NOW it's one more to go," thought Danica.  She reached for a
fresh magazine again and quickly reloaded her weapon.

More gunfire shelled the branches near her.  She fired back at the final
terrorist.  He fired another burst at her, then came the distinctive click.
He was out of ammunition.  Before he could reload, Danica stepped out and
aimed her rifle directly at him. "Do you surrender?" she asked, in his
language.

She wasn't sure of the exact wording of his response, but it was something
like, "I don't surrender to women."

"Have it your way then," said Danica.  She advanced on him until she was
only five feet away.  She then tossed her weapon aside.  The terrorist
grinned and put up his fists. He was three inches taller than her and about
forty pounds heavier.  Apparently, he confidently thought he could prove
the victor in hand-to-hand combat with her.  She looked forward to proving
him wrong.

The terrorist tried to kick her.  She dodged.  He then tried a punch, but
she dodged that too, then smashed her fist into his jaw.  As he stumbled,
she kneed him in the stomach, grinning as he let out an "oof." She followed
that up with a vicious one-two combination of punches into his face that
were impressively strong for a slender woman like her.

Her opponent growled and muttered an unintelligible string of curse-
sounding words.  His fist shot out in an attempt to punch her in the face,
only to be blocked by her slim but sturdy forearm.  His hands then reached
out to try to choke her, only to go flying to his groin when Danica gave 
him a good kick there.  She then did a cheerleader-style high kick to his
face, followed by a powerful kick to his gut. The terrorist let out another
"oof," groaning in pain.

For her next act, Danica performed a brutal roundhouse kick on her opponent
that slammed into the side of his head and knocked him into a tree.  He
bumped his head hard against the trunk.  She marched up to him, grabbed him
by the neck, and headbutted him.  The hit from her hard head sent his head
backward, for another rough meeting with the trunk.  As he was pinned 
against the tree, she fired a flurry of fast punches into his stomach and
face.  After doling out a vicious pummeling, she stepped back slightly and
and launched a powerful kick that slammed into his side, cracking one of 
his ribs.

"What's the matter, can't handle someone of the 'weaker' sex?" she taunted
him in his own language, wondering if she got the translation right.  The
enraged roar that the terrorist emitted conviced her that she had at least
gotten the gist of it.  She continued with a smile, "Hope you don't 'flip'
out over this." As she spoke, she did a standing back handspring, kicking
him in the jaw as she flipped. She landed back on her feet at the same time
as her opponent landed hard on his ass.  He got to his hands and knees, but
was knocked down by Danica's knee slamming into his face.  Blood stained
her (low-cut) camoflauge pants.  He started getting up again, but she sent
him down and backwards with a vicious kick to his head.

The terrorist stumbled back to his feet.  With a loud yell, he charged her. 
She pivoted and fired off a brutal side kick, abruptly ending his charge.

Danica looked at her opponent.  He was bruised, bleeding, and moaning.  In
contrast, she was uninjured, although she was quite muddy and her hair was 
messed up. "Your time will be up soon," she told him calmly.  She then
performed a front handspring to take her close to him and allow her to 
begin her finishing sequence.

She balanced on one leg and began firing fast and powerful high kicks with
the other. "Don't (kick) ever (kick) mess (kick) with (kick) a (kick)
female (kick) warrior!" (kick) She paused briefly after launching her
brutal and leggy barrage, then put all her strength into a spin kick.  As
the kick slammed into the side of the terrorist's head, there was a sharp
CRACK.  She had broken his neck.  His corpse slumped to the muddy jungle
floor.

"After all those snakes and attacks, some good news!" thought Danica.  She
then received more good news when she heard a helicopter in the distance.
She hurried out to the beach. Seeing the helicopter approaching, she waved
her arms eagerly.  The chopper began descending, landing on the beach.  A
young soldier leaned out.

"Lieutenant Colonel Cooper, I presume?" he asked.

"That's exactly right," she said with a smile as she climbed aboard. "But
please, call me Danica."

"Yes, ma'am...I mean Danica," he said. "We're very glad to see you."

"Not as glad as I am to see you," she responded as the helicopter climbed
into the air.  As the chopper headed out over the ocean, Danica reached
into her pocket and pulled out the picture of her family. "We made it," she
whispered. "I'll see you soon."

THE END

silverstar222b@yahoo.com