Venom in the Mountain

Agent Yellow’s only assignment was to travel to the most remote part of the jungle to visit an old man named Mauricio who owned a small bar in a remote road heading to the llapatepec mountain. There was Intel that the kind old man sold bagged coconut water to tourist passing through.

It wasn’t until a few days riding on unpaved roads until Agent Yellow found that secluded bar, the little shack was barely visible through the broad girth of the old trees surrounding it. There had been a faded sign that should have been pointing to it on the ground, anyone would have missed it if they weren’t walking on foot. Agent Yellow had smudges of oil grit stains on his tan pants from the old motorcycle he rode, and his turquoise Hawaiian shirt was just as tattered, the top buttons were left intentionally undone. The bar had been in a section of the jungle closed off from the breeze circulating, containing the area in a pocket of heat that would make any visitor feel nauseous. Agent Yellow’s chest gleamed with a sheet of sweat, the moisture clinging to him was like a coat, but he had been used to the regions unforgiving climate, one hundred and ten degrees could occur casually with a chance of lightning followed by a monsoon.

Agent Yellow walked over and sat on the stool, “One shot of Burning Water, please Señor.” Agent Yellow smiled as the old man mopped the kitchen and took notice.

He walked over and took a look at his money. “Don’t have change for that.”

“It’s for my tab.” Agent Yellow said.

The old man grunted, “Pay me the total at the end.” He wiped the side of the bar with an old dirty rag that left a foul odor of sour mildew that made the Agent gag.

“Let me see if I still have that bottle,” he said as he begun to chuckle. “Just the other day, a couple of gringos wandered in.” He laughed. “Then curiosity got the best of them. They asked for something local, so of course, I offered them that same bottle of Burning Water.” He snorted. “They took a swig before their brains caught up to them, and that look on their faces…my God!” he laughed.

Agent Yellow chuckled.

Before he knew it, his stomach had begun to grumble.

“Señor?” he called out.

“Still looking!” muttered the old man.

“Do you have enough chicharron in your kitchen?”

“Mmmh!” he grunted.

“Take that as a yes.” He said. “What about masa?”

“Aye!” the old man yelled.

“In that case, if you would be so kind, one arepa and please make it mixed, but only cheese and pork, no beans.”

The old man came by with the shot glass filled with Burning Water trembling in his hand from soft tremors of old age. “My name is Mauricio, young man.”

“Pleasure, Señor Mauricio.” Agent Yellow tossed his head back and finished the shot in a single gulp. The old man looked annoyed. “Let me bring you a beer” he said. “So you can actually savor it.”

“That would be perfect”, said Agent Yellow.

When he received his beer, he took small sips and let his eyes wander to the changing green hues of the canopy jungle beyond the roads.

The bar had sat elevated above a layer of the forest that overlooked miles of dense jungle; Yellow was entranced by the wind picking up causing the branches of the trees to thrash wildly, while other parts of the jungle danced somewhat peacefully.

He stretched his legs under the bar to relax and take it all in, and then he felt something slither up the cuff of his pants. He jolted up and pointed his concealed pistol down to the direction of his feet. “You scared me to de-“ he said, what he thought was a snake was actually a small cream-colored ferret with a bandit mask pattern.

The furry little ferret had been rummaging through Agent Yellow’s pants trying to get up his leg. He must have enjoyed Agent Yellow’s musky scent. He reached his arm out so the curious critter could take a sniff of his finger. The ferret pressed his wet nose on it. “Good boy, little…whatever you are.”

The ferret had then moved on to the next interesting thing, swiftly gnawing on pieces of trash he found in the old mans basket, he found an orange peel he liked and dragged it over to a small obscured space under the bar.

Five minutes later, the old man came by with a tray of two arepas.

They looked delicious; Agent Yellow watched as the golden surface had gently burned with the melted cheese. “But, I only wanted one?” said the young Agent Yellow.

“You’re too skinny.” The old man scolded. “Just shut up and enjoy them. I’ll only charge for one.” He walked away whispering under his breath. “Cheap bastard.”

“Thank you,” said Agent Yellow.

He enjoyed the delicious meal, taking careful bites to not burn the roof of his mouth, his teeth revealing the steaming grilled seasoned pork and cheese dripped from inside. Meanwhile the wind started to pick up, more violently, and then a thunderstorm cracked the sky above, almost in an instant; the top of the trees became darkened by the clouds while they opened up unleashing the violent rain.

Señor Mauricio. Could I possibly rent a room for the night?

“Yes.” The old man said. “But, it’ll be pricey. Why don’t you give me sixty pistos” he said. “It’s not about the money” Señor Mauricio said, “but if I don’t charge you something, it’s a bad reputation for me, soon you’ll have tourist coming around to take advantage.”

“Understood” said Agent Yellow. “It’s a fair price.” Yellow rolled his bike forward under the roof and waited for Señor Mauricio to hand him the keys to the spare bedroom.

“Señor Mauricio.” He asked. “Is it true these jungles are home to those small-headed tree frog? I heard, their toxins can cause paralysis.”

“Oh, don’t be a scaredy chicken” Señor Mauricio dismissed him, looking at Yellow who had been rather tall and imposing as if he couldn’t believe what he had said. “Those yellow tree frogs are harmless, besides I keep a few of them in the garden so they can eat the flies, it started off making a fence to keep them away from “Tunco” but, a lot of them gathered and now they just spend time eating those flying pests and of course... mating all night and morning.”

“Is Tunco your rat friend?”

“He’s a ferret.” He snapped. “And he’s a good boy! Don’t give him pork!”

Agent Yellow later that night slept about two hours before he is woken up at two in the morning from two strangers knocking on the gate with a piece of a coin.

“Wake up, old man!” they whisper-yelled in Russian.

“Russians?” he whispered, “This far out?” Agent Yellow drew his gun and pointed it towards the gate from the draped window.

The old man had closed shop several hours ago, so there had been no reason for visitors. Yellow waited for them to try and cross over. He had suspected they were sent for him or the old man.

Then one of the them turned their body away from the other and begun to urinate on the gate, while the other one laughed. “I need my freakin' cigarettes, stupid old geezer!”

“Dare me to hop the gate and wake the old coot?” the friend said.

“FUCK! W-what was-?” said one of the men mid-stream, “D-did you see that?” Tunco the old man’s ferret rushed pass the gate slithering in the dark with his two tiny eyes bright as lanterns. The tourist stumbled back accidentally splashing his friend.

“You bro are disgusting bro!” he cursed in Russian.

Agent Yellow lowered his gun. “Ugh…Damn tourist…”

After bickering some more, the two men gave up and retreated back to their rentals. Agent Yellow shook his head realizing his paranoia was getting to him, he finally retreated to his cramped bed to try and catch a few more hours of sleep.

Later in the morning, Agent Yellow is woken up by a small red bird pecking at the window. He had been in and out of sleep after the tourist came by at night, so he quickly dressed for some coffee at the bar and to finish his mission of locating the tree-frogs for their toxins.

When he arrived, the bar had two visitors. A well dressed older man in his 50’s is wearing a green buttoned shirt and grey pants and dress shoes; he sat down sipping on a dark coffee. An attractive woman in an peach dress had also been there around Agent Yellow’s age, she had walked from inside the kitchen pealing and eating half of an orange.

Agent Yellow felt as if he interrupted something walking in.

“Senor Mauricio, one coffee, please?” Agent Yellow called out.

The man in green turned to him and smiled sipping his coffee. “Give el Seńor a bit, son, he might be busy looking for eggs for an omelet we ordered.”

Agent Yellow shrugged. “I could use one of those myself.”

The air felt heavy with tension, Agent Yellow felt the woman watching him, while the man in the green dress shirt slowly turned to her, cut a piece for my new friend aye, sweetheart?"

Agent Yellow turned to the kitchen and finally spotted Tunco walking his hasty footsteps across the kitchen floor, it looked as if he had been leaving a trail of water behind, but at a closer glance, Agent Yellow stared and learned it was blood dragged from the tips of his fuzzy ringed tail.

Without hesitation, Agent Yellow, the man in the green shirt, and the woman eating the orange quickly drew their guns at each other. The man in green smiled and picked up the mug of coffee to sip while still pointing his piece at Agent Yellow.

“Bravo, you killed an old man”, Agent Yellow scowled. “Your reputation for being a disgraceful monster is well-earned, Agent Green.”

The man in the Green shirt smirked, “Please. It took you long enough to draw that gun even when you suspected we were strange. Better to be cold-blooded than a foolish, amateur, tourist masquerading as an agent. You couldn’t even pinpoint who we were.”

Agent Orange spat a piece of orange to the floor while smiling at Agent Yellow. “You forgot, handsome.” She said winking.

“Come on.” Agent Yellow’s eyebrow twitched upward. “The old man kept a tidy place; the least you can do after killing him is respecting his bar, and throw that shit in the trash, little girl.”

Agent Orange was appropriately livid, 103 confirmed kills for the organization to be called a little girl. She pointed her gun up and took a step closer. “What the fuck did you say to me?” She spat the rest of the orange on the floor to get a reaction.

The tension had built up so much, the sound of a branch breaking would cause them all to shoot each other in a frenzy. Then Tunco came back and decided now he wants to eat the orange peel on the ground and his tail whipped around like a mini tornado of chaos. He startled Agent Orange and caused her to lose her composure and lower her gun slightly.

Without hesitation, Agent Yellow fired a dart, a single shot directly across the forehead which caused her to faint.

She collapsed smashing the basket the old man kept as a trash bin into a dozen pieces Agent Yellow took the opportunity to launch his self into the storage room avoiding an entire clip of Agent Green’s weapon.

“Only one of us here has more than thirty years of field experience, kid. And better connections. I could serve this country in more ways than you think, you’re just in the way besides, you’re not the only one in the agency who wants to get rid of you, aren’t you curious how me and Seńorita Orange tracked you?”

Yellow fired a few shots at Green but missed, shattering the coffee mug besides him. Green caught a small ricochet of the bullet and grazed his cheek.

They traded fire some more until it was obvious both guns had run dry.

“I’m going to find the traitor, whoever they are, after I’m done putting you in the ditch that Hell reserved for you, Green.”

“Let me speak!” Green launched a kitchen knife at the door, “Our friends in the organization are a lot more interconnected than you might want to accept. And we have a common goal.”

Green shifted his gaze from the door where Yellow had been scanning the kitchen for another knife. He spotted the little weasel again and tried to stomp at him. Yellow ran over to grab the bottle of Burning Water and smashed it across Agent Green’s head.

Green dropped to one knee, and then lashed out, kicking Yellow’s legs out from under him. Both men hit the floor and Yellow lunched at Green and as he begun to choke him. “You’re just a gimmick, Yellow. A one‑and‑done.” His voice came out in short broken gasps, “they called… you, ‘Yellow’ because you know a little toxicology. Ha…” He forced out a word before beginning to wheeze, “I’m unimpressed. “Agent Orange is the real chemical expert. Forget about paralysis, she delivers permanent solutions. She's a natural born killer.

Green jabbed his fingers into Yellow’s ribs and kicked him off.

“Ahh Shit!” Yellow cried out. “Did you ever wonder why the agency called me Green?” Agent Green said as he pushed himself up to his feet struggling to catch his breath. “I am The Viper, you don't fuck with.” With a sharp tug, he ripped his buttoned shirt off, revealing a massive olive snake tattoo across his chest, framed by his bushy grey chest hairs, his muscles were hardened but his skin told the real story, bullet scars, and wounds in places that should have killed him ages ago.” I sacrificed everything for the organization, just for some young kid to take my place, I should have been the agent promoted, not you.”

Agent Yellow stood silent then frowned holding a small metal device in his hand.

Agent Green sniffed and noticed the sharp chemical smell of the Burning Water still soaked allover his body.

“I didn't want to break my no kill rule but sometimes the garden needs to burn when the weeds are suffocating everything else trying to live” Agent Yellow said flicking the lighter towards him.

Flames erupted across Agent Green’s body. His screams were deafening. Agent Yellow stared with eyes beginning to water, he watched and waited and made sure he didn't get up.

When the fire was done burning, Yellow fell onto a chair and allowed himself to breathe and reflect.

Afterward, Agent Yellow buried the old man in his backyard marking the grave with a small wooden cross made from nearby branches. He tossed Agent Green's ashes in a bucket of paint and tied up Agent Orange around a hammock like a cocoon.

Then he walked to his motorcycle, opened the bag strapped to the back, and gently set the bag of dead yellow tree frogs inside along with Tunco. It was time to head back down the mountain and return to headquarters .