'The U.S. Ambassador has just been kidnapped and is being held on Kent Island by Islamic extremists,' shouts the former Marine Recon officer. 'Your objective is to rescue her alive. The most dangerous part is the insertion and extraction. Engage all contact as hostile, and neutralize with extreme prejudice.'

Neutralize with extreme prejudice? Has this guy seen 'Rambo' one too many times? But he's not smiling, and you're really there, wearing baggy combat fatigues and carrying a fake but heavy M-16. Your group of middle-aged men looks more like the cast of 'Stripes' than a special-forces unit. 'You will be extremely cautious on this mission,' the Marine barks. 'I want you to come back with all fingers and toes. I absolutely do not give you permission to die.' Nobody shouts 'hoo-wah' at that one, but it gets your attention as he explains the safety rules and sends you out to the boats to rehearse the 'insertion.'

The location: Kent Island on the Chesapeake, where the most dangerous enemy is usually a stinging jellyfish. The mission: To test Zodiac's new CZ7 'Ultimate Adventure' boat while taking part in the first Extreme Excursion experience that comes with the purchase of the $195,000 inflatable. Your group's Operation Charlie Zulu 7 is a hostage rescue, one of five scenarios that include a Lost Treasures Expedition, High-Speed Ports Tour, Sea Trials and 'An Afternoon Cruise with An American Hero.'

Since there's a real war going on, you feel a bit uncomfortable playing this game. But the big plus ' and why you're really here ' is to spend a day on the CZ7 RIB, which lives up to its pre-launch hype as the world's first extreme adventure boat. Taking its cue from the successful Hum-Vee/Hummer phenomenon, Zodiac believes that there is room in the 'civilian' boating market for a crossover boat that combines a battle-tested hull with luxury features.

But the CZ7 is much closer to the boat used by Navy SEALs and other special forces around the world than the Hummer is to the Hum-Vee. It's not a watered-down version, but the real deal. It takes the safety features the Coast Guard orders on its boats, includes items the Navy considers vital to special ops missions, and throws in high-end details to appeal to the recreational market. Military authenticity and recreational pizzazz equals the extreme price tag.

The CZ7 is built on Zodiac Hurricane's 733 7-meter (23-foot 9-inch) hull, which has been used since '86 for commando insertions, heavy-weather rescue, drug interdiction, mine patrols and force protection. Over the years, the 733 has been tweaked, but its big-water handling has remained the same. The deep-V fiberglass hull has a sharp entry forward and 24-degree deadrise aft for performance, with 22-inch tubes that provide both flotation as well as stability in rough water.

You feel the CZ7's nimbleness firsthand on the practice runs out in the Chesapeake, where you learn high-speed J-turns by using the throttles, and transfer from boat to boat while running at 35 mph. Special ops stuff. The CZ7 takes wakes with the nimbleness of a gymnast. There's a softness to the ride across big waves that doesn't go mushy in razor-sharp turns. You can see why the Coasties trust it in big water.

Driving the CZ7 turns out to be a jet-black adrenaline rush, and you streak across the bay, outpacing most other boats. The twin 150-hp Evinrude FPSXR outboards (forget 4-stroke technology; the SEALs stick with battle-proven carbureted engines) give the CZ7 a top end of 52 mph. But the speed's only half of it. The helm station has an easy-to-read military-style dash with blue-bezel Faria gauges laid out on a carbon fiber panel, and throttles just right of the wheel. It's a very fun boat to drive.

Beside the wheel you'll find a suite of Raymarine electronics: color radar, chartplotter, GPS and VHF radio. For an extra $20,000, you can get infrared night-vision technology. The CZ7 also has Volvo's GPS-based Seakey system that, among many other services, lets you alert a central station if you happen to get, ahem, lost during weekend war games.

Some of the best technology on the CZ7 is what you don't see. The operative word is 'durable.' The layup of the glass hull includes military-spec vinylester resin for blister resistance and fire retardation, and a 'Trekollan beaching shoe' on the bow that prevents hull-scuffing if you head into rocks. The five-chamber inflatable collar has a patented automatic inflation system and an 'intercommunicating valve system,' so if one tube happens to get punctured, the RIB will remain afloat. The tubes are comprised of military-spec neoprene/hypalon and are hand-glued at Zodiac's factory in Vancouver, Canada.

One benefit of the soft tube (and the many ropes and handrails along it) is that you can go diving or swimming anywhere along the inflatable tubes, and pull yourself back into it just as easily. Another is its weight capacity of 4,404 pounds ' which can translate into 12 of your friends in addition to their stuff.

But the best benefit of the tube is the soft landing you get off wave tops. Your team never actually goes airborne like they do in the brochures, but you do go over some pretty gnarly waves, and the landing is soft. The tubes are part of Zodiac's shock-mitigation system, which also includes a Skydex flooring (same material used to cushion Nike shoes), and most important, the Ullman Saddles.

The saddles were a response to the spinal injuries many special forces suffered on their way to and from battles in rough seas. These four-position saddles with internal springs let you take a pounding without feeling it. They're ideal for armchair generals like your 'team' and are just plain fun during high-speed turns, where you hold onto the seat in front and lean in. (The boat's designed to withstand 6Gs of acceleration at full load, though that's about 3Gs more than most people can endure.)

You spend a few hours tooling around the Bay, having a heck of a great time, with your Marine instructor showing little tricks of the insertion trade, like how to make sharper turns much faster by using the throttles, and nosing into docks to unload your troops quickly. Other boaters crane their necks to get a better glimpse of the pseudo-military operation.

Fun as it is, it almost goes without saying that this isn't a boat for everyone.' The price would be prohibitive to many boaters, and there are practical limitations like minimal storage (one box up front has 6.8 cubic feet of space). A portable toilet, while a standard feature for most family boats, seems like it'd be an insult on the CZ7. Real men and women are able to bite the bullet and hold it until they get back to the marina.

Still, you can't deny the quality involved in the construction and the fine attention to detail. (The CZ7 has been so successful at combining the various features that some governmental agencies are now ordering it in its civilian version for military use.) And some boaters will certainly love to see heads snap in their direction when they pilot the CZ7 through local waters. It's truly a functional fashion statement, just like the original Hummer. It has rough-water potential if you want it, although most buyers will most likely not use it.

So, how does the rescue mission go? It's fairly successful in a Keystone Kops sort of way. After three hours of training, including a bland Meals Ready To Eat (MRE) lunch of chili with macaroni, the boating team gets pumped up and makes the assault on a barren rock of an island. Your team's driver is a little hot on the throttles and jams the CZ7 into the stone wall of the island (unwittingly testing its Trekollan beaching shoe), dumping the two riflemen in the bow out onto the dirt.

The 'ambassador' ' who happens to look quite suspiciously similar to the girl who served drinks at the product launch the night before ' comes sprinting out of the bushes, and is followed by two 'terrorists' in Arab head-dress who are shooting with blank guns. After that, the girl jumps right into the boat, followed by the two riflemen who tumble back in, and the CZ7 then roars back to safety. Mission accomplished.