The Anthrax Protocol

by James Thompson

Bear thought for a moment and then cursed softly to himself. “Damn, they’re on to us,” he murmured into the radio.

  “How?” Jinx asked. “We’ve been damn careful to stay well back and keep our noise to a minimum.”

  Bear was perplexed. He had no idea how the group ahead had sensed they were being followed. He stood up, scratching his head, looking around the camp for some clue as to how they’d betrayed their position.

  Then he saw it. A small plume of smoke from their low campfire was curling up into the night air and bending toward the trail that led to the group ahead of them.

  He keyed his radio. “Jinx, can you smell anything?”

  “What . . . ?” Jinx asked, and then he paused, sniffing.

  “Damn, Boss. I can smell our fire. It smells like a damn barbeque.”

  Bear nodded, trying to think what the group would do now. He doubted they’d try to come back after them. Hell, even though they were carrying Armalites, they were doctors and academics, not soldiers. They’d probably just huddle in their tents, terrified of what the smoke might mean. Most likely they’d think they were dealing with narco-traffickers or other Indio natives.

  “Hey Boss,” Jinx whispered again.

  “Yeah?”

  “The main man is slipping out of the lady’s tent with his rifle and he’s sneaking back down the trail right at you.”

  Bear chuckled. So much for assumptions. Evidently the doctor had more balls than he’d given him credit for.

  “Stay put, Jinx, and make sure nothing else goes wrong.”

  Bear whirled around and gave a low whistle, their signal for immediate battle stations. His men came immediately awake, their hands on their weapons. “Hustle up!” Bear urged in a low voice. “We’ve been compromised. We’ve got to clear camp fast and make it like we were never here.”

  “How long’ve we got?” Hoss asked as he scrambled to his feet.

  “Probably about twenty minutes,” Bear answered. He figured they were about three miles back of the group ahead, and he didn’t think the doc could cover that in less than half an hour without using a flashlight.

  “Soon as we’ve packed up and policed the camp, melt into the brush and hunker down. I don’t think the man will search very far off the trail.”

  Blade pulled his long knife out of his scabbard. “Why don’t you let me take the bastard out?” he asked with a wicked grin.

  Bear sighed. “Why don’t you shut up and follow my orders . . . unless you think you’re ready to assume command of the unit?” Bear snarled menacingly.

  The smile faded from Blade’s lips. “Someday you’re gonna go too far, boss,” he growled.

  “Yeah? Well, until then, or until you think you can take me, get your ass in gear and get this place scrubbed down tight.”

  * * *

  Mason inched his way down the trail, making as little noise as he could. There was a half moon, which gave off just enough light for him to keep from wandering off the trail into the jungle and getting lost.

  He backtracked for over an hour and found nothing to indicate anyone was following them. At one point he thought he could pick up a faint whiff of wood smoke, but he found no evidence of a campfire or of any disturbance in the surrounding bush to show a camp had been made.

  Finally he sighed and straightened up, easing the cramped muscles in his back from walking crouched over for the past hour and a half. He looked around, shaking his head. “Guess I was just being paranoid,” he mumbled to himself.

  He put the rifle strap over his shoulder, snapped on his flashlight, and walked back up the trail toward their camp. As he whistled softly in the darkness, he was unaware of the eyes that watched him from nearby bushes and of fingers on triggers in case he saw them.

  Chapter 28

  By the time they reached the outskirts of Motzi’s village, Mason and Lauren were exhausted, while Motzi looked as fresh as if he’d just stepped out for a short hike in the woods.

  As soon as he saw some of his young friends up ahead, Motzi began to yell and wave and run toward them.

  The boys gathered around him, slapping him on the back and asking questions about what it was like working with the Americanos up north.

  They quickly became silent when they noticed Mason and Lauren straggling up the path to the village, looking as if they’d been dragged through the jungle instead of walking through it.

  As Mason and Lauren approached, a small, dark man waved the children aside and stooped to embrace Motzi, grinning from ear to ear.

  Motzi looked toward Mason and Lauren and began speaking rapid-fire Nahuatl, explaining who the man and woman were.

  After a moment, the man looked up at them and smiled. In broken English, he said, “My son say you friends. He say you help him many time. I am Fernando . . . his father.”

  Lauren smiled back as she pulled twigs and leaves out of her tangled hair. “Yes, Guatemotzi is our friend, Fernando. He brought us here to meet a curandera to see if she could help us.”

  Fernando’s forehead wrinkled and he glanced at his son, who quickly began to explain to him in Nahuatl about the plague that was killing millions of people across the world and how it was caused by the “bleeding sickness” that used to kill newcomers to their village.

  Fernando nodded gravely and motioned for Mason and Lauren to follow him. He turned and walked toward the far end of the village where a grass-roofed shack stood off by itself. The front of the shack had colorful designs and pictographs painted on the walls in different colored clays.

  There was a post stuck in the ground in front of the shack. It had a small, black cast-iron bell affixed to the top.

  Fernando stepped up to the post and rang the bell one time, and then he stepped back and stood with his hands clasped in front of him.

  After a moment, a woolen blanket that served as the shack’s front door was pulled aside and a very pretty woman of indeterminate age stepped through. She was of a slim build and had hair that was an almost iridescent white color that hung down to her shoulders. Her eyes were so dark a brown as to almost be black and gleamed with intelligence.

  Fernando began to speak rapidly in Nahuatl but she stopped him with a raised hand as she stared first at Mason and then at Lauren.

  “Hello,” Mason said, inclining his head in a gesture of respect. “I am Dr. Mason Williams and this is Doctor Lauren Sullivan.”

  In surprisingly unaccented English, the woman said, “I am Maria. I, too, am a doctor . . .” she smiled slightly and continued, “at least, I am the closest thing to a doctor that this poor village has.”

  Mason grinned. “You speak beautiful English, Maria.”

  She smiled again, and it was as if a light shined from within as she said, “I was birthed by missionaries many years ago and they gave me the name of the Blessed Virgin and then they schooled me in English for several years as they ministered to the natives in this region.”

  Not wanting to waste a minute, Lauren stepped forward, “We have come seeking your help, Maria.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Oh? And how can a poor woman deep in the jungles of Mexico help highly trained physicians such as yourselves?”

  Lauren shook her head. “I am not a physician, Maria. I am a doctor of archaeology.”

  Maria nodded and glanced at Mason.

  “I am a physician, Maria,” he said. “And right now there is a terrible sickness spreading across the entire world killing millions and millions of people.” He hesitated for a moment. “Guatemotzi tells us you know of this illness and you call it the ‘bleeding sickness.’”

  She shook her head. “That is a very bad illness. Over the years it has taken very many of my people.”

  “But Guatemotzi tells us you know of a cure for the bleeding sickness,” Lauren said.

  “It is true that I know of some herbs and plants that can help if given soon enough, before the illness has progressed too far.”

  “Maria,” Mason said earnestly, “There is a great need for you to show
us what you know. It could mean saving millions of lives.”

  She nodded. “I will gather some of the boys who help me find the herbs and plants and we will go into the forest and begin to get as many of them for you as we can.”

  She hesitated and looked back and forth at them, grinning. “Meanwhile, there is a stream running behind the village that has clear, clean water in it and if you wish you may wash up while I see if Fernando can provide you with nourishment while you wait.”

  Lauren laughed, running her hands through her hair. “Do we look that bad?” she asked.

  Maria blushed. “No, not at all. But you have come a long way and the journey must have been hard on you. A nice, refreshing swim will make you feel much better.”

  “Come on, Lauren,” Mason said, wrinkling his nose. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I can’t wait to get out of these clothes and into some freshwater. I feel like I’m gonna have to scrape the grime off with a knife.”

  Maria pointed to a small trail into the jungle that ran behind her shack. “At this time of day you will have complete privacy if you follow that trail to the river. There is a small sandy area where you can enter the water and several boulders where you can place your clothes in the sun to dry after washing them.”

  “Uh, what about critters?” Lauren asked. “Are there any snakes or alligators or such in the river?”

  Maria smiled. “No. This stream runs too fast for snakes or other animals to be a danger to you. You might feel a fish against your legs but they are of no consequence.”

  Lauren grabbed her backpack and headed up the trail without a backward glance.

  Mason hesitated, not knowing whether to follow her or to give her some privacy for her bath.

  After about ten yards, Lauren stopped and looked back over her shoulder, a wide grin on her face. “You’d better come on, Mason, unless you’re planning on staying downwind of our hosts for the rest of the visit.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “That bad, huh?”

  “No worse than a wet goat, I suppose,” Lauren answered as she turned and began to jog up the trail.

  “Well you’re not exactly roses, Missy,” he called back as he trotted after her.

  Maria gave Motzi a puzzled glance and he shrugged, spreading his hands and grinning said, “Amor.”

  “Ah,” Maria said, smiling as she watched the couple disappear into the jungle.

  Then she clapped her hands and told Motzi to get his friends together and to begin to gather the herbs and plants she would need.

  * * *

  Mason slowed to a walk, letting Lauren get ahead of him as she disappeared into the jungle. “Slow down, Mason,” he said to himself. “No need to run after her like a horny schoolboy.”

  When he finally sauntered into the sandy beach area of the river, he saw all of Lauren’s clothes washed and spread out on several large boulders baking in the tropical sun. He could almost see the steam rising from the clothes in the humid heat of late afternoon.

  He peered around the edges of the river, but overhanging tree limbs caused much of the river to be in deep shade and he did not see Lauren anywhere.

  Oh well, he thought, she probably swam around a nearby bend in the river so she could bathe without me staring at her.

  With a sigh of relief, he slipped out of his clothes, taking off his underwear, shirt, and pants and scrubbing them in the rapidly moving water and then placing them on boulders next to Lauren’s clothes to dry.

  He eased into the water up to his neck, surprised at how cool the temperature was. He shivered a little as he scrubbed his hands up and down his grimy skin, trying as best he could without soap or a washcloth to get himself clean.

  “Jesus!” he screamed as a pair of hands slid around his stomach and up to his chest from behind him.

  “Holy smoke, boss man. I thought you were going to jump right out of your skin,” she gasped around peals of laughter.

  He finally had to smile back at her, though his heart was still pounding like a jackhammer.

  “What did you expect, silly woman? I’m out here in a jungle river in the middle of southern Mexico, surrounded by who knows what manner of beasts, when something grabs me from the depths.”

  She continued to smile as she arched an eyebrow. “What did you think it was . . . a river nymph?”

  He noticed for the first time that she still had her arms around him and that there were two warm, soft breasts pressed against his chest, while her legs slowly hooked around his thighs.

  He blushed at this realization, and at the inevitable biological response this was causing in his nether regions.

  “Ummm . . .” he mumbled, feeling like his face was on fire.

  “What’s the matter, Doc?” she asked coyly, staring deep into his eyes. “Cat got your tongue?”

  As he felt her pelvis push against his beneath the water, he slipped his arms around her and did what he’d wanted to do ever since he first laid eyes on her. He pulled her tight against him and kissed her as hard and as deeply as he had ever kissed anyone in his life.

  As they kissed, standing chest deep in water, he felt her hand reach down between them and adjust their bodies so that his erection was between her thighs.

  His hand went to her breast as she slowly undulated her hips, rubbing her inner thighs against him in a most provocative way.

  “Jesus,” he whispered against her lips as her nipple hardened and rose to meet his caress.

  “Ummm,” she whispered back, “Was this worth waiting for or not?”

  He leaned his head back so that he could look into her green eyes. He put his other hand on her hips and pulled her pelvis tight against his straining penis. “What do you think?”

  She laughed again, shaking water out of her hair and planting her full, throbbing lips against his and spreading her thighs, allowing him to enter her as she arched against him, shuddering.

  Then he shuddered too, exploding inside her as he climaxed, throbbing again and again in wondrous release.

  She quickly followed, gasping and jerking as she came with him, her fingers digging into his back and her thighs squeezing him as if she would never let go.

  Breathing heavily, he inched his way toward the bank and into shallower water and sat back down, with her still on his thighs and their bodies still locked together.

  He laid his head back onto the sandy shore and took deep breaths, waiting for his heart to slow.

  After a moment, she eased off him and lay on her back beside him in the shallow water, her breasts heaving up and down as her breathing slowed.

  He turned on his side and leaned over to capture a nipple between his lips, gently nipping it with his teeth. Again it hardened and rose into his mouth as she gasped in delight at the feeling.

  She looked down and put her hands on his cheeks and slowly raised his head so she could kiss him again, her tongue darting between his lips.

  After a moment, her hand drifted down under the water and between his legs to discover that he was hard again. She groaned happily and leaned back to look at him, smiling. “Wow, that was a quick recovery.”

  He grinned proudly. “I’m not as old as I look.”

  “It’s either that or you’ve been out in the field and away from female company for much too long,” she said, caressing him for a moment before finally letting him go.

  “Oh, don’t stop,” he begged, reaching for her as she moved out of his reach and toward their clothes on the rocks nearby.

  She glanced back at him, shaking her head. “As much as I’d like to lay here making love to you all day,” she said, “we’ve got important work to do. Millions of people are counting on us, Mason.”

  “Just my luck,” he groused as he rose from the beach and waded toward the boulders. “Falling for a woman with a sense of moral responsibility.”

  “Oh,” she said mischievously, “and have you ‘fallen’ for me?”

  He grinned, spreading his arms. “What? You think I let just any old
girl have her way with me on our first date?”

  She laughed again and shook her head. “Mason, men are notoriously easy to bed, and you are most definitely a man.”

  He took her by the shoulders and turned her so that she was facing him, standing waist deep in the water, her breasts pressing against his chest. “Lauren, I know you’re teasing, but don’t make light of this. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you.”

  She reached up to caress his cheek. “I know, Mason. I’ve felt the same way, but I need to take it a little bit slower. It’s been a long time for me since . . . since I’ve felt like this about anyone and I want to make sure of my feelings before going off the deep end.”

  He nodded. “All right, we’ll take it slow. But don’t expect my feelings to change. I know the real thing when I feel it.”

  “That’s a deal.”

  * * *

  When they got back at the village, they entered Maria’s shack and found six handwoven baskets full of herbs and flowering plants. Each basket had only one kind of plant in it and they were arranged along a shelf against a back wall of the one large room in the house.

  On the floor, six boys were squatting in front of stone mortar and pestles, busily grinding the various plants and flowers into green paste.

  Maria moved back and forth between them, supervising the boys and offering suggestions and advice here and there.

  She looked up when they entered the room. “I am having the boys prepare the herbs for you to carry with you back to your camp. Guatemotzi told me that is where you have your laboratory and where you will use these plants to make medicine to cure the bleeding sickness.”

  While Mason began to take pictures of the various plants with his sat-phone, Lauren moved closer to Maria. “Maria, this is wonderful, and it will go a long way toward curing the bleeding sickness, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to impose on you and the villagers even more.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. Motzi told us that many in your village have a natural resistance to the bleeding sickness and do not get ill even when outsiders come into the village carrying the illness.”

  Maria nodded. “Yes, that is true. The missionaries told me that is because we carry the blood of our Aztec ancestors and that protects us from the illness.”