Cindy Gerard - [Bodyguards 05]

by Under the Wire

  What mattered was that this time the four of them were together.

  Adam thought about the video. “Will your government meet the rebel terms?” he asked Amithnal, who sat, exhausted, on the damp stone floor beside him.

  Amithnal’s hushed voice confirmed what Adam had already decided. “No. They will never give in to such outrageous demands.”

  Another silence stretched out as the implications of their fate dug deep.

  “The rebels know that,” Amithnal said. “They know it is an impossible request.”

  “Then why did they even ask?” Adam’s voice barely carried in the dark.

  “This I do not know, Adam. It makes no sense to me. Unless…”

  “Unless?” Adam prompted.

  “Unless,” Amithnal continued with reluctance, “killing us has been their intent all along.”

  Sathi’s quiet weeping prompted soothing sounds from Amithnal.

  “Then why haven’t they done it?” Adam mused aloud. “Why didn’t they kill us right away? Why make the video? What was the point?”

  “That, my young friend, is a question I have been asking myself from the beginning.”

  “There’s something else going on here,” Adam finally whispered.

  “Yes. I have thought that as well. Today…I heard the guards talking in Hindi.”

  “Hindi?”

  “The language of India. I am no longer sure they are Tamils.”

  “They’re Indian?”

  “I am thinking so, yes.”

  “What would Indian soldiers want with us? And why would they pass themselves off as Tamil rebels?”

  Amithnal was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his words were flat with defeat. “This we may never know. There can’t be much time left.”

  Amithnal had given up, Adam realized. He’d resigned himself to dying here.

  “We have to fight them,” Adam whispered vehemently.

  Amithnal’s breath was heavy with resignation. “They are twenty. We are only two.”

  “Three,” Minrada’s whisper came out of the dark. A renewed resolve filled her voice and made Adam’s heart swell.

  Adam reached for her hand, squeezed.

  “Four.”

  Sathi. She had gained strength from her daughter. “There are four,” she said, determination making her voice stronger.

  “Yes, we are four,” Adam agreed, and as he sat there, head pounding, body and pride battered and bruised, a seed of a plan took root.

  Kandy

  “Ethan, please. Quit pacing. We’re stuck here.” Darcy sat at a computer in the mayor’s office where they were being detained as “guests” of the city. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Griff had managed to move heaven—the joint operation was a go—but not earth. They’d begged, threatened, and cajoled, but Ethan and Darcy hadn’t been granted clearance to accompany the military to the Wahala-purha temple ruin site where a staging area was being assembled. As they spoke, the Sinhalese military supported by the Tiger rebels would soon confront the company of foreign insurgents.

  Ethan was using their “forced” stay to bring his blood to a slow rolling boil. Darcy had decided to make better use of her time. She’d been searching the Web for militant Indian groups. She was desperate to come up with something to tie the Hindi-speaking fighters Manny had told them about and the suspected insurgency to what was happening with Adam.

  “This is bullshit,” Ethan sputtered for the tenth time in as many minutes. “We need to be there when the dust settles. Something tells me the bad guys will give up the goods on where they’re holding Adam and the Muhandiramalas.” He glanced at his watch. “Fuck. Less than six hours.”

  “Oh my God.” Oblivious to his ranting, Darcy felt shock stiffen her spine ramrod straight. “Ethan. Come look at this.”

  Ethan walked up behind her, read the computer screen over her shoulder. “Holy shit.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  The information she’d just uncovered on a militant blog site might be the key to this entire ugly business.

  “Ethan…we’ve got to get out of here. If what’s happening is what I think is happening, somehow we have to convince the powers that be to hold off on the assault. If they engage the insurgents before Manny and Lily find Adam, we can kiss the midnight deadline good-bye.”

  Ethan snapped up his SAT phone and dialed. She knew he was trying to reach Manny.

  “Still no signal,” Ethan said grimly, and Darcy could see he had to physically resist the urge to throw the phone across the room.

  “Okay, babe. It’s now or never,” he said with a dark look. “We’re getting out of here.” He walked over to the door and stood behind it. “Use your best decoy ploy.”

  “My best?” She gave him a sharp look.

  “Okay. Not your best. Save that one for me. Just get the guard in here. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “He’s not dead, is he?” Darcy asked a few minutes after the hapless guard came running at her hysterical scream for help.

  “No, but he’s going to wish he was when he wakes up and finds himself tied to that chair. Help me.” Ethan handed her a piece of the man’s shirt that he’d ripped into lengths to make bindings and a gag. Together he and Darcy tied up the guard.

  “Let’s go.” Taking her hand, Ethan headed toward the door at a run. “Adam and the Muhandiramalas are running out of time. And we’re late for a war.”

  Within two hours of Elkaduwa

  “I can’t fricking believe this.” Manny stood by the water’s edge. Hands on his hips, he glared at Rajah. The elephant wallowed in the shallows of a backwater tributary, trumpeting in ecstasy and spraying water from his trunk in a cascading shower over his head.

  Kavith, his Air Jordans high and dry on the bank, stood knee-deep in water, scrubbing the elephant. He smiled his usual smile. It was getting goddamn grating.

  “Many, many sorrys,” Kavith apologized for the hundredth time. “But is necessary. Rajah is a working elephant. He wait for—thinks he is entitled to—bath. Top to toe. Every day. Must do. Critical—one elephant my grandfather own try one day to kill him when dirty. Not so upset when clean. Elephant very clean animal. Rajah go faster when done.”

  Beside them on the bank, the monkey—Tito, they had learned—sat like an old man leaning against Manny’s leg, plucking at his pants and inspecting the hem.

  Manny glared from the elephant to the monkey and back to Kavith.

  God save me.

  “How much longer?”

  Kavith grinned. Shrugged. “When Rajah is ready.”

  “Kavith.”

  Manny turned when Lily spoke.

  “Please. We must hurry.”

  For the first time since they’d met him, the boy’s smile unfolded. He stared at Lily. Concern furrowed his brow as he waded from the water and stood in front of her.

  Kavith had a serious case on her. Manny understood. In spades.

  “New friend, Lily.” Kavith patted her shoulder. “Not to cry. We will find your Adam.”

  A single tear leaked down Lily’s cheek. She was banged up, scratched up, sunburned, and sweaty. Not once had she complained. Manny felt his gut clench for her. For the tear she would shed for her son but not for herself.

  “We’re running out of time.” She hugged her arms around herself and turned away.

  “What can we do?” Kavith looked miserable.

  “You could convince that elephant he’s squeaky clean,” Manny grumbled. “And as long as you’re at it, you could conjure up a cell phone. That’d be a helluva start.”

  A grin so huge it closed his eyes broke out over Kavith’s face. He dug into his baggy pants pocket, fished around forever, and finally pulled out a phone.

  A SAT phone.

  “That’s my fucking phone!” Manny roared.

  Tito screeched and jumped up and down.

  “Tito has been a bad thief.” Kavith made tsking sounds at the monke
y. “My apology. Kavith did not know it belonged to you.”

  Swearing under his breath, Manny snatched the phone, turned it on, and dialed, hoping it had dried out enough to make a connection.

  He heaved a breath of relief when he heard a ring tone followed by Ethan’s clipped hello. Lily rushed to his side, her face animated with the first ray of hope they’d had in a very long while.

  “It’s me,” Manny said. “I’ve got a location on Adam.”

  “Jesus. Where in the hell have you been? Never mind. Just listen. We may be fighting a new deadline.”

  Manny stiffened, reacting to the urgency in Ethan’s voice. “What’s happening?”

  “We’re pretty certain that Darcy discovered a link between Adam’s abduction and the group that captured Ramanathan’s big gun.”

  A lump lodged in Manny’s throat as he listened. Ethan quickly filled him in on the soon-to-be-launched joint Sri Lankan–Tamil assault on the camp at the Wahala-purha temple ruins.

  Manny pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuck. This was all they needed. If Darcy’s speculation was accurate, Manny had to reach Adam and the Muhandiramalas before the group of radicals who held them got wind of the joint attack staged for Wahala-purha. If the attack was launched first, someone in the insurgent camp was certain to contact the abductors holding Adam. If that happened, Manny had no doubt that the midnight deadline would go out the window. They’d kill Adam on the spot—if they hadn’t killed him already.

  Manny checked his watch. Four hours to the deadline. “Okay, look. We’re less than two hours from Adam.” He gave Ethan the coordinates. “What are the chances you can stall the assault and meet us there?”

  Slim and none, Manny figured, those were the chances.

  But this was Ethan Garrett he was dealing with. A man who’d had Manny’s back in more dicey situations than he could count—and vice versa.

  “I’ll be back in touch,” Ethan said. “I’ve got to reach Dallas. We’ll figure something out. And we’ll get there. Count on it.”

  Wahala-purha temple ruins

  Dallas hung up the phone, swore roundly, then headed across the staging area where Ramanathan and the Sinhalese field general, Kalukapuge, had their heads together over strategy.

  Dallas was one man. And Ethan had just charged him with stalling an army.

  Make that two armies.

  Piece of fucking cake.

  Low-level floodlights illuminated the makeshift encampment that had been set up out of sight and sound range, a quarter of a mile from the insurgent campsite. Jeeps, trucks, armored vehicles, and even a few bicycles—it was, after all, Sri Lanka—littered the nightscape where the Sinhalese elite Special Forces and Tamil rebels readied for battle. Fifty men, prepared to take on twice that many. Fifty well-trained, seasoned warriors who they were betting were better equipped and more experienced than the company of insurgents who were blissfully bedded down for the night.

  The soldiers were chomping at the bit. Testosterone and the promise of glory elevated heart rates and made even these hardened and tested soldiers restless.

  The Sri Lanka Special Forces—rapid mobilization units—had arrived ahead of Ramanathan’s teams and were prepared to flank the insurgent camp to both the north and the south. Under cover of darkness and the jungle, Ramanathan’s equivalent specialized teams were in place to move in from the west and east.

  It had been an hour since Ramanathan’s Cobra had sat down. It had been flying under a full moon and blackout conditions and trusting the prevailing winds to carry away the chopper noise. The Sinhalese spotters on the ground had waved them in with more low-wattage portable lights set up well out of sight range of the insurgent camp.

  With Sri Lankan field general Kalukapuge calling the shots, the two military leaders and their joint task force were about to make history. With a little luck, Dallas was about to stop it—or at least slow it down a bit.

  Both Ramanathan and Kalukapuge glared at him when he approached. “There’s another bird coming in,” he said, and two pairs of eyes looked skyward.

  “He’s flying blackout. I need permission to talk him in.”

  “A friend of yours?” Ramanathan asked sourly.

  “My brother. And he has information that could affect the outcome of the confrontation.”

  “You press your luck, Garrett.” Ramanathan held Dallas’s gaze for several long moments before turning to Kalukapuge. The field general shrugged.

  With a reluctant nod, Ramanathan relented.

  “Bro,” Dallas said when he reached Ethan on the radio. “What’s your ETA?”

  “You should be able to spot me.”

  Just then a dim beam from the tail section of a low-flying chopper came into view. Shortly after, Dallas heard the muffled whoop, whoop, whoop of rotor blades; then the shadowy hulk of a bird popped up over a rise and made a beeline for the center of the staging area.

  “Got a visual,” Dallas said, and proceeded to talk Ethan toward the LZ.

  It was a civilian chopper, Dallas realized when the bird fell into the arc of the spotlights. One he remembered seeing at the Kandy airport and had passed on when he’d gotten a look at the motor. The sucker had to have three thousand hours of airtime since its last overhaul, and he didn’t fly in birds in need of maintenance.

  Dallas held his breath as the chopper sputtered, spat, stalled, then finally caught. Ethan set her down with a none-too-gentle bounce.

  Wasting no time, Ethan jumped out of the cockpit, ducked under the rotor blades, and ran toward Dallas.

  “Jesus,” Dallas sputtered with a nod toward the bird. “Did you get stupid or decide it was time to fulfill a death wish?”

  “Missed you, too,” Ethan said.

  “Where’s Darcy?”

  “Guess you could say she’s a little…tied up back in Kandy and most likely working on ripping me a new ass.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did. Sent her for water while I revved up the bird, then took off without her.”

  “Extreme, bro. Even for you.”

  “I lost her once. No way was I going to take a chance on losing her again. I don’t want her anywhere near us when the fat hits the fire. She can get over pissed. She can’t get over dead. Now what’s happening?”

  “They agreed to wait for you—because you have information that could affect the outcome of the battle.”

  They jogged toward the waiting generals. “Why did I know you were going to pass the buck to me?”

  “That’s what big brothers are for. Make it good. These guys are locked and loaded.”

  Ethan put on his politician’s hat and geared up to negotiate.

  Five minutes later, they’d bought an hour. It wasn’t much, but it was better than a kick in the ass. When the insurgent leader found his balls against the wall, there wasn’t any question that he’d put in a call to the abduction team. And midnight deadline or not, it would be over for Adam and the Muhandiramalas.

  Dallas grabbed Ethan’s arm and stopped him when he ran toward the civilian chopper. “Fuck that. I’m not going up in that piece of shit.”

  “Like we have a choice?” Ethan barked back.

  “Yeah—like we do.” He hitched his chin in the direction of Ramanathan’s Cobra.

  Ethan did a double take when he saw the snake. “Ramanathan will kill you—”

  “He’s gotta catch me first. Get in the snake. I’ve got to grab something and I’ll be right with you.”

  Thirty seconds later, Dallas jumped up into the Cobra. “Let’s move. Time’s wastin’.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Bulutota Rakwana, 10:45 P.M.

  Bellied down on a ridge with his NVGs, Manny strained to get the lay of the land in the dark. The sun set late this time of year in Sri Lanka, but darkness had descended about an hour ago. The moon hung like a great white lightbulb, bathing the area like a strobe. Still, except for some chatter around a campfire and the occasional movement of a torch, he couldn’t see much activity.
Not without getting closer. And he would. Just as soon as the cavalry arrived.

  It better, by God, be soon. He’d counted twenty soldiers just as the sun had pulled a disappearing act. And he’d gotten a good glimpse of the cliff wall that housed the cave. Things didn’t look good for the good guys. The camp was a fucking fortress.

  “Where are they?” Lily whispered, her voice sounding strained.

  She could have been asking about Adam and the Muhandiramalas. Could have been asking about Ethan and Dallas. Either way, Manny shared her anxiety. They were down to a little more than an hour before the insurgent deadline, a half hour before the joint military assault back at Wahala-purha. If they pulled this off under the wire it would be a miracle.

  He’d counted on miracles more than once. Prayed he hadn’t used up his quota, because one way or another they had to get Adam and the Muhandiramalas out of this mess.

  Failing wasn’t an option.

  “Tell me more about the cave,” Manny prompted Kavith, who lay on his belly beside him, thoroughly enjoying playing soldier, even though Manny had strongly suggested he take Rajah and head for the hills.

  The elephant was happily grazing in a field of grass behind them. About the fifth time Manny had caught Tito trying to filch the phone again, he’d threatened to cut his tail off. Tito had screeched and scooted off into the trees.

  “The cave of Rakwana,” Kavith said quietly, “is cut into a rock wall that runs one hundred yards high and fifty wide. See how it rises? Like a giant out of the jungle floor, yes?”

  Yeah. That pretty much summed it up.

  “You’ve been inside?”

  “Oh yes. As a boy. I explored here often.”

  “How many caves are there?”

  “Only one—but many fingers spread out from the hand.”

  Manny exhaled a heavy breath. Adam could be held in any one of those fingers.

  “‘Now remember, when things look bad and it looks like you’re not gonna make it, then you gotta get mean. I mean plumb, mad-dog mean. ’Cause if you lose your head and you give up, then you neither live nor win. That’s just the way it is.’”