A fairly long installment to make up for the shortness of the last one.  Here it is.
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                    When Worlds Collide: Part 3

     "Status," said Torres.
     "No tangos in sight," replied Campbell.  "Tango" was their word for "threat".
     "Alpha, initiate," replied Torres.  Given the word, Jackson lit his butane torch and started
to cut through the fence.
     "Careful now," said Campbell.  "That thing glows."
     "I know," said Jackson.  "I'll have it done quickly.  Lookout post, stay alert."
     "I gotcha," said Campbell.  Jackson cut in a squarish pattern about two meters high and
one meter wide, big enough for about two people to squeeze through at a time.  He finished cutting
the bottom, catching the section of fence before it clattered onto the ground.  He then turned off
the torch.  Checking once again for armed patrols, Tauer, Campbell, Jackson, and Torres snuck in.
     The lights were dim, but bright enough to see.  The mercenaries were worried that the
white blotches in the camouflage pattern they wore would give them away.  They saw their ship no
more than thirty meters away.  It was about the size of a large motorhome.
     "There it is," said Campbell.  The door to the ship was still wrenched off.  Hopefully,
nobody had taken anything from it yet.  Getting inside the ship was no problem, and no alarms
were tripped when they got in.
     Torres flicked on his flashlight and saw several large ammo boxes.  Some were
approximately one meter by seventy centimeters, while others were smaller; about seventy by
forty centimeters.  Torres opened up one of the ammo boxes.  He found four pairs of night vision
goggles inside... just what he wanted.  He slipped the goggles on over his eyes, deciding earlier to
forego wearing his mask.  The room was illuminated by a green haze.  Torres turned off his
flashlight.  The other mercenaries took a pair and put them on.  Next, Torres opened another crate
that was nearby.  The crate was labeled "Heartbeat Sensors."  He took out the four handheld units
and handed one to each mercenary.  They now had night vision and the ability to detect anyone
coming.  Finally, he found a couple more crates labeled "MP5A2, SD"  He opened the crates and
fished out four silenced MP5 submachine guns.
     "Take these," he said.  "They'll be better for this kind of operation."  The mercenaries
took them and put their rifles in the crates.  Torres found the ammo, and pretty soon, each
mercenary had four extra magazines at their disposal.
     "Alright," said Jackson in a hushed whisper.  "Now, we just start taking everything out?"
     "Yeah," said Torres.  "But use your heartbeat sensors first."  
Jackson made a full circle with the heartbeat sensor and picked up movement.  
     "Shh... someone's coming," he whispered.  The mercenaries stood still.  Torres looked out
the door and watched two armed guards walk along the fence, circling the perimeter.  They passed
quickly.
     "Those dumb shits," whispered Torres.  "They didn't even see what we did to the fence." 
The mercenaries started picking up ammo boxes, two and three at a time, and hauled them out. 
Staying alert, they walked towards the fence until they disappeared over the hill.  They loaded the
gear in the back of Chance and Jakes' blue pickup truck.  Approaching the hill again, their
heartbeat sensors picked up another patrol.  The mercenaries hid until they passed.
     "We may have to abort for whatever reason," whispered Torres.  "So, let's just try to get
as much stuff as we can.  We should only need two more trips."
     "Affirmative," said the others.
     Sneaking back in, they gathered more ammo crates and snuck back out.  They narrowly
avoided running into another guard, but managed to load the weapons into the back of the truck. 
They went back in for the third and final time, grabbing what was left of the equipment and
hauling it out.
     While carrying out the last load, the mercenaries got about halfway to the truck before
seeing a small ship land near another section of the fence.  They barely saw about six or seven slim
figures rush out.  One of the figures used an electric hand saw to cut through the fence.  Then, they
quickly ran in towards the ship.
     "Who the hell are they?" whispered Campbell.  The figures wasted no time in getting
there, and once there, proceeded to fire darts at the mercenaries without discrimination.  The darts
bounced harmlessly off of the mercenaries' PCV's, but that didn't stop the soldiers from getting
angry.
     "We're gonna kick your ass!" yelled Campbell.  The mercenaries opened fire on the
attackers.  The clicking of the bolts was all that could be heard as the 9mm hollow point bullets
pounded into the bodies of some of the attackers, effectively flooring them.  Many of them swiftly
dodged the bullets, however, and Jackson was kicked in the head as he attempted to change
magazines.  In the distance, four more of the ninja-like attackers rushed in.  At this point, a loud
BWEEEE---BWEEEE---BWEEEE sound rang across the field, accompanied by spotlight beams
scanning the area.  The alarm had been tripped.
     The attackers ran off, outpowered by the bullets.  They signaled the other attackers to
retreat.
     "Oh, no you don't," said Campbell.  He quickly opened a crate he was carrying and took
out an item that the label depicted: a TOW rocket launcher.  He aimed it at the enemy ship and
fired as the attackers drew near it.
     FWOOOSSSHHHH!  The rocket sailed through the air and slammed into the wing of the
ship.  A thundering explosion rang through the night as the fire mushroomed and faded into
smoke.  A smoldering, sparking crater was all that remained of the left wing of the ship.  Shards of
metal and debris flew everywhere.
     "Now you're in this too!" yelled Campbell, grinning and flashing the middle finger.  The
attackers looked, stunned, at their now useless getaway vehicle.  They panicked and became
desperate, keeping their weapons at high ready.
     "Let's get the fuck out of here!" yelled Torres.
     "Wait!  There's something I forgot!" yelled Jackson.
     "Fine, fine, but hurry for chrissakes!" yelled Torres.  Jackson was in and out of the ship
within a matter of seconds, carrying a black box and a microphone.  Armed security guards ran out
of the buildings with rifles in hand.  The mercenaries ran back to the truck as their PCV's absorbed
occasional rounds of laser fire.  Campbell turned around and fired his MP5 at the guards.  The
guards ran for cover as the silent bullets ricocheted off of the pavement.
     "The radio!  *pant* Thank God!"  They hauled the last of the equipment into the back of
the truck.  The armed guards were in hot pursuit, but the three-way war pitted the other attackers
against the guards, giving the mercenaries enough time to jump into the truck and start the engine. 
Aided by their night vision, they did not need to turn their headlights on.  A few guards came over
the hill, but quickly lost sight of the mercenaries as they vanished like a shadow into the night.

     The small pickup truck rolled down the empty streets of rural MegaKat City.  The
mercenaries now had their lights on and had turned off their night vision goggles.  Jackson drove,
with Torres in the adjoining seat, and Campbell and Tauer riding in the cramped seats behind
them.
     "That was too damn close!" said Tauer.  "Hey, did anyone get the BDU's?"
     "Yeah, I got 'em," said Jackson, the driver of the vehicle.  "They were in an ammo box
too.  I didn't see anything we missed when I got that radio."
     "It's a damn good thing you DID, Jackson," said Torres.  "Fuckin' good thinking, man. 
We could've been stranded without that thing."
     "Well, does the damn thing work?" asked Campbell.
     "Probably not," said Jackson.  "But, I might be able to fix it."
     "Heh.  Good luck," said Campbell.  "Hey, where the hell are we anyway?"
     The mercenaries looked around.  Nothing but flat, open plains surrounded the single road. 
They started to believe they might be lost.
     "Hell, I don't know," said Jackson.  "I thought we were going the right way.  We're good
on gas, so we should be able to keep going."  A couple of raindrops fell on the windshield, and
more could be heard pattering on the roof of the truck.
     "Great," grumbled Jackson.  "Hold on."
     Jackson pulled over to the side of the road and got out of the truck and found a
waterproof tarp and some rope in the back of the truck.  He draped the tarp over the back of the
pickup truck to protect the equipment from the rain and secured it with the rope.  The rain was
starting to pour heavily.  Jackson got back inside the truck and started going down the road again. 
He turned on the windshield wipers.
     "Well, I don't know where the hell we're at, but I can see the city behind us," said Tauer. 
"You want to look at the city?"
     "Oh, hell no," said Torres.  "We want to stay out of that goddamn city.  Going in there
would be suicide."  
Jackson yawned and rubbed his eyes.  His watched showed the local time to be 0214
hours.  He had set it according to Chance and Jakes' clock earlier.
     "Oh, man.  I don't think I can keep driving," he said.  "I'm tired."
     "I'll drive if you want," said Torres.
     "Be my guest," said Jackson.  He pulled over again and the two traded places.  Jackson
set his head against the side of the door and shut his eyes as Torres pulled away and continued the
drive.  
     "We've got to find out where the scrapyard is," said Jackson.  "Where did we come
from?"
     "You were going in the right direction," said Torres.  "This is the way we came.  It's just
too dark to see anything.  Wait... I have an idea."  Torres put the night vision goggles on again.  He
had to turn off his headlights to cut out the glare, but was able to make out buildings along the
horizon.  Driving further into the desert land, he saw a familiar sight: the piles of scrap metal.
     "There it is!" he said.  
     "Thank god," said Campbell and Tauer at the same time.  Jackson muttered something in
his sleep.  Torres found the stretch of road leading up to the building, and eventually pulled up to
it.  He saw the sign on the front reading "MegaKat Auto Club," which confirmed the finding.  Just
as they pulled up, Chance and Jake ran out the front door and shouted excitedly at the mercenaries.
     "Come on!  Quick!  Check out what's on the news right now!"
     "Huh?" muttered Jackson.  
Torres backhanded him lightly on the face a few times.
     "Hey, stop it, you fucker," Jackson slurred out.
     "Wake up, maggot," said Torres.  
     The mercenaries yawned, stretched, and got out of the truck.  They shuffled into the
shack, tired, but kept awake by the two kats' enthusiasm.  On the television inside, Ann Gora was
at the scene of the mercenaries' raid along with Commander Feral.
     "I'm glad to report that we have the criminals in custody," said Feral.  The mercenaries
were shocked.
     "What the hell?" said Campbell.
     "They surrendered after security destroyed their ship.  They're already spilling
information about Dark Kat.  I expect they'll be in the slammer for a long time!"
     The mercenaries breathed a sigh of relief.  "Oh," said Tauer.  "THOSE guys."
     "Who the hell is Dark Kat?" asked Jackson.
     "But, other security agents here at MegaKat Technology and Research told us they
weren't the only intruders," continued Ann Gora.  "They said there were other intruders who
resembled the aliens that crash-landed on this planet no more than twenty-four hours ago. 
Everything inside the alien ship was stolen.  They think the aliens went back for their gear.  What
do you have to say about that?"
     "Well... I'm not DOUBTING that as a possibility," said Feral.  "But, I'm certain that this
is strictly the work of Dark Kat.  Who knows what he could be planning with the kind of
technology that could be in that ship!"
     "But who stole the items from the ship if the attackers surrendered?" asked Gora.
     "I would expect Dark Kat would have a backup escape plan just in case their primary
escape plan failed," said Feral.  "And, I think they used it."
     "Okay, thank you, Commander Feral," she said.  Feral left the gaze of the camera.  Gora
watched him leave, and then muttered at a voice between a grumble and a whisper, "He's full of
shit."
     Chance, Jake, and the mercenaries burst out laughing.  Not even Chance or Jake had
heard Gora say anything like that on live, public television.
     "Holy crap," said Campbell. 

Gora started to move onto another topic when Chance flipped off the TV.
     "Well... where are we gonna sleep?" asked Campbell.
     Chance scratched his head.  "I don't think we have any room.  Unless you can sleep on
the floor."
     "Well... we have stuff in those crates," said Tauer.  "We could sleep on the floor for
tonight."
     "Yeah," said Campbell. "I think we might have to." 
 Jackson agreed. 
 Torres reluctantly agreed, still not trusting the two kats.  He went out to get the large,
industrial-size ammo crates with the sleeping supplies in them.  He promptly returned with them
and laid out the two large floor paddings and the four government-issue mountain mummy bags.
     "Hey, nice job on that sting operation, by the way," said Chance.  "Tomorrow, can we see
what all you made out with?"
     Torres hesitated.  But the other mercenaries were more than willing to.
     "Sure thing," said Jackson.
     "We'll show you the weapons of OUR world," said Campbell.  "I think we've even got
satchel charges in there," he added, grinning.
     "Yeah," said Tauer.  "But we'd like to see your weapons too sometime."
     Torres finished laying out the mummy bags on the floor, secretly scorning the
mercenaries for trusting the kats.  He told them it wasn't a good idea.  He was the Green Beret. 
But then again, he thought, Campbell was an Army Ranger.  He was in Special Forces too, so he
must have good judgment.  The other mercenaries continued to talk to Chance and Jake.
     After Chance and Jake had gone to bed, the mercenaries had settled down and climbed
into their mummy bags.  They had turned out the lights and were ready to sleep.  
     "Hey, Torres," whispered Campbell.
     "What?" asked Torres.
     "I think those two are gay," said Campbell, snorting a little bit with laughter.
     "Yeah, you must like that, huh?" replied Torres.
     "Screw you," said Campbell.  He then turned to Tauer.  "They're gay, aren't they?"
     "I dunno... I don't really give a damn if they are," replied Tauer.
     "I think they are," said Campbell
     "What?" asked Jackson, half asleep and drooling on his pillow.
     "I said I think they're gay," said Campbell.
     "What?  Don't tell me I'm gay... son of a bitch..."  
Campbell shrugged as Jackson drifted back into sleep, soon followed by the others.