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

by Carolyn McCray

  “Problem, sir,” Ki said behind him. Lopez chimed in. “Here too.”

  Of course there was.

  First things first. “Ki?”

  “All the vest are set up on collapsible circuits. There is no way to pull the pin without them exploding.”

  Tell Brandt something new.

  “Lopez?”

  “The door is locked. I mean, locked.”

  Of course it was.

  All par for the course. Ki seemed a little more agitated than the others. But then again, this was his first mission with Alpha Tango.

  “Davidson?” Brandt queried.

  “Yes, sir,” the younger man answered. It was hard to imagine a time when Brandt didn’t trust the sniper. Of course, that was when he’d first learned that Davidson was part of the cult trying to kill them and at least partially responsible for Svengurd’s death. But over time he was able to forgive Davidson. It was a long, hard road, but now Davidson was like an extension of Brandt.

  Alpha Tango was Alpha Tango largely because of Davidson.

  Ki looked confused. “I’m sorry, was there an order in there?”

  Davidson turned to the new point man. “We’re to figure it out.”

  “But it’s a collapsible circuit.”

  Ah, new team members they still thought inside the box. Ki would learn, Brandt was sure of it.

  Because right now they needed the hostages mobile. Underground, trapped in a stone chamber, they didn’t have a lot of options. Running had to be one of them.

  And they couldn’t run if the hostages were wearing enough C-4 to bring down the mountain.

  * * *

  Davidson had Bridget sit down. He knelt next to her. “I’m going to need you to stay very still.”

  “I think I’ve got that down,” the young woman said.

  Davidson gently gripped her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. The other hostages all seemed way too spooked to be trusted. Hopefully the same ice ran through Bridget’s veins as it had her uncle.

  “So what is the plan?” Ki asked.

  “If we can’t pull the pin out of the C-4…”

  Davidson waited. Would Ki pick up on what he intended to do?

  Finally Ki sighed. “You are going to dig the detonator out.”

  “Sort of,” Davidson stated. The sad part was that he had a lot of experience at this. Go figure.

  To their side, Rebecca studied the multitude of symbols and ancient Peruvian text scrawled on the walls. Davidson did not envy her. He was almost glad he had the C-4 detail.

  First Davidson cut the C-4 pack close to the detonator, but not too close. He handed Ki the chunk. “Keep it, we may need that later.”

  The point man nodded, ripping open the Velcro of his front pocket and dropped the brick in. Davidson then cut the rest of the C-4 away from the primary detonator. There were, of course, lead wires that connected to the other C-4 packets.

  This was going to a long and arduous process. Luckily Davidson had the patience of a sniper.

  Ever so carefully, Davidson shaved away the C-4 until he could see the silver of detonator pin through the grey explosive. Time to move onto the next.

  Ki seemed to get the plan and started on another brick.

  One by one they striped the C-4 down, leaving only enough of the explosive on the detonator in case the metal was sensitive to exposure.

  Finally, they reached the last brick. Bridget blew out a breath, nearly collapsing.

  “Do me next,” a tall man urged. He looked like he might be the Ambassador. He had the most expensive suit of the bunch.

  “We’re not done yet,” Davidson said.

  There was still enough explosive on those detonators to do serious harm to Bridget. They had to get her out of the vest.

  “We’re going to cut her out of it,” Davidson said.

  The young woman was fairly thin. They should just be able to expand the arm holes a little and lift it right off of her.

  Davidson took his knife and cut stitch by stitch along the seam. Ki grabbed Bridget’s hand and held it. The young woman was biting her lips so deeply it began to bleed.

  Nothing could happen, Davidson kept telling himself. He had to save Svengurd’s niece. He just had to. In some way he had to make up for his own part in the tall Swede’s death.

  Davidson was half way done when a red light flashed on Bridget’s shoulder. There must be some kind of weight sensor. “Pull down on the bottom.”

  Ki did as instructed and the red light went off.

  That had been close. This was going to be slightly more difficult than he originally thought.

  He finished the seam. Now to pull the vest off of Bridget without detonating the remaining C-4.

  Davidson looked to Ki. He nodded. They were both ready.

  “Bridget lift your arms.”

  The young woman did as instructed. She certainly had her uncle’s composure.

  Sucking in a deep breath, Davidson inch-by-inch pulled the vest up. Ki kept tension on the bottom to simulate the weight of the C-4.

  Once it was over Bridget’s head, Davidson indicated Ki toss the vest to an open space in the small cave.

  “Fore!” Davidson yelled as they tossed the vest to the side.

  Pop, pop, pop. Twelve pops in all. Nothing more than a small firecracker.

  They’d saved one. Now could they save the rest?

  * * *

  Rebecca ignored the men behind her. She trusted Davidson implicitly. She didn’t quite trust herself to figure out the symbols on the wall. It seemed to be a mishmash of ancient Peruvian, constellations, and artistic liberty.

  The Peruvian was the easiest of the bunch. It seemed that each section was a quote of a gospel. The symbols seemed to represent the stars in the corresponding constellations. Then there were these odd symbols that she couldn’t decipher.

  She was taking pictures for Bunny, but there was no way she could transmit them until they were above ground. She really wished the redhead were here. The younger archeologist was much more versed in New World symbolism.

  Oddly there were no crosses or even the line drawing of a fish which was the proto-Christian symbol for Christ. There were a few Greek and Latin symbols as well.

  The letter P with the letter X superimposed over it. Chi Ru. The first two letters of Christ in Greek. A fairly common representation of Christ in the early years after his death. It was said the Emperor Constantine saw the symbol in the sky before an important battle.

  Another, INRI, was frequently repeated on the wall. Translated it meant Jesus Christ, King of the Jews. It had been inscribed on the top bar of the crucifix. The Romans had meant it as a slur, but the faithful took it on as a rallying cry. Little did they know.

  There were several other Latin and Greek symbols for Christ, but besides being devotional to Jesus, she wasn’t quite sure what this all had to do with Jesus coming to America and writing his own Gospel.

  “Anything?” Brandt asked.

  “Sorry,” Rebecca said. “I’ve translated most of it, but nothing too exciting.”

  “No description of how we get out of here?” Brandt asked.

  “Sorry, nothing that topical. More just of the Glory of Christ.”

  “Let me know if you find anything,” her husband stated.

  Like she wouldn’t shout it out? She’d rather not be locked in a subterranean chamber. Nothing good ever came of that. She should know.

  She scanned the faces of the hostages. Davidson and Ki had freed another three. There were still ten whose lives hung in the balance. Actually, with that much C-4 still in play, all of their lives were in jeopardy.

  Static suddenly filled the air, then it went quiet again.

  Rebecca was pretty sure that wouldn’t last long.

  * * *

  Brandt cocked his head, waiting for whatever was coming next. He felt fairly certain he could count on it not being good. He’d hoped for a little more time. Davidson and Ki weren’t even half way through disarming
the hostages.

  “El Barbaro,” Heathen. A voice crackled above them. Brandt squinted. “I am Cristoval.”

  There was a speaker grate camouflaged in the rock. Despite the circa 50’s sounding speakers, the voice sounded crystal clear.

  “I’m a practicing Catholic, but whatever,” Brandt answered. He had to assume there was a mic somewhere in the cave.

  “A religion that only tells half the truth,” Cristoval stated.

  Again, whatever. Brandt just wanted out of this stupid cave.

  “Our days are numbered. The end of days is rushing toward us.”

  Lopez made the mouth-flapping hand signal. “Tell us something we haven’t heard before.”

  Brandt glared at his driver. Probably best not to antagonize the religious maniac while they were in his clutches.

  “Believe me. Do not believe me,” Cristoval said. “You will die all the same.”

  While Lopez didn’t respond verbally. His hand still flapped away.

  Brandt couldn’t blame him though.

  “And what do you want from us?” Brandt asked even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

  “We want the pendant.”

  Like Brandt said. Duh.

  “Then come on down here and get it,” Brandt replied to the shock and horror of the hostages.

  CHAPTER 12

  Rebecca would like to say she wasn’t initially horrified by Brandt’s statement. She trusted her husband one thousand percent. But hearing him bait Cristoval down into this small cave had seemed rather dangerous.

  She’d felt that surge of adrenaline. The bitter taste at the back of her mouth that had nothing to do with the meatball sandwich she’d eaten at the airport. The way her pulse beat against her eardrum. The way her hands got clammy.

  The rest of the room, with the exception of Brandt’s team, had an equal or stronger reaction than she did. There were gasps, outcries, and sobbing. At least she wasn’t that bad. She did notice that the newest member of Brandt’s team, Ki, did look, for just a moment, askance, at Brandt’s challenge.

  Well, if Brandt wanted to shake up the balance of power, he’d done it. In theory, trapped in this cave, Brandt should have no leverage. What was stopping Cristoval and the Brotherhood from killing them all and just taking the pendant?

  Wait. What was stopping them?

  Her head whipped around to meet Brandt’s eyes.

  It was her. She was the reason they hadn’t been slaughtered. The Brotherhood must think she had insight into their problem. They had seen it before. Some obscure cult that was pretty much inbred for centuries couldn’t figure out where their ancestors had hidden an important artifact and needed Rebecca’s fresh eyes brought to the problem.

  Brandt was betting a lot. The lives of everyone in this cave, as a matter of fact. He was also betting on the fact that she was worth all of this.

  So she better get her crap together. Rebecca needed to look like an attractive target. Composed. Basically someone calm, cool and collected to kidnap.

  Which meant she couldn’t blubber and panic like the rest. Brandt gave the slightest nod to her, confirming her suspicions.

  Taking in a deep breath, Rebecca watched as two of the male hostages had to hold the Ambassador back from apparently trying to attack Brandt. Rebecca chuckled. Right. That flabby guy was going to take on the granite soldier. Brandt would lay the guy out with a single punch.

  “Well?” Brandt urged. Cristoval had gone all quiet. Imagine that.

  * * *

  Davidson craned to hear what was happening on the other side of the line. Brandt had made his intention clear. Cristoval not so much. There was a lot of static. Maybe a few deep sighs and possibly a quiet argument in the background, but certainly no intelligible response.

  He glanced over to Ki, who wore a worried expression. Lopez, of course, was busy cleaning his cuticles with his thumbnail.

  Davidson had no idea what Brandt’s play was, but what did it matter? He would back Brandt to the hilt. No need to know why. Lopez apparently felt the same way. They were just hanging out, waiting for Brandt to drop the hammer and get them moving.

  “Why…” Cristoval’s voice sounded a little shaky. “Why would I come down there to you with all your weapons?”

  “Oh, we’ll drop them. Place them on the other side of the room.”

  “Say what?” Lopez whispered harshly at Davidson. Davidson simply shrugged. Again, he had no idea where Brandt was going with this, but he trusted the man. How could he not after all this time?

  “This will be a gentlemen’s agreement,” Brandt stated. “We won’t have any weapons and neither will you. We will do this in a civilized manner.”

  Again, there was a pretty long pause. Davidson wished he had a perch. He would feel much better about all of this. However Brandt’s plan, whatever it was, didn’t seem to require any weapons. An odd choice, but Brandt liked to play it fast and loose. And weird. Don’t forget weird.

  At the least this plan was going to be a surprise to everyone beyond Brandt. Davidson could hardly wait to see how Brandt planned to pull this off.

  Davidson scanned the hostages. Most of them had settled down, but quite a few of them were crying. A complete waste of moisture in Davidson’s opinion. The only dry-eyed hostage was Bridget, Svengurd’s niece. The girl did have that same nearly robotic beauty and aloofness as her uncle.

  “I…” Cristoval came back on the line. “I will be down within a few minutes.”

  Brandt pulled his rifle off his shoulder and tossed it down on the ground. “Great. We’ll be here.”

  * * *

  Bunny wasn’t sure what she expected from the upscale DC home that was owned by a South American shaman, but this wasn’t it. You couldn’t tell this wasn’t the house of a prominent plastic surgeon. All the artwork was beautiful but neutral. The chandelier over the foyer was large but gratuitous. The marble was polished to an inch of its life.

  It didn’t look like many people visited.

  Rojas seemed to know his way around and took them up the sweeping staircase. Bunny had assumed that they would go down. Down into a basement or something, but no, they went up. One flight, then a second.

  Next they headed down an oriental- carpeted hallway. A long one. How many bedrooms did this mansion have anyway? This place could house dozens of people, yet their muffled footsteps didn’t raise any kind of concern. Not a single person seemed to live in the lavish home.

  They reached one last staircase that led up. Which was weird because Bunny was pretty sure this mansion was only three stories.

  Rojas got to the door. There was a fairly elaborate locking mechanism that required several key codes. When he opened the door, sunlight spilled into the staircase.

  The roof. They were at the roof.

  Weird.

  Weirder, as Bunny stepped out of the staircase, she would have sworn she stepped into the Amazon forest. Even the insect sounds were there. Tall trees blocked any outsider from seeing this private jungle. That was what the huge ornate façade on the front of the home was doing. Protecting this forest sanctuary.

  The green flora was so dense that Bunny couldn’t see much further than a few feet in front of her.

  She did, however, make out a python sliding across the branches. A grunt brought her attention to a peccary, a small pig-sized herbivore normally found in the Amazon.

  This was freaky.

  “Come,” Rojas urged, taking her hand and leading her into the jungle.

  Bunny pushed back a large frond, avoiding the snake in the meantime. Her Jimmy Choo heels were never going to be the same. Why hadn’t she worn flats?

  Finally they reached a small, and Bunny meant small, like ten by ten, clearing. This shaman sat in the center of it, staring into a small pond. His hand lashed out and came back with a small fish, which he ate whole.

  Dear God.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  * * *

  Stark opened his front door
. “Mom! We’ve got company!”

  He shouted because sometimes his mother was a little sketchy on wearing pants lately. She’d seen an episode of The Middle and now felt pants were optional.

  “Come on up!” came the response.

  Cama entered after Stark and glanced around the super average looking house. “It’s nice.”

  It wasn’t and they both knew it. The downstairs was boring. Just how they wanted it to look. Whenever postmen or UPS or food delivery came to their door, Stark and his mother wanted nothing out of the ordinary. They didn’t want to raise any red flags.

  If it weren’t for that, Stark would have had his entire Star Wars action figures on proud display. So, yah, probably better they were keeping their eccentricities on the down low.

  He headed for the back of the kitchen to climb the stairs up to the attic. Now the attic was not normal at all. Cama climbed behind him, tight behind him. Damn her and her body heat.

  Mom had already security-cleared Cama. She had an exceptionally boring background, but then again she was a lingerie model. Not a lot of time to commit high crimes while balancing on four inch heels.

  His mother hadn’t questioned why Stark was bringing Cama back to the attic, except for the fact she asked to come.

  Oh, that and the fact that someone was following him.

  But when was someone not after them?

  Did Cama have anything to do with it?

  He didn’t want to believe his angel in white could ever do anything that nefarious. Mom had given the go ahead anyway for Cama to come, despite the multiple questions they had for her.

  Or maybe because of the questions. Best to talk to her here, where they were assured of complete privacy.

  Stark opened the door to the attic. He was actually surprised when Cama sucked in a loud breath. He was so used to he and his mother’s awesomeness, he just took the attic for granted, but he could see how an outsider like Cama was thoroughly shocked and impressed.

  It had been his tech equipment that had really reeled in Tika as well. He’d learned though that all it took was some sales rep with bigger toys to lure a woman like that away.