Lost World Of Patagonia

by Dane Hatchell

At one-point Matt left his seat and stepped over by Natasha, who sat by one of the four windows. She thought that a bit strange, as Matt could have chosen more than one window to look out of with no one sitting around. He didn’t linger for long, and for a moment acted like he was going to sit next to her. Instead, he meandered over to the other side of the cabin and sat by a vacant window. Not long after, his eyes closed, and his head leaned over—fast asleep.

  Alex sat next to Susan, across from Natasha. On more than one occasion Natasha looked over to see Susan gazing her way—and not turning away when she saw Natasha staring back. This brought some unsettling feelings, and Natasha feared she would show her nervousness and raise unwanted suspicion. Alex had his eyes closed. He didn’t look like he was asleep or even resting, for that matter. Natasha could tell he was in deep thought. She so wished she could read his mind right now. After she had suggested he divorce Susan, the few times they spoke before the trip, she hadn’t mentioned it again. Alex certainly didn’t bring it up, perhaps feeling the story of the embezzlement becoming exposed as the end all. Well, it wasn’t the end all. She didn’t want to share Alex with Susan. If Alex didn’t make a move and find a way out of the marriage, then Natasha would have to woman-up and break away.

  That thought left her cold and empty. Her eyes moistened, and her nostrils burned a bit. She turned her attention toward Ben.

  Even though he didn’t look comfortable, Ben worked on book of crossword puzzles while stretched out across the seat—his back on the seat cushion—and the book upside down. He’d hold the book with one hand while he scribbled in the answers with the other, a gravitational challenge that seemed more trouble than what it was worth.

  Logan had been hacking away at the keyboard on his satellite phone. Natasha used to think he had spent an extraordinary amount of time text messaging to his friends. Later she found out he kept a personal journal and made entries throughout the day. Logan had told her he had started a journal while in puberty, around twelve years old. As hormones kicked in, many kids found their world turned upside down. For Logan, walling himself from others was the safest refuge. But the walls keeping others out became a prison for him, slowly killing his very soul as each day passed. Feeling like there was no one to talk to, especially anyone in his family, Logan checked out a few self-help books from the library. Advice ranged from pertinent to absurd. The one thing that ultimately worked for him was starting a journal. Writing the words to paper acted as a confession. Even though no one else saw it, his thoughts were no longer caged inside. With each passing day more layers of hurt peeled away from his wounds, finally settling the conflict of who he was, and what he wanted from life. No one had a right to judge him for who he loved or why he did so. By the age of 16, he spoke his mind willingly and freely to everyone—consequences be damned. Of course, there had been conflicts. But with each hurtful pruning, his resolve only grew stronger. His affliction had become his strength, and there was no obstacle in life that he wouldn’t find his way around.

  Natasha removed the satellite phone from her jacket and opened her contact list. After several keystrokes and pushing send, she sent Logan a message:

  We should be there soon. You excited?

  Logan continued to type, even though he briefly gazed Natasha’s way; apparently he wanted to finish logging his thoughts.

  I feel like crap. I need some caffeine.

  After a long minute, Logan stopped typing and closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and flexed his neck. He looked over at Natasha and started typing again.

  I miss the open bar on the jet.

  Natasha smiled as she read the message and wished she would have passed on the last glass of wine. Logan held his own when it came to drinking alcohol. He was a fun drunk, and she had never seen him hung over—even after a long night of partying. Logan claimed that dancing was alcohol’s equalizer, ridding it quickly from the body.

  Logan sent another text.

  How weird is it?

  Natasha read the message and gazed back at Logan.

  Logan tilted his head toward Susan Klasse.

  Natasha typed:

  A little worse than I imagined. I’m managing.

  A reply followed:

  I warned you this day would come.

  Yes, Logan had warned her that nothing good could come out of her secret affair with Alex. Natasha chewed on her lower lip and looked at Logan, a displeased expression on her face sent the message she didn’t want to be preached to again. Logan was the only one who knew about the illicit relationship. Natasha had prided herself on how well she hid her attraction for Alex from others. But with Logan, he suspected something early on and mentioned it. Of course, she had denied it, calling a desire for the older man crazy. Natasha was crazy, crazy in love. When she opened up to Logan, because he kept pushing the accusation, he said her feelings were just an infatuation, and that they would pass even before the semester was over. As intuitive as Logan was, he got that part wrong. Her love for Alex was so strong she was almost to the point of abandoning her studies and running away with him to where ever they could find happiness.

  “Attention. We will begin our descent in a moment and touchdown at thirteen thirty,” a crewmember’s voice said over the intercom.

  Everyone stirred. Ben quickly moved to a sitting position and abandoned his crossword puzzle. Natasha tightened her seat belt—she had loosened it during the flight.

  Matt looked up at Natasha, and while smiling, lifted a thumb-up. If he noticed Logan staring intently at him, he didn’t show it.

  The sour expression worn on Susan’s face didn’t dissipate. Alex grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it taut while sitting higher in his seat.

  The Chinook dove through the air faster than Natasha’s stomach could handle. She felt a bit of nausea and reached for the barf bag under her seat. It was there, but the sick feeling passed before she pulled it out.

  Natasha wasn’t sure how high they were to begin with. Helicopters can’t go above 10,000 feet without supplied air. She didn’t think they were near that high during the trip. The descent slowed as she watched out the window. The vast forest thinned as it neared the towering mountain range. A small settlement of tents and a strange looking vehicle marked the landing site.

  The ground neared, debris flew into the air, and the mighty bird set down on terra firma.

  Chapter 6

  Alex saw the blades’ shadows slow to a stop as he watched through the Chinook’s window. He turned his gaze toward the mountains and followed the rugged area up to where the snow and ice formed, unable from his vantage point to see the peaks.

  Ace Corporation had been brief with details, telling Alex that information was sensitive and demanded secrecy, but that all would be revealed upon their arrival in Northern Patagonia. There were times he felt stupid for not pushing the issue—when he fretted over the safety of his group. But the corporation’s representative had been so professional, so smooth, practically convincing Alex that details would do nothing but distract him from his revolutionary work. Of course, Alex felt that if he put up too much of a ruckus, Ace Corporation would find another team to go in.

  He and the rest of his team, including Susan, had to sign confidentiality contracts. Even the University didn’t know the real reason they were going to South America. Ace Corporation offered the grant to study cryptid reports in Brazil. With Alex’s reputation, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and the mission was approved by the University’s board of supervisors.

  Despite all the undercover antics, the contracts plainly stated that Alex and every member of his group would share in the credit if dinosaurs were found to inhabit the area. The deal as a whole was favorable, and Alex signed the dotted line. The fantasy now had become reality. It was time to set foot on new land.

  Ben was the first to remove his headphones—tossing them on the seat next to his backpack, which he then hung from one shoulder. First in line, as usual.

  Natasha fumbled with her s
eat belt before it snapped open. Even though the hours of fatigue weighed on her face, she was still radiantly beautiful.

  He caught Susan shooting jealousy daggers a time or two at Natasha. Which wasn’t an unusual reaction for Susan to have toward any women in Alex’s vicinity. She might not have much desire left for him, but she certainly didn’t want any other woman to spark an interest in her man.

  Susan knew one of his female students was coming on the trip, but he doubted that was the only reason she demanded to accompany him. If there was fame and fortune to be had, she wanted in on it. And if fame and fortune did come, Alex so hoped Susan would rid herself of him. That would be a greater gift than saddling up a T-rex and riding it cross-country.

  Logan had his backpack over both shoulders and helped Matt as he struggled to get his left arm past the strap. Once on, Logan zipped an open pocket and adjusted the length of the straps so the backpack hung evenly.

  The rear door slowly moved, creating an opening nearly as large as the cabin. Alex imagined from the outside the Chinook looked like some giant fish with its mouth gaping open. The air wafting inside was slightly warmer than it had been in the cabin. It brought with it a slight sulfur odor, and then he remembered the active volcano on the other side of the mountains.

  A one-man greeting reception walked from the side into view as Ben stepped off the loading ramp onto the ground. The man looked to be a little older than Alex, perhaps in his sixties, and wore jungle camo fatigues. His gray beard was short and neatly trimmed.

  Ben waited for the others to line up beside him, each looking toward the man for instruction. The man, though, kept his gaze toward Alex. It was obvious he wanted to speak to the person in charge.

  Alex matched gazes with the man, and as he neared, he read ‘Cooper’ embroidered on the man’s light jacket.

  “Where are the others? I thought there would be more sent here to protect us. I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Susan turned and whispered.

  When did Susan ever have a good feeling about anything new? “I’m sure there’re more inside the tents. Stop worrying, and let me handle this.” Alex moved from behind his wife, and stepped over to the side of the ramp in front of Cooper. The ramp had him elevated a couple of feet from Cooper’s eye level.

  “Hello. I’m Alex Klasse,” Alex said matter of factly. He kept his thumbs inside the backpack’s straps, making no attempt to shake hands. Life had taught him on first introductions to greet others in the like manner they greeted him. The procedure generally earned him instant respect.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Klasse. My name is Vincent Cooper. I’ll be heading the expedition for the Ace Corporation.” Dark glasses hid Cooper’s eyes. Though his voice had a pleasant tone, his stiff expression marred his cordial greeting. “I’m sure you and your crew must be tired. Please follow me for some refreshments and to meet the rest of the group.” Cooper waited for Susan and Alex to step off the ramp before turning and heading toward the encampment.

  “We’re in the Army now. We’re in the Army now. You’ll never get rich, you son-of-a-bitch, we’re in the Army now,” Ben sang in a low voice as he marched.

  “Ben, mind your manners,” Alex said.

  “Yes, B’wana.” Ben returned to his normal assertive gait.

  Alex held his tongue, mostly because the others seemed to be slightly embarrassed by Ben’s outbreak. Ben was just being Ben. An excuse they used for him all the time—maybe enabling him more than they should.

  Cooper waited in front of one of the larger tents and pointed with his left hand. “Please step inside. Watch the entrance, the canvas is bunched up, and you might trip.”

  Ben pulled a flap to the side and stepped through. Matt followed, and then Logan and Natasha.

  Before Susan entered, Cooper said, “Mr. Klasse, I need you to join me in the next tent—to discuss things.”

  “Alex, I—”

  “No need to worry, Mrs. Klasse. I won’t keep him very long. Go on inside and get comfortable,” Cooper said.

  “Join the others, Susan. The man says we won’t be long.” Alex had let Cooper know that he was willing to trust him at his word. Now, it would be up to Cooper to prove himself.

  Susan held her gaze on Alex long enough to realize he wasn’t going to change his mind, scowled, and abruptly stepped inside.

  Cooper had headed for a smaller tent a few yards away. Alex followed him until they were both inside.

  A thin plastic table a few feet wide and a couple of feet deep set between two foldout chairs opposite of each other.

  “Please, have a seat,” Cooper said.

  The backpack slid off Alex’s shoulders. He placed it next to the chair and sat, wary of his seat’s sturdiness.

  Cooper walked over to an open box next to other boxes and gear. He took out a clear bottle containing light amber liquid and two glass tumblers. It was obviously alcohol of some sort, but with no label on the bottle it was impossible to identify. He then opened the bottle and poured equal portions into each glass.

  Cooper took his seat and raised his glass.

  Alex lifted his glass, and the two made a silent toast.

  Smooth, rich smokiness caressed his palate, and the gentle fire of spirits warmed his throat. “That was delightful. Judging from the bottle, I was expecting homemade ’shine, and it tasting like lighter fluid. That was a single malt Scotch, one that I’ve not had the pleasure to drink before.”

  “I’m personal friends with my employer. This Scotch is from a private distillery and not available to the public. Drinking Scotch, ‘is a toast to civilization, a tribute to the continuity of culture, a manifesto of man’s determination to use the resources of nature to refresh mind and body and enjoy to the full the senses with which he has been endowed.’ ” Cooper set the glass down and put his hands on the table.

  “David Daiches.”

  “Yes. I memorized that quote the first time I read it. It seems we at least have one thing in common, Mr. Klasse. But you should know I read your file, and I do know you appreciate a good Scotch whiskey.”

  “You have the advantage then. Details of who would accompany us in country were mostly left to my imagination. And I have a very wild imagination.”

  Cooper chuckled. “Yes, your file mentioned that too. I wanted this one-on-one meeting so that we could be better acquainted. Less distractions. Now, I try to run a tight ship, but I’m not a micro manager. As a representative of Ace Corporation, I have goals and objectives different from yours. However, the soldiers under my keep are here to protect both of our interests. You will pursue the hunt for extinct forms of life, and I will pursue my interest.”

  “Which is…”

  “Commodities, Mr. Klasse. I’m sure you at least tried to look up Ace Corporation on the internet to see who wanted to fund this trip.”

  “Yes, I did. Ace Corp is a financial institution that deals in commodities. I never made a connection as to why they wanted to sponsor a trip to find dinosaurs.”

  “Well, that’s where I come in. I’m a geologist. Got my degree after a few stints in Vietnam. I’m here to scope out the area and return with a report of the natural resources I find. There was no way the local government here would allow our excursion if they knew the full truth. That’s why we wanted to use the story of finding cryptid life in an uncharted area as a façade to hide behind. The story has even more credibility because the trip was arranged by Southwood University and has Professors and students involved. The heavy equipment we brought in with us was done through a series of bribes and covert missions. To lay the cards on the table, we are using you as a front for our own greedy purpose. That’s why the contracts stipulate that any extinct animals found in the region can’t be revealed for three years. Those three years will be used by the Ace Corporation to gain control of the interest in the region and all the spoils it contains.”

  Alex maintained his poker face. Nothing Cooper said had surprised him, in fact, he felt stupid for not figuring out t
he plot on his own. So, he was being used by an evil corporation to plunder a pristine area of the world. Nothing honorable about that. One thing for certain, you can’t eat honor, and after all his failures in chasing Bigfoot, instead of being known as a kook by many of his peers, he had a chance to become respected—in everyone’s eyes. Besides, they had all come this far, and if he didn’t do it, someone else would. “Capitalism at its finest. Mr. Cooper—”

  “Coop.”

  “Okay, Coop, call me Alex. I appreciate the directness and look forward to working with you to achieve both of our goals.”

  “Wonderful, this proves we have more in common.” Cooper picked up the bottle of Scotch and poured a serving in each glass. “The area we’re about to explore essentially has been walled off from mankind since way before our ancestors left the trees and walked on two legs. There is an active volcano in the expanse, but it shouldn’t present any problems. One theory is the mountains, combined with the poisonous gases released by the volcano, acted as a deterrent for curious explorers. Recent earthquakes have opened a few pathways in the mountain ranges that allow us easier access. The mountain winds make flight of any type of aircraft into the area too treacherous to attempt. That’s why we have to go across ground and not just helicopter in.”

  “But I was told a drone took the pictures of the pterosaur,” Alex said.

  “Yes, and we’ll have a drone with us on our trip. The pictures were taken by a drone that took a flight through one of the new openings, and it flew lower than the wind turbulence. We had a two-man expedition go in hundreds of miles south of here. That passageway is too narrow for the vehicle we’ll be riding in. What interested Ace Corporation in this area was recent data from a new satellite set in orbit by a private contractor. We were able to match certain signatures in this area of Patagonia with others in the world, which suggest the commodities we are interested in are available.”

  “What kind of commodities?” Alex asked.

  Cooper smiled. “Alex, sorry, but some details must remain private.” He picked up his glass of Scotch and lifted it toward Alex.