Escape from BOTA

[The Boss]

The Bosses and their new friend are trudging through the darkness of the veld. The driver, whom they subdued after a brief scene involving the appearance of a .45, a 9mm, and a .50 cal in that order, has been relegated to carrying three nearly full jerry cans of water, tied securely to him with strips of zebra hide. Under the circumstances, he doesn't have much choice but to cooperate if he doesn't want to be lion bait.

And this time, lions there certainly are, and each end every one so repulsed by the smell of the Spam Lite that they get up and leave the area. Even the hyenas keep their distance.

The unlikely trio slog to the top of yet another hill, repeating a pattern they've gone over enough times to have lost count.

But this time the pattern of up, over, and down is interrupted by the appearance of something entirely unexpected.

A DC-4

The cargo door is open. Men are moving heavy crates inside.

But in the predawn dusk they can also see something that the people busily loading the airplane at the "informal" airport between the hills cannot.

Over the next hill is a line of speeding vehicles with official-looking flashing lights and a purpose.

The Bosses take in the entire situation.

They look at one another.

They look again at the DC-4 as the the first of its four engines begins to turn, even before the loading is finished.

The Boss grabs a handfull of Spam Lite out of her pocket and stuffs it unceremoniously into the mouth of the man-formerly-known-as-the-truck-driver. He collapses to the dust, choking on the vile substance as the Bosses sprint for the aircraft.

Engine number two starts as they hit the bottom of the hill. The men finish their loading.

Engine number three starts as they reach the aircraft and the men begin to pull the cargo door shut.

Engine number four starts as the Bosses simultaneously hit the pilot and co-pilot on the back of the head (much as they did the guys manning the door moments ago), drag them out of the cockpit, over the crates, and pitch them out the cargo door, sliding it closed behind them.

The aircraft begins to roll as the local police crest the hill.

The wheels leave the ground as outraged bullets fired by the police pierce its tail.

And so it is that the Bosses wing away into the breaking dawn.