“SHUT UP!” Qin yelled. He turned his gun on Clay, extending it over the girl’s shoulder. “Tell me who you are or I will kill you right now.”
Clay studied the gun. “You have a Norinco nine millimeter. Even at this range you have very little chance of preventing me from shooting you. Your bullet travels at thirteen-hundred-feet per second. Mine travels twice as fast. Which means a clean shot will pass straight through her and tear a giant hole through you. And guess which one of you I’m going to try to save first?”
“Your name!” Qin seethed.
Clay’s grin was slight, and not at all visible from behind the rifle. “Call me…Ishmael.”
Qin stared at him with grim satisfaction. “You’re surrounded, Ishmael.” He pressed harder against Li Na. “And out of time. You and the U.S. Navy are too late.”
Clay was still counting in his head. Qin’s mention of the Navy told him exactly what he was afraid of. Qin knew everything. But the man was right, he was out of time.
Clay returned his gaze to Li Na. “Thirty seconds.”
She began shaking. Scared to death, she looked helplessly at Clay before allowing her eyes to drop to the doctor’s lifeless body at their feet. She closed her eyes momentarily before opening them and giving Clay the briefest of nods.
His reaction was nearly instantaneous. Pressing his index finger against the trigger and sending a single, explosive shot from his rifle.
The bullet hit the outside of Qin’s outstretched hand, ripping through the top of his knuckles and tearing it away from Li Na, who covered her face and dropped to the floor.
Qin screamed and lost his grip on the girl, stumbling back to grab his bloody hand which was now missing an index finger. Clay’s second shot tore into his left thigh, throwing him violently to the floor.
Li Na fell to her knees and Clay rushed forward to pick her up.
“We have to go. Now!” He helped her to the door, but stopped as Li Na suddenly pulled away. Without a word, she ran back to the closet and retrieved the metal case from inside. She then jumped past a struggling Qin and followed Clay out.
54
DeeAnn hit the moist ground with a thump. She and Anderson landed faster than expected, sliding several feet and onto their butts. Behind them, Juan and Tiewater stumbled but managed to land on their feet. Corso followed, whose boots hit the ground with a heavy thud.
Caesare arrived last, landing effortlessly with several strides and Dulce wrapped tightly in one arm. Once stopped, he disconnected the chute behind them before unbuckling her smaller harness. He lowered her to the ground only to find she was still clinging to him.
We fly! She said excitedly through DeeAnn’s vest.
“Yes, we fly,” he agreed laughingly and looked at DeeAnn as she approached, glaring at him. “You okay?”
“That’s debatable.”
He looked past her. “Juan?”
“I’m okay,” the engineer nodded. “But if you all don’t mind, I think I’ll stay here and kiss the ground for a while.”
Tiewater laughed and slapped him on the back. “Ah, that was an easy one. Try doing it at night.”
“While being shot at,” added Anderson.
“Uh, no thanks.”
Caesare turned back to Dulce and pulled her helmet off. “How are you, Dulce?”
Me happy. Fly fun.
He wasn’t the only one surprised that Dulce remained closely at his side. Both puzzled and still upset, DeeAnn stepped in and caressed her dark brown back. “Are you hurt?”
No hurt. Dulce was excited. She studied the trees and ground, sniffing the air. She was eager to find her friend. The first primate she had communicated with. Or at least the first one she remembered.
Contrary to what some pet owners might claim, Dulce knew she wasn’t a human. She knew she was different and craved contact with others like her. And while many humans might assume their pets were content in a human world, Dulce had explained just how wrong that assumption was.
Dulce wanted to be with her own kind. She needed to be with them. And Dexter was one of them.
Standing over her, DeeAnn could see the excitement in her eyes. There was no doubt how much Dulce loved being back in the wild. Safely this time. Safely, DeeAnn observed, with Caesare.
Like the other men, Caesare stood and rolled his parachute into a compact bundle. He then stashed it inside a group of fern bushes and tossed his nylon harnesses in after it.
“Now what?” DeeAnn asked, when he turned around.
“Now we find our drops. Anderson, find us a place to settle in and establish a perimeter.”
“Yes, sir.” The young SEAL scanned their small landing site intently before trotting uphill and disappearing through an opening in the trees.
Caesare looked to Tiewater. “How close are we?”
“Pretty close,” he replied, staring at a small GPS screen. “Maybe two miles.”
It took an hour to retrieve their crates and haul them uphill to the best location they could find. Concealment and cover were their top priority. They needed a base that was well concealed and ensured that nothing could be seen from the road, which rounded the top of the mountain a half mile away. It also needed enough natural backing to avoid being mistakenly silhouetted against the horizon.
An expanse of palm trees provided a thick wall of concealment but not as much cover as they’d hoped for. However, it provided a wide view of the area below and the best field of fire they were going to find. Caesare hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Finally, they needed an escape route. In a fight, things rarely went according to plan, which could leave a fast retreat as their last viable option.
It didn’t take Anderson long to find a way out through the trees and down the other side of the hill. Together, he and Tiewater relocated a small portion of their ammo and food supplies to a backup location and covered it under a pile of brush.
Coming in light meant they had enough food to keep six adults supplied for five days, but not much more. A growing gorilla ate more, requiring her own crate of vegetables. But even those wouldn’t last long.
Anderson returned to camp and quietly checked their visibility from all four directions while Tiewater approached with Juan’s bag over his shoulder.
“Where do you want your gear?”
Juan looked up from his work, making adjustments to DeeAnn’s vest. “Um, over here, please.” Tiewater nodded and dropped it with a thud next to the rock Juan was sitting on.
Juan returned his attention to DeeAnn’s vest as it lay sprawled across his lap. The belt had been damaged during the jump from the airplane. The wide band was made from neoprene for comfort as well as protection of the thin batteries and circuitry inside. The damage caused one of the connections to break, leaving the unit without one of the six batteries.
Once Juan located the broken wire, he retrieved a butane-fueled soldering iron and began repairing it.
DeeAnn watched curiously, while also keeping an eye on Dulce, who was sitting nearby munching on a head of kale.
Further below, Corso emerged from the trees and climbed uphill with heavy steps. When he reached Caesare, he turned around and pointed. “There’s another ascent a few hundred yards straight out. Less cover but enough for a crossfire. The road passes closer to that side then heads north, toward what looks to be an open patch. But not big enough for more than one or two choppers. I can see why they didn’t airlift in. Nowhere else to land.”
Caesare nodded. “That and they don’t want to be noticed any more than we do.” He pulled his phone out from his pant leg pocket and turned it on. After dialing Borger’s number, he waited, listening. Instead of an answer, he got a busy signal. He tried again. Still busy. Caesare said nothing and dropped it back into his pocket.
Caesare watched as Tiewater retrieved four HK416 assault rifles and handed one to him. He took it, appreciating the familiar feel of hard, cool metal in his hands.
He turned to Juan. “How much longer?”
>
“Should be just a few minutes. It’s pretty minor.” Juan kept his eyes on the tip of the iron as wisps of smoke rose from inside the belt. “I do have more batteries in my bag that need to be charged.”
Caesare nodded and smoothly slung the 416 over his shoulder. He unzipped the padded canvas where he found the batteries and pulled them out, along with a large solar panel. After placing the batteries on a nearby rock, he unfolded the panel into thirds and positioned them toward the sun. Finally, he attached each piece of hardware to a small charge controller and turned it on.
“That should hold it.” Juan glanced at DeeAnn and stood up, resecuring the neoprene belt. “But it’s not as strong as the original so we need to be careful.”
“Okay.” She took the vest from Juan and slipped it back over her white T-shirt, settling the belt over the top of her hips. She flipped it on and waited for it to initialize.
“Can you hear me, Dulce?”
Yes, me hear.
DeeAnn turned to Caesare. “Are we ready?”
“Yep.” Caesare slid a backpack over his wide shoulders. On his hip was a holstered camouflage-colored Sig Sauer 9mm. The extra weight of another gun and its ammo was less than ideal, but carrying a second weapon had saved his life more than once. “We’re about a quarter mile now from where we last saw Dexter. Once there, it’s all up to you, Dee.”
Anderson stepped forward, handing both DeeAnn and Juan a padded Camelbak with straps, and a long clear hose fastened to the front.
“What’s this?” Juan asked.
“Water.”
DeeAnn took one and slid it on her back, amused. “Juan, you and Lee really need to get out more.”
His reply was sarcastic. “We’re on top of a mountain, Dee. I’m pretty sure this counts.”
She laughed and turned back to Caesare.
“We need to hightail it. We don’t have much time before Otero and his men arrive. Stay behind Anderson and me. Tiewater and Corso will bring up the rear. Stay on our heels and do not step anywhere outside of our footsteps. We don’t have time for any injuries or surprises. If you need us to slow down for any reason, tell us but keep your voice down. We don’t know who else is up here. Questions?”
Both shook their heads. Dulce merely grinned at him from the ground with a hand inside DeeAnn’s.
DeeAnn jumped suddenly at the sound of Corso slapping a magazine into his rifle. When she turned around, he peered at her with his usual stone face.
They reached their location within twenty minutes, where the smell of smoke was thick in the air, reminding both DeeAnn and Caesare of the grim circumstances of their last visit. When they reached an opening in the brush, they could see the devastation still spread out before them.
A huge swath of the forest had been wiped clean. Destroyed. With the only remnants of vegetation burnt beyond recognition. Farther away and uphill, a sheer cliff wall, hundreds of feet high, towered above them and the blackened earth.
“Jesus Christ,” whistled Tiewater. “What the hell happened here?”
“Destroyed,” Caesare answered.
“Why?”
“To keep something quiet.”
Tiewater stepped onto the burnt field and scuffed at it with his boot. “Like what?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Behind him, DeeAnn held up an arm, covering her mouth and coughing into her sleeve.
“I’m guessing this has to do with the monkey we’re looking for.”
“That’s right.” Caesare surveyed the area then spoke in a low voice, “The bodies are gone.”
“What bodies?” Juan asked.
“Those belonging to the men who did this. Chinese soldiers. They were murdered before they finished the job.”
DeeAnn peered down at Dulce, who was also staring out over the dead terrain. She wore a puzzled expression, as if not entirely understanding what she was seeing.
Smell bad.
“Yes,” DeeAnn nodded, solemnly. “The smoke smells very bad.”
Caesare and Tiewater stepped further out, scanning the area before motioning to the others to follow.
Once in the open, DeeAnn bent down and looked at the gorilla. “Dulce, it’s time to find our friend.”
She grinned excitedly. Yes. Dulce find friend.
Her large hazel eyes panned the hillside past the large cliff face and settled on the ground at her feet. A moment later, and to everyone’s surprise, she sat down in a patch of tall grass, spared from the destruction by only a few yards. She picked a wildflower and sniffed at its tiny purple petals. She picked another and another, smelling each one.
Smell. Dulce held a flower out for DeeAnn, who looked puzzled but accepted it. She sniffed and raised an eyebrow.
“What do you smell?”
Dulce grunted and shook her head. Flower smell pretty.
DeeAnn frowned and looked around at the others. She stopped on Corso, who was clearly not amused.
“I guess her sense of urgency isn’t quite the same as ours,” DeeAnn reflected out loud.
Corso didn’t reply. He simply stared at her and slowly shook his head.
She was about to apologize when Dulce abruptly stood up. Her large nostrils wiggled and she turned her head, as though listening. She then walked for several yards and sat back down in the grass.
Caesare lowered his rifle and pulled the satellite phone back out of his pocket. He dialed the number again and waited. Still busy.
It was too early to be concerned, but he needed to talk to Borger, and soon. He needed to know how much time they had before Otero and his goons arrived. Watching Dulce told him their chances of finding the capuchin first were dropping dramatically.
But there was something else. He looked solemnly past the others to the cliff face in the distance and followed it down to its base.
Finding the monkey was one thing, but Caesare and Borger both knew he was also there for another reason. Something even more important. There was something inside the base of that cliff that needed to be protected at all costs. Because if it was found, especially by someone like Otero, the world was not ready for what would come next.
Caesare was there to make sure that didn’t happen. Only five people knew what was hidden there. And if he had to, he would tell his men. Because if it came down to it, they needed to understand that no one could be allowed to find it.
No matter what.
55
The distant peak was in sight now and a frustrated Otero watched from the back of his Range Rover as their convoy made its way slowly and painfully up the narrow winding road.
His frustration was reaching new heights after multiple stops to repair the failing road. Wind and rain had eroded large sections, making it impossible for the larger trucks to pass without substantial reinforcements.
The third repair had unexpectedly given way when their trucks tried to pass, resulting in a near loss of the entire vehicle and its supplies. A loss that big would have been significant. He could live with the loss of some of his men, but fewer supplies meant less time to find the creature for which they had come.
It was becoming increasingly evident to Otero that the success of this mission was going to rely on a single person. And she was sitting in the vehicle just ahead of them, behind Captain Salazar.
Dr. Becca sat rocking back and forth with the sideways motion of the Humvee as it climbed, bouncing over what was left of the old road. Hours of driving –– coupled with having to listen to Salazar spout his fascist political views –– was making the trip truly deplorable. Instead, she tried to focus on the few positive aspects she could find. Like the vehicle’s air conditioning.
She’d met men like Salazar before. And just like them, he was an ass, plain and simple. A bureaucrat dressed in a military uniform and nothing more. Hiding within just another large government organization that was once again buckling under its own self-serving weight.
Brazil’s economy and its government were now completely imploding
. Like many countries, Brazil was now in the last desperate throes of its collapse and was printing money like mad to stave off the inevitable: the long overdue cleansing of the country’s elite and political class.
To Becca, Salazar was part of the problem. Unfortunately, those in power never relinquished it without a fight. But this wasn’t her fight. She simply wanted to get back and save whatever career she might have left.
A career that, after reading all of the information she’d been given, just might include the zoological breakthrough of the century. She was now convinced that at least part of what Salazar and Otero were after…was real. A capuchin demonstrating a significantly higher level of cognition.
If it was true, it was the kind of discovery for the record books and one from which world renowned careers were launched.
In front of Becca, Salazar leaned forward, attempting to reach the dashboard in spite of the vehicle’s bouncing. His fingers found the small vent and adjusted the angle higher, trying to cool his beading forehead. The air was gradually growing cooler the higher they climbed, but it still wasn’t enough yet.
He returned his hand to the grab handle overhead, trying to steady himself after one bounce from a particularly large hole. Salazar’s own satellite phone rang loudly just as it fell from its tucked position against his leg. He fumbled for it but managed to get the phone to his ear by the third ring.
“Yes,” he answered, over the vehicle’s revving engine.
The voice on the other end was deep. “How close are you?”
“About five or six hours.”
“It’s about time.”
Salazar opened his mouth to explain but was cut off.
“Does anyone suspect anything?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Good. Surprise will be key. You cannot risk anyone knowing. Do you understand?”
Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3) Page 25
