RACE AMAZON: Maelstrom (James Pace novels Book 2)

by Andy Lucas

  Pace began to see things a little more from McEntire’s perspective and it didn’t sit well.

  ‘He’s only out for himself, I understand that.’

  ‘And he could end up becoming a world leader. Planning elections would be a slow process; he’d have plenty of time to cream a fortune from the governmental coffers. A couple of years of power, at least, and whenever he gets voted out he can flit off with enough stolen cash to make a Saudi prince weep with jealousy.’

  ‘Very patriotic,’ sighed Pace.

  ‘Oh no, he isn’t even Brazilian? If you dig deep enough, you find out he was only naturalized a decade ago, but that’s not public knowledge. The man was actually born in Spain, of third generation Egyptian blood. He moved to Brazil when he was fifteen years old, after his parents were killed in a boating accident off the coast of Cadiz. His only living relatives were an elderly great aunt living in Cairo and a wealthy uncle in Rio de Janeiro.’

  ‘So, he opted for his uncle’s money.’

  ‘His uncle was very rich, unlike his own parents, who had been only vaguely wealthy. Cathera was suddenly thrust into a life of riches and pampering that most people only dream of. There was the money of course, and the servants, powerboats, women; you name it. He wanted for nothing.’

  ‘So what happened to turn him into a bastard?’

  ‘He was probably a bit of a nasty character anyway,’ replied McEntire airily, taking a moment to glance around the room with an appreciative eye. Turning back he continued. ‘Money did little to sweeten his disposition. In fact,’ he laughed, ‘his uncle got fed up after a few years and kicked him out. Gave him a decent monthly allowance and a small apartment on the seafront just to be rid of him, which would have been ample for most eighteen-year-olds but Cathera had tasted the really good life and he wasn’t about to give it up.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ offered Pace. ‘Lucky old uncle ends up being found dead somewhere and Cathera gets another visit from the money fairy?’

  ‘That’s what he must have thought,’ smiled McEntire, picking some invisible fluff off his elegant silk tie. ‘A road traffic accident claimed the uncle and the car burned up along with his body. There were no other relatives. The aunt has passed on, childless. The uncle had no wife or children himself, just a great number of mistresses. Cathera must have been drooling at the prospect of the inheritance.’

  ‘Was he disappointed?’ Pace was intrigued by the story and the manner of the man being revealed. He wanted to know more. ‘Go on,’ he encouraged, feeling like an impatient child at bed-time, urging his parent for one more story before lights out.

  ‘Cathera was named in the will as a major beneficiary, something in the region of twenty million American dollars. That was a quarter of a century ago now, and a huge fortune. The only catch was a clause that stipulated death in suspicious circumstances would mean forfeiture of all assets to a judicial trust until a satisfactory investigation was concluded.’

  ‘Dying in a car crash is fairly common. It hardly constitutes a suspicious death.’

  ‘Had the car been able to burn for a little longer there wouldn’t have been a problem. The emergency services were quick to respond and put the fire out before the body was too badly cremated.’ He paused and the pause lengthened.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And,’ he continued, ‘two bullet holes changed an accident to murder.’

  ‘I assume there was an investigation. What did it turn up?’

  ‘In a way, Cathera had covered his tracks too carefully. Whoever he hired to do the dirty deed left no trace evidence. No arrest meant no conclusion to the investigation.’

  ‘And no money?’

  McEntire shook his head. ‘He was smart. He used the wealth he already possessed to grease the right palms. It took him the best part of a year but he got the cash. Then he used a great deal of it to buy a political career.’ He added slyly. ‘At least three of his known opponents met premature deaths in the early days of his political life. He would never have risen so high without his wealth to smooth the ride. Getting in his way became dangerous.’

  ‘Tell me about this coup.’

  ‘Cathera wanted another shot at the top job. Chanced his arm. So he found himself a greedy, high-ranking soldier based in Brazilia. A guy named Orsha. Then he decided to move against the race to start the process rolling. With the world’s media already here, he obviously thought it was a good time. Risky though, with so many soldiers and police drafted in for the event.’

  McEntire did not mention any of his own reasons for running the race in the Amazon. Secret arms deals to remove weapons of mass destruction from circulation was definitely on a need to know basis. Pace didn’t need to know.

  ‘He did all this for a power grab?’

  ‘Yes. It’s not gone well for him, so he’s getting desperate. The President has a very popular base in the military and the numbers Orsha fielded just weren’t enough. He’s already been executed.’

  ‘Is that legal?’ Pace wondered aloud.

  ‘Of course not. Officially he committed suicide in his apartment.’

  ‘Does that mean that we’re safe now? A lot of very decent people are dead because of him. What is the army doing about the men he sent here to get us?’

  ‘Nothing at the moment. They are too busy. Cathera will probably pull them out now anyway, and make a run for a friendly country. You should be alright. How is my little girl, by the way? I didn’t want her to go into the jungle but she can be fiercely determined. She must like you.’

  ‘Glad to hear it. On that note, I need to get back to her.’

  McEntire signed off and Pace headed back to his tent, head filled with information.

  Cezar Cathera had a lot to answer for.

  13

  After stopping to relieve himself in one of the small toilet tents dotted around the camp, Pace returned to Sarah.

  She was still asleep but rolled over and opened one eye as he was replacing the netting skirt. Her other eye popped open and she looked him up and down quizzically.

  ‘Nice outfit,’ she quipped. ‘You shouldn’t walk around a military camp looking like that,’ she yawned, ‘you never know what might happen.’

  ‘I’m touched,’ he retorted, hanging it back on its peg and joining her on the floor. Sliding over, she put her arms around him and kissed his ear. She snuggled against him, unwrapping the sheet from herself and sharing it with him.

  ‘I bet it was a surprise hearing me on the radio,’ she smiled.

  ‘It was the nicest surprise I’ve ever had,’ he replied truthfully. ‘I thought I was imagining it at first.’

  ‘I had no idea all of this was going to happen when I left that morning to meet my father’s flight,’ she explained. ‘I found a note in my cabin and just assumed it had come in from the radio room. Doyle McEntire often changes his plans at the last minute, especially when he wants to make surprise visits to his pet projects. He likes to keep everybody on their toes, you see.’

  Pausing to plant a kiss on his lips, she pressed herself closer against him, her warmth arousing in every way. They were so close there was no way Pace could hide it from her and she snuggled even closer, smiling knowingly. He wanted to know what had happened to her but it was an hour later before they finished with each other and she could continue with a story to rival his own.

  ‘Where was I? Oh, yes,’ she remembered. ‘I just took the note at face value and didn’t question it. I headed out to the airport, as the note instructed. A taxi that had been pre-booked for me. There was nothing out of the ordinary,’ she explained. ‘It was painted in the normal livery of a local company and the driver took me out towards the airport.’

  ‘So far, so good.’

  ‘I sat in the back and was pouring over the schedules for some of the invited dignitaries. I didn’t notice the cab pulling into the kerb. The first I knew was when the doors on either side of me flew open and two men jumped in, pinning me between them. I didn’t even have time
to open my mouth,’ she told him. ‘I was so surprised it was as if my brain wouldn’t accept what was happening. My arms were pinned to my sides and one of them put a hand went over my mouth as the cab headed back out into the traffic.’ She shuddered and Pace gave her a squeeze. ‘It all couldn’t have taken more than five seconds. The streets were full of people but I don’t think anyone had time to notice.’

  ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘One of the men spoke very calmly and told me that they’d been sent by my father. They had a letter from him, which I knew was from him. He hates using computers for personal mail and so he handwrites every private letter he sends. I recognised the handwriting straight away.’ She sat up, exposing her firm breasts as the thin sheet slipped down to settle on her creamy thighs.

  Pace was thunderstruck. ‘Your father sent men to kidnap you? Why on earth would he do that?’ McEntire had failed to mention that little piece of information in their video call.

  ‘The letter said I was in danger by being close to you. It said that he needed me somewhere safe while he sorted out some group that was planning to hijack the race.’

  ‘He knew things were looking that serious right at the start? And he let us run anyway?’ Pace was stunned, and definitely needed a follow-up chat with her father.

  ‘I don’t understand why, but it’s true. I was driven out of the city to a beautiful mansion owned by one of my father’s political associates. I was confined to the house, and told to wait until he came for me. Armed men guarded me night and day.’

  ‘But your letter?’

  ‘They made me write it so that you wouldn’t get suspicious. My father needed the race to continue. He said he was sure that he could handle the security issues once I was out of the way. They told me what to write, James. I didn’t mean any of those things but I knew you would try and find me if I didn’t make you think I’d gone. My father’s letter said I had to make you believe I had left Brazil. It said that you were only in danger as long as these people thought I was close to you.’ She paused, face flushed and close to tears. Her words dripped with sincerity. ‘I thought I was protecting you, and us. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It seems it was the race that Cathera was after,’ Pace muttered.

  ‘Nobody knew how serious Cathera was,’ she explained. ‘Even the men guarding me, when they were finally allowed to discuss it, said that the best place for the competitors was running the race. They were confident government troops would contain any problem quickly. Apparently the army down here doesn’t mess about with that sort of thing.’

  He couldn’t say if she was right or not but he had seen how ruthlessly efficient the rebels were, first hand. ‘Your father should have told me, especially after he knew about my sister. I nearly walked out on everything. Thinking I’d lost you too made things worse.’

  ‘Amanda? He told me, and I’m very sorry. I wish there was something I could say that would help but I know there won’t be. What happened to her was an evil thing.’

  ‘I hadn’t seen her in years, or spoken to her. My fault really, but it makes it worse. I look at all the time I wasted when we could have been there for each other. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, then again maybe it would have. Like too many good people recently, she’s dead and she shouldn’t be.’

  Sarah decided to say no more but just to hold him for a while. They lay together, lost in their own emotions for another twenty minutes before the mood lifted and they got up.

  Sarah dived into the shower while Pace made a fresh pot of coffee. While she was showering, a pronounced cough from outside the tent grabbed his attention. He had to wear the dressing gown again because there was nothing else.

  He lifted the flap of netting and slipped outside for the second time that morning. The camp was still deserted except for the same soldier as earlier, this time standing with a neat pile of clothing in his arms. Before turning to leave, the soldier slipped a familiar weapon off of his shoulder and handed it to Pace.

  The Sten had been cleaned and oiled. The soldier also handed over a box of fresh ammunition. The unknown cleaner had already reloaded the two magazines he had taken from Byrne.

  ‘Interesting choice,’ commented the soldier, no more than twenty-five years old but staring through eyes filled with memories beyond his years. ‘You must have been in real trouble to use that antique.’

  ‘You never know just how big the mosquitoes will get this time of year,’ Pace shot back with a smile.

  ‘One of the lads tidied it up for you and he wants first refusal if you ever want to sell it.’

  ‘Thank him for me and tell him I’ll keep it in mind.’

  The soldier informed him that there was to be a meeting in the command tent in half an hour’s time. Both of them were invited to attend. Pace told him that they would be there.

  Outside, the heat was pushing into the high eighties. The sky gleamed pale blue above the clearing, with only wispy clouds scudding across intermittently a thousand feet up. Humidity was lower than before and the jungle all around seemed peaceful and safe. The sights and smells were familiar and wonderful as he stood there for a minute, soaking them up.

  When he’d ducked back beneath the netting and poured two cups of coffee, Sarah stepped out of the shower. Pace had tucked the Sten gun at the back of the tent before she appeared and saw no reason to make a big deal out of it. He slipped out of her dressing gown and handed it to her, along with a towel, before taking to the shower himself. He deliberately avoided looking at her dripping body. She was gorgeous but they had a meeting to attend.

  By the time he came out of the shower, she had dressed in cropped, knee-length blue jeans and a long-sleeved, white cotton blouse. Her hair was already dry in the warmth of the tent and had been brushed to a glossy shine.

  Pace dried quickly and dressed in the clothes supplied by the soldier. They had managed to guess his sizes accurately and the supplies had come straight from the Quartermasters stores. By the time he finished dressing, there was nothing to distinguish him from any of the other soldiers; he wore a black combat suit comprising trousers and front-zipped jacket. Added to this was a webbed belt, minus gun pouch thankfully, around his waist and a pair of military boots that fitted, albeit a little snugly. It felt strange to be wearing clean clothing again.

  ‘Very dashing,’ quipped Sarah from behind him.

  ‘As long as this doesn’t mean I’ve signed up,’ he shot back. ‘I never was very good at taking orders.’

  ‘So I’ve heard,’ she replied quietly. He eyed her quizzically for a second, then let the comment pass.

  They were about ready to head across to the meeting. The pile of clothing had also thoughtfully come with a bar of soap, canister of shaving foam, razor, toothbrush and paste. A quick scrub of his teeth and they were walking over to the command tent, circling the edge of the clearing as they went. Nobody crossed the clearing unless they were going to, or from, the camouflaged Osprey, Sarah had instructed him. It was too risky, especially during daylight hours.

  As if to emphasise the fact, a slight buzzing in the distance slowly grew louder until it became recognisable as the beating rotors of a helicopter. They reached the command tent netting just as it buzzed by, almost directly overhead.

  Their clearing seemed terribly exposed to Sarah but Pace knew from hard experience how difficult it would have been to spot anything from a helicopter, even if it was hovering directly overhead. The aircraft; a green painted Sea King, flew on by at an altitude of about twelve hundred feet. It did not change course or slow down and gradually the engine sound faded away into silence.

  The command tent was full this time, with about a dozen soldiers all similarly dressed to him. Black combat suits were obviously the norm. Baker had everyone sitting down in a semi-circle; three rows deep, facing him. There were still a few canvas chairs empty at the back so they slipped into them. Baker spotted them enter and nodded an acknowledgement. Pace nodded back.

  ‘Now that ever
ybody is here,’ Baker said crisply, ‘we need to run over today’s plan.’ There was no flipchart or screen for him to work from. Everything was going to be committed to memory. ‘As you know, last night’s engagement gave us a good result. We picked up two bodies but were forced to engage hostile forces who were in possession.’

  ‘So they know we’re here now, sir?’ A young man, broad-shouldered and of Hispanic ancestry, posed the question from the front row.

  Baker nodded. ‘Yes, Sanchez. To be more precise they know that someone is down here. None of the hostiles lived to tell about the encounter. Their command will be at a loss to account for their absence but they will quickly put two and two together.’

  Pace had become used to strange situations and hardly found himself surprised at this mention of more death in the jungle. He wasn’t sure if the bodies mentioned had been recovered alive or dead, so raised his hand. Feeling momentarily like a foolish schoolboy, he posed the question.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Baker. ‘For the benefit of the civilians present, the two people we recovered last night are still alive. They were being transported back, I assume from wherever they were captured, down through territory north-east of the final checkpoint, close to the river. Our team intercepted the target and managed to retrieve them alive.’

  It was great news that more people were alive. ‘Who are they?’ asked Sarah quickly.

  ‘I don’t have their names yet,’ Baker admitted. ‘By the time we got back here, they needed medical attention, food and rest. I’m going to debrief them myself, straight after this meeting. You are both welcome to join me if you wish,’ he offered.

  They both agreed immediately and Sarah’s face beamed with anticipation.

  The survivors had been put together in a tent across the clearing from Sarah’s, with two soldiers standing guard outside the entrance. As Baker, Pace and Sarah approached, the guards both threw him a smart salute and stepped aside. He called out to the unknown people inside that he wanted to come in and a muffled reply gave the permission. Not pausing, Baker lifted the camouflage netting and disappeared inside. Sarah went next and Pace followed.