The 3rd Cycle of the Betrayed Series Collection: Extremely Controversial Historical Thrillers (Betrayed Series Boxed set)

by Carolyn McCray

  The old man hesitated. At his age, he had probably been through several uprising and rebel wars. Brandt didn’t fault him for his caution.

  In the end, the old man took the money and urged them to follow him. They went out to the synagogue and across the street to a small hut.

  * * *

  Davison watched as Brandt, Rebecca, and Sallah crossed the narrow street, following the old man. They began to enter the small hut.

  He scanned the rest the village, which took him all of two seconds. The rain had died down to a drizzle. On the far side of village, Lopez was guarding the car, because realistically, if they’d left it alone, the SUV in this small village, the vehicle would’ve been stripped by now. Although guarding the car wasn’t the only thing the corporal was doing.

  Oh, no. Lopez was playing hacky sack with the youth of the village. Laughter and screams of joy drifted from the other side of the village. Of course Lopez was a champion hacky sack player. The children were counting off how many times Lopez could bounce the sack without missing. When it became obvious that that number was probably going to be infinity, they formed a circle and bounced the sack between them all.

  Lopez was a one-man entertainment phenomenon.

  By the time Davidson scanned back to the hut, the team was already inside. There was a tentative energy about the village. None of the adults had ventured out since they had arrived. It was as if the village was holding its breath.

  Not that Davidson blamed them, Americans, especially armed ones, usually meant trouble. In this part of the world the villagers expected to get taken advantage of by any armed forces. It was sad but true. The CIA had made promises to the Ethiopians that they couldn’t fulfill. And with a civil War still raging, these villagers were in the crossfire.

  Davidson turned and viewed the mountains to the west. Did Noah’s tomb really lay there?

  They would soon find out.

  * * *

  Rebecca took a step forward. The place was dim and the dirt floor already muddy with rain dripping down between the thatches of the roof. An old woman sat near the smoky fire, weaving something on a rickety table.

  Before they got halfway across the room, the woman spat at their feet.

  Now had that been a biker that spit at Brandt? He would have gotten his face punched. But this old woman probably had good reason to be disdainful towards Americans.

  She spoke low and in broken English. “Americans and your money. You can get a son to betray his mother.”

  “We only wish to talk,” Rebecca stated and the woman spat again.

  “No words can undo your deceitful tricks.”

  Rebecca took another step forward. “You speak of my government, not me.”

  “Wasn’t it you that bribed my son?”

  Rebecca bowed to the woman. “We meant no disrespect.”

  The woman spat again. This time hitting Rebecca’s knee.

  Rebecca looked over her shoulder to Sallah. She nodded for him to come forward. He was anything but an American.

  “Holy woman, we are here to seek Noah’s grave.” Sallah, stated holding the shard of the ark for her to see.

  Sallah stepped closer as she leaned over the artifact. Now Rebecca could see that one eye squinted while the other was wide-open with a milky cataract in the center of the eye.

  Obviously she couldn’t see through the one eye, and it looked like she had limited vision in the other.

  Then she spat again. It seemed to be her go-to move.

  “If you have this, then why do you need me? Go find your ark and leave us alone.”

  “We would if we could, Great Mother, but we need direction. Since yours is the first Jewish settlement in Cush’s kingdom, we thought a rabbi of your stature might know where we could search.”

  “You expect an old woman to help you find Noah?” the old woman snorted, then, of course, spat. Duh.

  “You must know of the legends, of the time when Ethiopia was the crown jewel of Africa.”

  Rebecca dodged in time to avoid the next wad of spittle.

  “Do not think to flatter me. It only reminds me of all that we have lost.”

  Sallah knelt down beside the woman and took her wrinkled hands in his own. “Please, the flood is upon us, Great Mother. I am of the Foremen, yet do not know what to build.”

  The woman face softened for the first time. “In honesty, I do not know. I only know the legends of the mountain people.”

  “And?” Sallah asked.

  “There are caves along the northern shore, however, with the rain the entrances maybe underwater.”

  Sallah pressed his forehead against the woman’s knuckle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. May God bless this house and all of this village.”

  Rebecca looked over to her husband and gave him that look that said “I told you we should bring him along.”

  Then he shot her the look that said, “Gloating doesn’t look so good on you.”

  However Rebecca knew it looked fabulous on her.

  * * *

  Stark sat next to Bunny feeling possibly the most helpless he ever had in his entire life. There was nothing he could do but watch her vitals spike all over the place and the alarms go off nearly every two minutes.

  These would bring the doctors and nurses running and they would frown and fret, do calculations on their tablets, frown some more, then adjust one or more of her medications.

  Then they would leave and the cycle would start all over again in a few minutes.

  He barely had any time to work on his computer, but that mattered little as Bunny’s lips turned an ashen gray and her eyes refused to open.

  He took her hand and whispered into her ear, “I’m here. I’m not leaving. And I’ll always appreciate you. Every time you come home, I’ll make sure that mom makes those butterscotch cookies you like so much. Every time. I won’t let her use her carpal tunnel syndrome as an excuse.”

  Bunny didn’t respond, but that was okay. Like he said, he was here for her.

  Stark looked over at her monitors. Nearly every value was in the yellow. Whether because it was too high or low didn’t matter. It did matter that her body was having a hard time overcoming all the trauma.

  If only he could’ve taken some of the burden from her.

  He sniffled. There was one person that he knew could do that.

  And it had been so long since he had prayed, Stark wasn’t sure if he knew how to do it. The only reason he had prayed back then was to try and get a Mormon girl to go to the prom with him.

  Would God even listen to a techno-agnostic anyway?

  But he had promised Davidson that he would do everything possible to save Bunny. He could just never tell his mother.

  Closing his eyes, pressing his cheek against Bunny’s unmoving hand, he prayed.

  * * *

  Brandt sat on the uncomfortable and very wet seat of the boat they had rented. Their guide, a thirteen-year-old boy, pulled on the outboard motor’s engine. It refused to turn over. Brandt didn’t blame it. The rains had started up again. It was a really crappy day to go for a ride on the lake.

  Lopez went over then made a few adjustments, and the thing started right up.

  Pulling away from the dock, they made their way across the large lake, heading north towards where the caves were supposed to be.

  The boy had sworn that he knew of the caves, but Brandt was also pretty sure that the boy would’ve sworn he was Madonna to get the hundred American dollars they were offering.

  And now with these heavy rains, the cave could be underwater and nearly impossible to get to. Which was pretty much how their luck had run this entire mission.

  Brandt scanned along the horizon. There were no signs of the Chinese, but then again there hadn’t been any on the Caspian Sea. And there had been a submersible right underneath them.

  If they weren’t on a time-sensitive mission, this might have been a beautiful ride. The rain made an once-in-a-lifetime pattern across the lake’s su
rface. And the wind acted like a painter’s brush, pushing the rain into waves of graceful arcs.

  “Company,” Davidson stated, pointing across the lake.

  Brandt couldn’t see them yet, but he trusted Davidson. If the sniper said there was another boat out there, there was.

  “Nationality?”

  To Brandt’s relief, Davidson said, “Looks like Ethiopian rebels.”

  The problem with flashing that much cash in a poor village was that news traveled quickly. Even the change that Rebecca had given the kids would be reported back to the rebel camp.

  Usually the rebels preyed on helpless tourists. More than likely, they were armed with automatic weapons. Most of the villagers only had handguns. This gave the rebels a distinct advantage.

  But, guess what?

  His team wasn’t anything approaching helpless.

  “Send them a warning shot,” Brandt ordered.

  Davidson’s eyebrow went up. “A warning shot?”

  “Let’s give these guys the benefit of the doubt, but make the shot low enough that they start to take us seriously.”

  The sniper put his rifle up to his shoulder and took aim.

  The shot boomed in their ears.

  “Done,” Davidson reported.

  Almost immediately, the rattle of automatic gunfire filled the air. However the rebels were much too far away to hit them. Brandt got the confirmation he needed that they were armed hostiles.

  “Take out the helmsmen,” Brandt ordered.

  Davidson didn’t hesitate, he pulled the trigger. This sniper must’ve been aiming at the helmsman already to take a shot back quickly. “Done.”

  “What are they doing?”

  Davidson squinted, peering through his scope. “They are looking a little freaked out and it’s pretty much chaos. I wouldn’t be surprised if they capsized themselves.”

  Wouldn’t that be good news?

  They waited for a few moments in the pouring down rain. No more shots. They must’ve figured that the more aggressive they were towards Brandt’s team, the more of them that would be shot.

  “Well?”

  Davidson lowered his rifle. “They’re arguing, but they are turning the boat around to leave.”

  Brandt turned to their guide, “Let’s get going.”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said with far more respect than earlier.

  CHAPTER 13

  Rebecca took Brandt’s hand as he helped her out of the boat. One of the caves was not completely underwater, so they were able to make it in. The last thing in the world that cave looked like was an archaeological discovery.

  The walls were tagged with various rebel related insignias, painted over two to three times. On the ground were empty beer bottles, roach clips, and broken bongs.

  “So this is where the teens hang out?” Brandt asked.

  The boy nodded, making the universal sign for drinking and another hand motion that shouldn’t be made in mixed company. Apparently this cave was quite the romantic destination.

  All over the world, teens seemed to act the same way.

  As soon as they were out of their parents’ sight they did exactly what they weren’t supposed to be doing.

  Worse, that made it very unlikely to be the resting place of Noah.

  The boy pointed to three openings on the other side of the cave. He motioned to the center and right entrances. Making the most of walking his fingers on his palm, he made it clear that teens had explored those two openings. To the left entrance he shook his head.

  “Etiop, etiop,” the boy said making the motion for flying.

  “Bats,” Sallah stated, although Rebecca was pretty sure that they’d already gotten the picture. Good news? It didn’t seem that the teens went down that path.

  Which meant of course, they were going to have to.

  Brandt paid the boy a ten-dollar bill. Her husband held another twenty. “For you if you stick around. And if you see anyone coming, warn us.”

  The boy nodded eagerly, pulling out a beer as he sat on the shore, admiring his crisp new ten dollar bill.

  Brandt turned to Rebecca. “Are you sure you want to go in?”

  No, of course she didn’t want to go in, but if Noah was protected by bats, so be it.

  Davidson had to take a deep breath before entering the tunnel. He wasn’t all that fond of bats. In the Midwest they were considered vermin. He knew that wasn’t true, that bats were your best friend, eating insects like mosquitoes.

  However, that knowledge never had made him anymore fond of the flying rats. It was one of a few things that he may have been afraid of as a child. That high pitched chittering as they swooped past his window at night. He’d duck his head under the covers, and stay there until they were gone.

  Even as a grown man he tried to avoid them with a vengeance. No matter how many cute YouTube videos there were of baby bats suckling on a bottle, Davidson was freaked out by them.

  There was a click on the line and Stark’s broken voice came through. Davidson had to step back to the entrance to get good reception. The rest of the team stopped looking back anxiously.

  “Come again?” Davidson asked.

  “I just want to let you know that Bunny is about as stable as her unstable condition can allow. I’m staying with her 24/7 until she’s out of the woods.”

  “Stark, I can’t thank you enough,” Davidson said truthfully. “I’m about to lose reception, so don’t worry if you can’t raise me. I’ll check in as soon as I can.”

  “Got it,” Stark stated.

  “And Stark, I’m so glad you are there.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. Stay safe.”

  The line clicked off.

  Stark and he had a complicated relationship. Davidson had alternated between being annoyed with the IT guy, or being jealous, or thinking that he was useless.

  Now his feelings couldn’t be more diametrically opposed. He was so grateful to Stark. Bunny was so lucky to have someone that so consistently put her feelings above his own.

  He was seriously going to take Stark out for a beer when they got home.

  Brandt raised an eyebrow as Davidson replaced the phone into his pocket.

  He stepped forward into the bay tunnel, even though he so desperately didn’t want to. “Bunny is still critical but stable.”

  “Then we should get a move on,” Brandt ordered.

  * * *

  What the hell was wrong with this team? Even Prenner seemed reluctant to really push forward at any kind of pace. It was like they are tiptoeing down the tunnel. People, they were just bats, for cryin’ out loud. It was like having a Special Forces team afraid of mice.

  “Let’s pick up the pace,” Brandt ordered for the first time since Prenner had come on the team.

  The point man nodded, yet only brought them up to a leisurely walk.

  What the…even Brandt’s knee didn’t mind this pace.

  What was everyone so afraid of?

  Then the sound of the thousand leaves rustling came down the tunnel. At first Brandt thought he was imagining a high-pitched squeal, but then all too quickly, it became real. It was like somebody was stabbing a thousand pins into his ears.

  “Get down!” Prenner screamed. Brandt didn’t think that he had ever heard Prenner scream. Shout, yes. Yell, yes. Exclaim, certainly. But scream, in a voice as high as Rebecca was? Never.

  Brandt was almost too stunned to duck. The others were already on the ground as the flock of, or as he liked to call it, too fucking many, bats descended down the tunnel.

  They were flapping and screaming and wheeling and diving and generally playing out some kind of Neanderthal nightmare. Brandt fell on top of Rebecca, tucking his head as close to hers as he could.

  He was sure it was only for a few moments, but it felt like hours before the bats flew out of the tunnel and into the cavern they had just left.

  Okay, maybe they should be slightly scared of the bats. Because those weren’t regular bats. Those wer
e some mother-fucking big bats. Like flying cats.

  “That was some freaky shit,” Lopez announced.

  Rebecca didn’t even scold the corporal. She just nodded her head.

  They couldn’t allow the bats to turn them back.

  “Move out,” Brandt ordered, hoping against hope that that was the last of the bats.

  * * *

  Rebecca treaded carefully behind Lopez. It had been a while since they had seen any bats. However, every shadow threatened to bring them down upon her. She could still hear their otherworldly cries and feel their leathery wings against her skin.

  At least now Brandt wasn’t complaining about how slowly they were going. He seemed completely content to take the tunnel inch by inch.

  Prenner pulled up a fist. Everyone stopped in accordance. The point man turned his palms toward them telling them to stay put while he went forward. That was his job, going into the unknown to see if it was safe for the rest.

  Rebecca did not envy him.

  He disappeared around the corner. There was no shrieking or gunfire, so it couldn’t be that bad up ahead. However, when the point man returned his face was white and his eyes dilated to the point of looking painful.

  Prenner turned his hand on its side, giving the follow me signal.

  Rebecca really didn’t want to, but was kind of obligated.

  Slowly they rounded the corner to find a huge cavern. Rebecca didn’t know what was worse. The floor was covered in guano. Like covered. Probably ankle high. It reeked.

  No, seriously, she was on the verge of throwing up just looking at it.

  Up was no better. With the number of bats that had flown passed them, how could there be this many bats still in the cave? There had to be thousands. The ceiling of the cave was covered with them.

  They were squeaking and chirping, grooming themselves and those bats near them. Babies crawled over their moms, as they all hung upside down.

  Rebecca swallowed hard. This mission really was putting her to the test. She looked over her shoulder to her husband and he seemed no more pleased.

  He gave the hand signal to move out, silently.

  Their only hope was to get across the cavern without disturbing the bats. Because Rebecca did not want to be around if the entire flock took off.