I recognized one of the freedom fighters.

Underneath her camouflage fatigues were two luscious love mounds.

She had her hair frizzed up.

She had obviously watched a lot of Che Guerra movies.

'Keep quiet until you are spoken to,' she said.

In the back seat were two hardened fighters. They were wearing eyeliner and mascara. They were Mohammed wannabes.

Sitting between them was Max and Me.

One of them was very chesty. She was wearing black lip gloss.

'Shhhhhh,' she gestured by putting her finger on her luscious full lips, yes her nails had black glossy nail polish on them too.

I played mum while we dashed down dirt roads, first into the light jungle,  then into triple canopy jungle.

Half an hour later, we had entered the virgin jungle, untouched by the outside world.

Max didn't look concerned.

'Where the fuck are  the arms,' asked the leader who was driving the jeep. He was a sinewy man who had also watched too many Che Guerra movies.

'You'll get the fucking arms when I see the fucking money,' said Max, in his best Lord of War impression.

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