Curse of the Painted Lady (The Anlon Cully Chronicles Book 3)

by K Patrick Donoghue

  After a few more moments glancing between the map and the pictures of the ruins, Mereau said, “The site location is definitely to her advantage, except for one flaw in her thinking.”

  “What’s that?” Anlon asked.

  “Stone. There is a great deal of stone,” Mereau said, as he broke into a smile. “Here is what we will do.”

  As the group prepared to leave for the airport, Mereau pulled Anlon aside. “I have a request. I would like to visit with Malinyah before we leave. She should know of our plan, and I would like to say good-bye…just in case.”

  “Of course,” Anlon said. “I understand.”

  “Thank you. I will be quick,” Mereau said.

  They walked together to Anlon’s room. When Mereau was ready to connect with Malinyah, he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. Anlon stepped out of the room to afford him privacy and was met in the hallway by Antonio.

  “Hey, I need to talk to you,” Antonio said.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  Antonio looked up and down the empty hallway. “I don’t like the whole setup, Anlon. It’s too risky. Take these with you.” He handed Anlon an oblong, black object with a red button in its center and four silver-colored bracelets. The black object was the weight and size of a small computer mouse and carried no markings. Antonio pointed at the device. “If shit goes south, you hide behind something and press the button.”

  “What is it?”

  “Something I shouldn’t be giving you,” Antonio said.

  “Come on, Skipper. What is it?”

  Antonio wrapped his arm around Anlon and whispered in his ear, “I call it Hell’s Angel. DOD calls it PLB R7X2.”

  “What does it do?” Anlon whispered back.

  “It sends an angel into hell.” Antonio smiled.

  Anlon opened his mouth to respond, but Antonio cut him off. “Listen, it’s classified. I mean, deep-deep-deep classified. Something the FBI can’t know about. Something the Mexicans can’t, either. No one can know about it. Not even Jennifer. You understand me?”

  “No, I don’t,” Anlon said.

  “All right, fine,” Antonio whispered. “That, right there, is a military-grade personal locator beacon. It’s linked with a nasty little experimental drone that’s hovering ten thousand feet over the hotel right now. It’s gonna follow you to Calakmul. When you get there, Dylan’s gonna bring it down to treetop. Motherf—ing thing is silent. At night it will be invisible. The drone will spot you, Pebbles and anyone else registering a heat signal. It will track every movement of every person. Drone has AI. It can read a battlefield, discern hostiles from friendlies, but it won’t fire unless you press the button or Dylan commands it at his end. Once the command is given, the drone will incinerate any and all hostiles. They’ll never see it coming.”

  Anlon stared at him, mouth agape.

  “It’s some bad shit, Anlon. Just don’t lose it in the jungle, all right?” Antonio said.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. For the love of God and country, never, ever talk about it. If it comes into play, tell anyone left standing the lasers came from the Stones.”

  “What are the bracelets for?” Anlon asked.

  Antonio wrapped his arm around Anlon again. “Consider it an insurance policy. The bracelets have a trace radioactive signature. Drone can detect them. Helps it identify friendlies. Give one to Mereau, Jennifer and the FBI lady. Wear one yourself.”

  “What about Pebbles?”

  “Dylan’s got that covered. He’s not going to let anything happen to her. He’s got a thing for her, you know.”

  “So I hear,” Anlon said. He held up the bracelets. “What am I supposed to tell the others about these?”

  “Tell them they’re good-luck charms, but make sure they wear them.”

  “Why?”

  “AI’s still a little glitchy.”

  Chapter 21 – Firestorm

  Inflight over Reserva de la Biósfera de Calakmul

  Calakmul Jungle, Mexico

  October 1

  Long before the helicopter crossed over the eastern border of the Calakmul jungle, Anlon had spied the vast dark void in the distance. It had instantly reminded him of the nighttime view of Lake Tahoe when flying from Reno toward San Francisco. Amid the outline of lights from the surrounding towns and cities, Tahoe looked just as desolate, nothing more than an inky thumbprint on the landscape.

  Yet, as they drew closer to the jungle, Calakmul morphed in size. If Tahoe was a thumbprint, Anlon thought, the looming jungle was a handprint. The moment they passed over the last twinkle of civilization below, the helicopter was swallowed by an unending sea of black. Anlon squeezed the handle of the steel case on his lap and whispered, “Hang on, Pebbles. Almost there.”

  Turning to his right, Anlon observed Mereau. His eyes were alight as he gazed at the stars from ten thousand feet in the air. The large windows of the Mexican Federal Police copter afforded spectacular views of the entire horizon, and Mereau had been enchanted by the vistas above and below since leaving Chetumal. His demeanor had surprised Anlon. He had expected Mereau to lose his sea bass on the cargo-hold floor when they encountered the first roller-coaster-like turbulence. To distract Mereau, Anlon had leaned over to explain the source of the drops and yaws, telling him the bumpiness was caused by warm coastal air colliding with the cooler temperatures above the peninsula’s mountainous interior. Mereau had smiled. “The feeling is familiar, like swells on the ocean.”

  Across the cargo hold sat Jennifer and Agent Li. Along with Mereau, the two women were decked out in black SWAT fatigues and body armor provided by the Mexican police. As Jennifer applied black greasepaint to her face, Anlon smiled at her. She nudged the headset microphone close to her lips and said, “You good?”

  “Yeah. Was just thinking you’d make a mean-looking linebacker!” Anlon replied through his headset.

  “Ha! Let’s hope Muran thinks so, too!”

  While Jennifer continued to camouflage her face, Anlon looked back out the window at the endless darkness. His thoughts drifted to the earlier discussion about Muran’s choice of the ominous rendezvous point.

  Before takeoff, Anlon, Mereau, Jennifer, Li, Antonio, Henri and several Mexican police officials — one of them the pilot who would fly the copter — had gathered around a map and various satellite images in the hotel’s conference room.

  The pilot had pointed to the satellite image of the area surrounding the coordinates communicated to Anlon. It showed dense jungle for miles in every direction. At the spot where Muran’s latitude and longitude coordinates met, the image had revealed a clearing with light vegetation. According to the pilot, the clearing was roughly half a mile from the complex of Mayan ruins. Anlon recalled the image had shown the ruins as chunks of stone, poking out here and there from the canopy of the enveloping jungle.

  “The clearing is the only realistic place for the helicopter to land,” the pilot had said. “The next closest alternative is the parking area for the Calakmul museum and it is twenty miles north of the ruins.”

  Mereau had then reiterated his admiration for Muran’s selection of the exchange site. “She is shrewd. She controls every aspect of the meeting, from timing to mode of transportation, right down to the landing site.”

  “But she left herself no means of escape,” Li had objected. “She has to know that every exit will be covered, by air and road.”

  “You are wrong,” Mereau had countered. “The officers have told us the jungle is nearly three thousand square miles. She will go to ground and exit at a time and place of her choosing. It will not be an easy task to track her. If she brings her Tyls, which I believe is a certainty, she may also attempt to waylay someone visiting the site and change bodies before trying to exit. In that case, it will be impossible to track her.”

  “And don’t forget what she did to the police in Middlebury and Ticonderoga. Just because the exits are blocked doesn’t mean she can’t fight he
r way out,” Jennifer had added.

  The discussion had then shifted to the landing site. Specifically, how could Mereau, Jennifer and Li disembark to support Anlon without being noticed? The Mexican police had suggested using ropes to lower the three and an accompanying Mexican SWAT officer. The leader of the SWAT team, Major Martin Robles, had said, “The clearing sits next to the road from the museum to the ruins. The copter can drop down and hover over the road, a mile or so north of the clearing. We can rig four ropes and send down four people at once, two on each side of the cargo doors. I’ll be your fourth.”

  “But won’t Muran notice the sound of the copter hovering?” Anlon had asked.

  Robles had shrugged. “She might, but if we’re quick about it, I think we can make it work.”

  The pilot had agreed. “With all the structures and trees near the clearing, the sound of the copter will bounce all over the place at ground level. She won’t know which direction we’re approaching from. We can approach slowly, circle around the landing site, so it seems we’re looking for a place to land.”

  “Right,” Robles had said, “especially if we come in blacked out. If she can’t see the copter and can’t tell where the sound is coming from, and we don’t hover for long, it should fool her.”

  Anlon had expressed reservations about the plan, but Robles assured him they had plenty of experience with black-out operations. “Drug cartels love to grow their crops in jungles.”

  “Won’t it seem suspicious to land without lights?” Anlon had asked.

  “After what she did to the chopper at Ticonderoga?” Li had replied.

  “Good point,” Anlon had said, before turning to query Jennifer. “So, how do you feel about jumping out of a copter?”

  Jennifer’s response had ended the debate. “How do you feel about going in alone?”

  Anlon felt a tap on his arm. He turned to see Mereau standing next to him, gripping a handhold anchored to the cabin ceiling. Anlon was pleased to see Antonio’s silver bracelet on his wrist. Mereau looked to each member of the landing party and said, “Let’s run through it one more time.”

  Over the next several minutes, Anlon listened as Mereau reviewed their plan, supplemented by comments from Jennifer, Li and Robles, who would accompany them.

  First, the helicopter would lower down everyone but Anlon. Since the drop zone would be a mile from where Anlon would disembark, Robles wanted to be on the ground ahead of Anlon so they had time to run down the road to the landing area.

  Once the helicopter reached the clearing, the pilot would take his sweet time landing the copter, and Anlon was instructed to take his sweet time stepping out of the copter. The plan assumed Muran would light the clearing with flares or some other conveyance so as to clearly observe Anlon’s solo departure. Whether Pebbles and the confederate who called Anlon with the coordinates would be there was an unknown. It was also unknown whether Muran would have other accomplices on-site. For these reasons, two SWAT snipers would remain in the copter and keep anyone in the clearing in their sights during the copter’s slow ascent.

  The combination of actions was designed to protect the exposed Anlon as long as possible, giving the other team members a chance to slim the gap between their drop zone and the clearing. Anlon’s part in the plan was the simplest but most dangerous. He would wear no body armor nor carry any weapons. He would hop down from the copter wearing clothes that would make him easy to spot through the trees: a white T-shirt, tan cargo pants, and hiking boots with reflective piping along the seams. In his hand he would carry the steel case containing Malinyah’s Sinethal and the freshly minted copy of Omereau’s. In his pockets would be three items: his cell phone, a small flashlight and Antonio’s beacon. Anlon considered the cell phone somewhat useless given the likelihood of poor cellular reception in the remote jungle, but he brought it anyway, holding out hope he would be able to get a bar or two in the event of an emergency.

  The four members of the rope-jump party would dash for the clearing, expecting Anlon to delay or stall as long as possible before the exchange. Mereau reminded the group he would lag behind and encouraged them not to wait for him. Foucault’s love of cigarettes and wine had taken a toll on his body, he told them. Jennifer said she thought she could cover the mile in under ten minutes. Even though the terrain was unknown to her, she indicated the night vision glasses provided by the police would help her navigate. Robles judged her ten-minute estimate as reasonable and indicated he would be with her every step of the way. Agent Li suggested she accompany Mereau, and the two would form a rearguard in case Jennifer and Robles ran into unexpected trouble.

  They expected to take positions around the clearing perimeter and act, if necessary, to protect Anlon and rescue Pebbles. Once they were secure, Mereau and Li would pursue Muran to prevent her escape and recover Malinyah. While Jennifer escorted Anlon and Pebbles to safety, Robles would recall the helicopter for air support and then provide backup to Mereau and Li. Other police officers from the towns nearest the solitary road leading into the jungle would block the road. When SWAT armored vehicles, already en route, arrived at the jungle-road entrance, they would pass through the roadblock and drive to the ruins. As it was fifty miles from the highway to the ruins, Robles told them not to expect the armored vehicles to show up until everything was all over. As Anlon listened to the plan, he gripped the beacon in his pocket.

  The four rope-jumpers would have Bluetooth earpieces allowing them to communicate with each other. Robles and Agent Li would also carry radios capable of calling back the helicopter. Anlon, however, would have no communication device other than his cell phone. He joked he would reach them the old-fashioned way: “I’ll scream like hell.”

  When they finished running through the plan, Mereau said, “Above all else, remain calm. The exchange will not unfold as we expect. There will be things that go wrong, things Muran will do that surprise us. Keep your minds focused on the goals. Save Eleanor, protect Anlon, disable and apprehend Muran and retrieve the case with the Sinethals.”

  “Landing zone coming up on our left. Looks like they’ve prepared a welcome.” The pilot’s voice sounded out in their headsets.

  Anlon looked out the window. In the middle of the darkness, a fire could be seen.

  “Looks like torches,” Li said.

  Robles crept across the cargo hold and raised binoculars. After focusing them on the fires, he said, “They are torches. They’re set up around a landing on top of one of the pyramids. I see two people. One is laying down; the other is looking around to spot us.”

  “Laying down?” Anlon asked.

  “Yes, it must be the hostage,” answered Robles, adjusting the binoculars.

  “There’re no lights set up in the LZ,” Jennifer said.

  “Looks that way,” Mereau said. “Anlon, I think Muran is expecting you to meet her at the top of the pyramid. It’s a smart ploy. From that vantage point she will be able to see anyone trying to scale the pyramid.”

  “So you don’t think she’ll be at the clearing?” Anlon asked.

  “I would say not,” Mereau said.

  “Should we alter our plan, then? Send in Anlon first?” Li asked. “She’s above the treetops. She might spot us going down the ropes.”

  “She might spot us either way,” Jennifer said.

  “True, but if the copter heads to the clearing first, she’ll likely be more focused on watching and waiting for Anlon to climb the pyramid than anything else,” Li said.

  Mereau and Robles agreed with Li. Jennifer turned to Anlon. “You cool with that?”

  “Yeah, makes sense. I’ll just walk real slow. Give you guys time to catch up.”

  Moments later, the pilot’s voice was heard through their headsets: “LZ directly below us. Brace for landing.”

  Anlon crushed the handle of the case in his hands and exhaled several deep breaths.

  The door slid open. Anlon waved to the others and said, “Don’t be strangers.”

  The wash of
the copter’s rotors was intense. Anlon hopped to the ground and nearly toppled over. The case in his hand whipped about, testing the limit of his wrist’s strength. Ducking down, he scurried away from the open door. When he looked back he saw the door close and heard the pitch of the engine rise as the pilot revved the engine.

  He squinted through the turbulence, seeking to orient himself in the clearing. As far as he could tell, there was no one else in the darkened expanse. The copter began to rise as Anlon huddled in place. Soon it crested the treetops and disappeared. It took a bit of time before Anlon could hear properly, the decibels generated by the helicopter temporarily blocking out any other sounds.

  He was aware of his own breathing, though. Rapid huffs echoed in his head as he scanned the tree line for any sign of movement. As his ears began to clear and his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the faint glow of the torches in the distance. He stood and reached in his pocket to feel for the beacon. It was still there. Beside it was the flashlight. This he removed and clicked on. In a slow arc, he moved the flashlight toward the tree line closest to the torch glow. He saw no one. Turning in a circle, he observed the entire clearing. Behind him, the flashlight caught the outline of the road leading to the ruins. Anlon popped the flashlight into his mouth to move the case to his other hand, then pulled out the flashlight and started to walk slowly toward the road. In the distance, he could hear the engine of the helicopter fade away. He looked up and wondered if Antonio’s killer drone was looking down on him.

  Once he reached the road, Anlon’s mind turned to the task at hand. He didn’t care what Muran demanded, he would give it. He focused his thoughts on Pebbles, assuring himself that within minutes she would be in his arms and they would leave the rest to the professionals. He found it hard to walk slowly. The urge to be done with the whole affair caused his pace to quicken, though his conscience demanded otherwise.

  The road curled to the right, and momentarily the glow from the torchlights atop the pyramid was blocked by another massive stone structure. As the road edged back to the left, however, he passed the structure and the torchlights came into full view for the first time.