We'd been captured by the enemies, and tortured for weeks. Jane and I. They'd kept us awake the whole time, hoping we'd crack and reveal something vital. Not that we knew anything; we were recon soldiers, and everything we knew about the war was about them. Our briefing was 'Go into enemy territory via motor boat. Learn. Return to base in two weeks and report.'

A particularly smelly fist punched my face to one side, sending a shot of blood shooting out of my mouth. "Motherf&&ker.." I swore under my breath. The enemy snarled out something at me with some foreign tongue I didn't speak. I looked to the right and realized Jane's bonds were lying on the floor and her chair was empty. A loud smashing sound revealed Jane, having just clubbed the soldier with an empty beer bottle. With a flick of the soldier's knife, I too was untied. "Let's go," I said, taking the soldier's assault rifle.

We were trapped in some secret underground base on some godforsaken island. Together, Jane and I ran through the base, always heading up, towards the surface. We were in no state to fight off the entire island, so we hid when enemy soldiers approached. Eventually we found our way to a secluded dock, with several boats and few guards.

Together we peeked over boxes, before hiding behind them. "Kiss me," said Jane.

"Huh?" I asked.

"We're probably going to get shot to death trying to escape. We should probably set our emotions in order before we die," Jane explained.

"Fair enough." I took her face in my hands and gave her a slow, swirling kiss. It was sort-of romantic, despite the dock smelling like dead fish and piss, even though Jane's breath tasted like stale blood.

I double-checked the ammo and gave to the count of 8, before we charged out onto the pier...

... "Head back to base?" Jane asked, piloting the motorboat with one hand as removed her camaflague tank top with the other. I squinted my eyes from the beaming tropical sun, and calmly let the ocean breeze into my nostrils. Jane walked over and sat on my lap. I crunched up my face.

"You know.." I said, "It might just be the torture, the hunger, or the lack of sleep talking, but that was pretty fun back there?"

"Ah; so you're a big fan of the Tucker Telephone*, sir?" Jane asked sarcastically.
*a method of torture that involves electricity.

"I mean escaping was dangerous, and all." Jane looked at me like I was mad, but then nodded in understanding. Within a few minutes we were heading back to the enemy docks...

... I dropped trout, getting a good feel of Jane's chest as I pressed her up against a wall. With my back to the world, Jane was on look-out for guards. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, so she could keep the assault rifle ready for action. If anyone came across us, we would most likely be killed, or possibly taken back and tortured more.

Like Shakespeare said; it's best when it's dangerous.

* * *

-Originally posted February 19th 2007