Zombie Team Alpha: Lost City Of Z

by Steve R. Yeager

  Cutter almost said, “If by right away, you meant after an hour,” but held his tongue.

  “I have to give you credit, Mr. Cutter.”

  “Yeah? For what?”

  “For having the right connections in the right places. Somewhere. Care to share with me who is protecting you?”

  He ignored the question. “I’d ask you to sit, Agent, but our food is about here and there really isn’t any room for you at our table. There is another table over there.” He pointed toward the far corner, over by the hallway leading to the bathrooms. “You can wait there until we are done, and I’ll be happy to answer any questions that I can.”

  “Who is it, Mr. Cutter? Who’s protecting you?”

  “Ms. Harpy—I mean Harper. You can’t expect me to share information of that level with you now, do you? Think of the unfairness of it all to the parties involved. Those charges you tried to bring us up on were trumped up and phony. You almost made us late for a very important assignment with that careless…stunt you pulled in New York.”

  She wet her tight lips as she glared at him. “I heard about what happened in Russia, Mr. Cutter. We have investigated the man you were with—a Mr. Anton Moray. I hope you can understand that he has ties to—let’s just say…unsavory characters.”

  Cutter nodded to the two men with Agent Harper in turn. Neither one of them looked all that happy to be there, which made Cutter wonder why either of them hadn’t found some way to undercut their boss. Another thing about loyalty was that it made little sense to be loyal to someone who didn’t actually deserve it. Ask Caesar about that one. He had the knives in his ribs to prove it.

  Maybe the agents feared her? Maybe they were just biding their time for the right opportunity? Either way, Cutter had nothing against the two with her. He winked at one of them. The guy coughed into his fist and shifted his weight onto his opposite foot, and there was just a hint of a smile on his face.

  “What?” Agent Harper said as she turned to look at the man.

  “Nothing, ma’am,” the guy said.

  Agent Harper made a dismissive gesture. “Excuse us for a moment, Agents. I wish to speak with Mr. Cutter alone.”

  The two men turned and strode off together, back to the lobby of the restaurant. One picked up a candy from a bowl on a podium and started to unwrap it. The other fetched a toothpick, examined it, and stuck it in his mouth.

  Cutter turned his attention back to the agent in front of him. “What do you want?”

  “What do I want? I want to give you a warning, Mr. Cutter. The man you are working for is a very dangerous man. We’ve been following his…exploits for years, but no one has been able to produce the evidence necessary to get a conviction. We can’t even get an indictment.”

  “On RICO?” Cutter asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to say.” She exhaled. “It is interesting company you keep, Mr. Cutter. A physically violent, convicted felon—and a computer hacker who should be a convicted felon. And then there is you, of course, who should have been locked up for life long ago. Only one of you here now has not committed any crimes—as of yet. Given enough time, I’m certain she will end up just as guilty as the rest of you.”

  “Aw,” Cutter said, making a tsking noise with his tongue. “Now you’ve gone and insulted my new girlfriend. I can’t have that. If you are not going to arrest us, why don’t you just go away and leave us alone. Go on, shoo.” He made the same dismissive hand gesture she had made earlier.

  Reyna glanced at him and mouthed, girlfriend? He smirked back at her. Agent Harper pulled at the lapel of her pantsuit. She grinned as well. She had smeared lipstick on the very tips of her yellowed teeth. Cutter caught a glimpse of her fingers and saw the nicotine stains between her index and middle fingers. He was a little glad now that he’d given up smoking. The look was not so good.

  “Just be warned, Mr. Cutter—stay away from Anton Moray in all of his dealings.”

  “Thank you for the advice, Agent. I’ll take your consideration for us…under deep consideration.”

  She stared at him, lips going as tight as a duck’s ass.

  A waiter interrupted her when he arrived with the food. The jittery guy hovered behind Agent Harper, not knowing if he should pass by her or not. Cutter signaled for him to proceed. The guy did, working himself around the intractable woman agent and setting the plates down on the table, and then sliding them into place.

  “Our food is here, Ms. Harper,” Cutter said. “If you would please excuse us. I’m hungry.”

  The agent pursed her lips even tighter, cracking the thick makeup surrounding them. She backed away a step. “I’m certain you are up to something, Mr. Cutter. Anton Moray is not a man you should fuck with. Neither am I. I’d recommend you find someone else to partner with.”

  “Thank you for your advice,” Cutter said as he unrolled his silverware and placed the napkin in his lap. “But I don’t appreciate your language. Not in front of my friends here. And who I chose to sleep with”—he looked at Reyna—“is my own damn business. You aren’t my type, anyway…Agent.”

  Agent Harper shook her head. “You’d better not even think of leaving the country with that man, Mr. Cutter. Do I make myself clear?”

  Cutter bit into his cheeseburger. It was hot and dripping grease. Just how he liked it. He chewed slowly, looking at the agent until her eyes dropped. She spun on her heel, collected her men by the exit, and left.

  “What a bitch,” Morgan said.

  - 9 -

  HEART OF THE AMAZON

  Rio de Janeiro was a whirlwind of sights and sounds. Bright lights, vivid colors, abject poverty, gaudy riches, and odoriferous waves of weighty scents, both good and bad—all packed together behind a crescent-shaped, pale-yellow, sandy beach.

  But Cutter didn’t even get a chance to check out the local attractions in detail before he and his team were loaded, along with everything they had brought along, into one of the twin Brazilian KC-390s that would take them on an almost thousand-mile journey to the heart of the Amazon Basin. He was a little disappointed about the mad rush they’d been in to get to the landing zone. It would have been better to have stuck around for a bit and see how his new girlfriend looked topless with one of those tiny string-bikini bottoms covering almost nothing as she emerged from the crystal-blue surf. That, in and of itself, would have made the entire trip worth it. Having her covered up as she was now just wasn’t the same. Beauty such as hers had to be experienced and appreciated firsthand.

  Instead of being able to witness her half-naked bronzed skin on a sun-warmed beach, he had to settle for having her seated beside him on a bench seat inside the cargo plane, dressed for a jungle expedition—and on the verge of shaking apart at the seams.

  “It’s not that bad,” he said loudly enough to be heard over the whine of the engines. “When you jump, I’ll be right along there with you the entire way. My guys and I have done this a million times.” By a million times, he meant, maybe ten. Stretching it, maybe fifteen. He’d lost count along the way, as jumping out of an airplane that was not on fire or in danger of crashing was not something he enjoyed doing. Far too often, in a life filled with experiences where things could go horribly wrong for him, they had.

  But jumping from a plane was the easiest way to get to where Moray wanted them to begin the operation. There were no available airstrips nearby capable of handling the large KC-390s filled to the brim with heavy cargo. While there existed one other possible exception, that would require a two- or three-hundred-mile trek across rutted and crumbling roads, which would take many grueling days to accomplish. With the rainy season arriving soon, it might take even longer.

  He leaned his head back against the bulkhead and tried to get comfortable. The steady hum of the engines resonated throughout his entire body. It wouldn’t be long now. They were all set to jump as soon as they reached the drop-zone, which was coming up shortly. Once they jumped from their plane, the second KC-390 would descend and do a slow-roll parachut
e drop of the two big Mercedes G-63s. If that all went as planned, they’d have the twin 6x6s to use however they saw fit.

  Even though they planned to start far inland, it would still take another hundred or more miles over challenging terrain to get to their target campsite, which for all Cutter knew, was somewhere ‘deep in the jungle.’ Anton Moray had been playing his cards close to the vest on this one and keeping the exact location secret. While Cutter would rather know precisely where they were going, he could understand the man’s reasoning. He would have done the same thing.

  Secrets have a way of slipping out when more than one person knew about them.

  From what Cutter did know of the jungle area they were about to enter, he was certain at some point they would all have to make a long trek on foot, maybe even having to hack their way through the thick jungle with machetes like they did in the movies. Ecuador had been a bit like that, but there’d been better roads leading to the caves, and a cross-country trek had not been required.

  Everything so far appeared to have been well planned by Moray and his team. Cutter was satisfied with the detail that had gone into coordinating the mission. But, what bothered him the most was just how things had gone so far. Just a bit too smoothly. He also wondered how large the budget for this little operation was. More than he could ever afford to pay, that was for sure. He probably would have been fine taking an extra week or two to make the cross-country trek to save a few bucks.

  So, he thought—why the rush?

  He shifted on the bench and cracked his neck, side to side. Dr. Martinez was beside him and checking the assorted buckles and straps on her parachute. She examined all aspects of her equipment, which was a level of detail he appreciated, but did not necessarily follow. He’d already gone through his and was confident that everything was fine. Probably fine. Yeah, fine.

  He cleared his throat. “Be sure to steer yourself clear of any trees, or any other obstructions you can become hung up on, and you’ll do okay. The landing part is easy. To steer and control your descent, just pull on the handles. Right to go right, left to go left. When you get about twenty feet from the ground, yank down hard on both handles, pull up your legs like you want to sit, and you’ll come to a gentle landing you can walk away from.” He raised one eyebrow. “Any landing you can walk away…”—he stopped himself—“Just don’t worry. It’s easy-peasy.”

  “What handles?” she asked.

  “Uh…you’ll see. These chutes are preprogrammed. They’ll pop open on their own. So you don’t need to worry about that.” He checked her pack and the altimeter on the side, verifying what he’d just claimed. He wasn’t sure of what he’d just said, but he was fairly confident. Yeah, confident. Pretty much confident.

  The equipment had been set up by Moray’s staff, and he was positive the man had thought it would be a waste of good money to drag Cutter’s team halfway around the world and have them all go splat when they landed. Moray didn’t strike him as the kind of guy who squandered resources that way.

  Reyna glared at him. “You are not filling me with confidence, Jack.” She scooted away from him and turned so as not to have to look at him.

  He slid backward and leaned his head against the bulkhead and shut his eyes. The rumble of the aircraft vibrated throughout his entire body. There was a relaxing quality to it. He took a few deep breaths and gave some rein to his nagging thoughts.

  Many things were still bothering him. Events were moving quickly. A bit too quickly. Soon they would be leaving the world of machines and conveniences and reentering a much more primitive world of tooth and nail.

  He’d survived before in such hostile lands, but that didn’t mean it was his first preference. They’d soon be out among the bushes and trees where the natives, he’d heard, were generally hostile to outsiders.

  The entire Amazon Basin was a dangerous place, which was why he’d not really bothered to go traipsing about in it before, even at the insistence of his wife. Except for once. She was now dead because he’d agreed to go to Ecuador. He should have said, “No” this time as well—but he hadn’t. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

  On the flight in, he’d discussed these various dangers the Amazon presented with Reyna. She’d reminded the team about how it was filled with so many hazards—venomous snakes, disease-laden mosquitos, giant spiders that set traps for unsuspecting victims, burrowing flies, vampire bats, flesh-eating fish—even giant electric eels that could shock a man to death. And, lest he not forget, she had reminded him it was also full of nasty nighttime predators like jaguars and crocodiles. Then she’d gone on to mention the giant ants that ate away clothes and left huge welts on the skin. And ticks that were more leech than tick. And parasites that burrowed into any available orifice.

  The whole damned joyous list just went on and on. The place was a cornucopia of death. As a kid, he’d always appreciated the danger—from a distance.

  So what if it did turn out that there were zombies as well? Could they make it any worse?

  Yup, they could.

  Still, he did have a boyhood desire to see it through. He’d read so much about the explorers of the late 1800s and early 1900s. He just never would have believed he’d ever become one of them.

  There can’t be a lost city out there…can there?

  Maybe…?

  Morgan joined them while he was letting his thoughts drift back and forth between danger and glory, calculating the probabilities of success and failure and wondering how in the hell he was going to keep everyone alive.

  Morgan sat next to him, leaned over, and whispered in his ear, “You think that FBI lady was upset we left?”

  He shrugged his total lack of care as his mind shifted gears.

  She placed a hand on his thigh. “Jack, I hate to admit this, but I’m a little nervous about this op. I’m feeling we are in over our heads already, and it will only get worse.”

  He smiled at her. “What else is new?”

  She broke into a nervous grin of her own, dragged a lock of hair over one ear with a finger, and pushed herself back to standing. She continued forward on the plane, leaving him alone again with Dr. Martinez.

  Cutter put a hand on Reyna’s shoulder and massaged it, thinking that maybe they could get in a little session before they had to jump, but she pulled away from him. Sighing, he leaned back and shut his eyes. It would be at least another hour until they arrived over the jump zone, and if he wasn’t going to be enjoying her company in a carnal way, he figured he needed a little shuteye instead.

  He awoke with a start. Time had passed. How much, he didn’t know. He yawned and stretched his arms wide. Anton Moray was standing in front of him with the ever-present Ajay Covenant at his side. Moray held up five fingers and said in a loud voice, “Five minutes until we jump.”

  Cutter had heard him just fine, but quickly realized Moray was wearing earplugs. Perhaps he should have been wearing some as well. Much as he hated to admit it, his hearing was starting to go. As was his eyesight. As was just about everything else. He was getting old, worn out.

  He yawned again as he stood, blinking away sleep, then headed for the passenger compartment, scratching himself here, adjusting himself there. Gauge met him before he reached the doorway to the general passenger area. The large man was dressed in a skin-tight T-shirt and black combat BDUs. He was also wearing Betty, his customized, skull-busting Desert Eagle .50 the man treated like a child treats a teddy bear. He never left home without it. Gauge indicated his readiness for the jump with a curt nod of respect and walked past to join Moray, Covenant, and Rogers. They were assembling at the rear of the aircraft, prepared to jump.

  An alarm went off, and Morgan came jogging past him, holding her parachute and shoving her arms through the straps. She gave him half a grin, and then she was gone.

  That was almost everyone.

  Almost.

  He cocked his head to one side to see around the forward bulkhead and into the small passenger compartment beyond.
/>   Reyna wasn’t there either.

  “Where the hell are you…?” he whispered to himself. If he didn’t find her, they’d miss the jump. He wasn’t sure if the plane would be willing to make a second pass or not, or if the pilots had even calculated that into the fuel load. But he wasn’t about to leave her behind.

  The alarm tones changed, becoming steady and more insistent. A pair of green lights clicked on above the forward bulkhead, and Cutter felt a shuddering rumble through the soles of his feet as the rear hatch of the aircraft began to lower. A rush of air filled the cargo space.

  Still, no Dr. Martinez.

  They would not be over the jump zone for long. No more than a minute or two. He hadn’t even strapped on his own parachute yet. That would take time, which he was running short on already.

  He found her coming out of the plane’s small lavatory next to the cockpit. She’d dropped her chute on the floor just outside. She was a little green around the gills. The pallid blandness was not coming from the white lights above.

  “There you are,” he said, forcing calm into his voice.

  “I just can’t do it,” she said.

  “It’s gonna be all right.” He caught up to her and loosely wrapped his fingers around her bicep to turn her toward him. “Look at me.”

  She shook her head and kept looking away from him. “I can’t do this.”

  “Nonsense. You’ll do fine. I’m sure of it. I’ve never met someone in such great shape. If you can wear me down like you did in Mexico, you can handle this. Hell, you can handle anything.”

  “What if I panic?”

  “You’re not going to panic.”

  “I might.”

  He blinked and grabbed her by both elbows and centered her. He squatted just a little lower and stared into her eyes while the seconds they had left to jump ticked past. “You are not going to panic. If you can put up with hordes of zombies chasing after you, and a big idiot like me trying to blow us both straight to Hell, you can handle this.” He waited a beat. “Are you with me?”