by Terry Mixon
The back was made of light metal and had a strange emblem centered on it. A tree of some kind with text in a circle around it. It shared some similarities with the Rainforest logo, but wasn’t enough like it to feel creepy.
There were several recessed buttons, but she restrained herself from pressing them. The power supply had to be dead, but she didn’t want to take any chances. She’d examine it more closely once she had it back in the lab.
It took her ten minutes to take multiple images of each page. The first third of the book only had text. The middle of the journal had a number of drawings as well. Some of plants that she wasn’t familiar with, but also what looked like contour maps of terrain. One whole page had what was certainly a rough map of the Mayan city.
There were sketches of men and women she assumed to be Mayan. Not just the well-to-do, but workmen building a wall. Women tending to plants in a terraced garden. Even children playing some kind of game. The man had a good hand.
A second map seemed to show a path away from the city. There were notations in the strange language that probably meant distances or landmarks. The end of the trail had a heavy circle around it. More text beside that might indicate what was there, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of the words.
Jess finished taking pictures, synced them, and put everything except her tablet back into the pack. She shouldered her bag and walked out of the tent. The woman was waiting. Another man was slowly turning, watching the jungle. The rest were gone.
“Is it safe out here in the open like this?” Jess asked. “If you think there are still some bad guys out there, maybe we should get under cover.”
The woman shook her head. “We’ve already cleared the general area. We’ll withdraw down the trail as soon as Harry is ready.”
He stepped out of another tent as she said that. He was dressed in dry fatigues, but still had his wet pack on his back. And his weapons, of course.
She walked over to him. “What’s your plan?”
“A couple of my people are looking to see if they can find any other bad guys, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. Once they get back, we’ll move toward the river and meet up with the workers. We’ll call for the police when we get to the river.”
Jess stepped closer to him and lowered her voice. “I took a few minutes to look over the artifacts. I found something you might want to see.” She handed him her tablet with the map of the area on the screen.
He looked at it closely. “What’s this?”
“A page from a book inside the satchel. I’m thinking it’s a journal. This is the Mayan city here. This path leads somewhere the dead man thought was important. The police will be all over this area. We should see what’s there before they accidentally destroy it. Or lead looters to it.”
He gave her a stern look. “In case you forgot, there are people in the jungle that want to kidnap you. I don’t think wandering around where they might get a second shot is the smartest thing to do.”
“I know it’s a risk, but this is important. Really important. Come on, surely even a man like you can see that the first extraterrestrial visitor and the things he brought with him need to be protected at all costs.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “A man like me, huh? Perhaps it would surprise you to know I don’t grunt when I walk or drag the backs of my hands on the ground. And we don’t know this guy came from outer space.”
Jess felt her face heat. “That wasn’t what I meant.” Actually, it had been exactly what she’d meant. It just wasn’t polite to rub his face in it.
“There was a tablet computer in the satchel. Where else would someone with something like that come from? Atlantis? No. Humanity would’ve found some trace of a terrestrial civilization that advanced. This person came from space. With the condition of the body, he might not have been human.”
Harry looked skeptical. “I’ve seen enough pictures of mummies to know that was a human being. An alien, even one that was bipedal, would almost certainly have some aspect of the face that was noticeably different. Unless, of course, you’d like to propose that humans were seeded all over the galaxy.”
“I’m keeping my options open. Think of this from another angle. The artifacts we’re recovering could lead to any number of breakthroughs. The technology would have to be very advanced.” She thought of another angle. “It might even have military applications.”
He shook his head slowly. “You really need to check your prejudices at the door, Miss Cook. I’m a warrior, not a warmonger. Perhaps you’re right, though. If there were weapons or technology that could lead to a weapon, I’d rather not see it make its way into the world. There’s already too much violence and killing for my taste.”
Harry spent a minute examining the map. “I think the best course of action is to accompany the workers to the river. We can call for help from there. Then we’ll set out for this place. If the scale is anything close to accurate, we might make it there by midday tomorrow. Maybe. What language are these comments in?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen anything like it, but I’m not a language expert.”
“Someone will figure it out. Come on. Let’s get moving.”
She watched him get his people into motion. They took down several of the tents and packed them. Probably so they’d have shelter overnight. That had her full approval.
While he organized things, she went back into the tent she’d come from and let the emotions she’d been holding back roll over her. Better to cry now than when she had an audience. Her friend was dead and that hurt. If she ever had an opportunity, the people behind Abel’s death would pay.
* * * * *
Harry had the team ready to roll in ten minutes, but stopped when Sandra held up her hand. “Is something wrong?”
“The client is pulling herself together. Give her a few more minutes.”
Not the time for it, but he could hardly blame her. He was sure the events of the day would give her nightmares for months.
He’d already cleaned and oiled his weapons, so he made one more pass around the camp. If they were going to be stuck in the jungle for a few days, he wanted to be sure that they had everything they needed.
They had enough water, but taking more would help if they had problems. The tents he’d commandeered would see them through until he arranged a pickup. The extra food and cooking utensils would make them a bit more comfortable.
When he had nothing else to do, he decided he owed his father a call. He reluctantly stepped away from the tents to get it over with.
“Harry,” his father said when he answered. “Did everything go as planned?”
“Nothing ever goes as planned, but this went a little further off script than usual. Nathan and his team beat us here. We managed to get Miss Cook away from him, but his people killed the archaeologist leading the dig. At least one of Nathan’s people died, as well. Both of them are buried under a collapsed pyramid.”
“That is unfortunate news, but it could have been much worse. Well done. What’s your extraction plan?”
Harry considered what he could say over an open line. Any unencrypted communication might have extra ears. “We’re getting the workers to the river, but we’re not evacuating with them. There are aspects of the situation that require our attention before we can get clear. We’ll be here at least one more night.”
The tone in his father’s voice expressed his disapproval. “Miss Cook’s safety is paramount. I’m certain that whatever issue you’re concerned with can wait until she’s safely away.”
“I disagree, as does she. I’m not able to go over the specifics over an unsecured line, so you’ll need to trust my professional judgment.” He smiled at defying his father. The small pleasures in life were the sweetest.
“In any case,” he continued, “I’ll call when we’re ready to evac. If you had a plane nearby and perhaps a helicopter capable of picking us up via cable from the jungle, that would make this go more quickly.”
“I’m not happy with this turn of events and I expect a full briefing once you’re clear. And, Harry? This better be more than just tweaking my nose or you’ll enjoy our next meeting even less than you usually do.”
The line went dead.
At least they understood one another. He cleared his throat outside the tent. “Miss Cook, it’s time to go.”
She came out, her eyes red, but her expression resolute. She shouldered her pack. “Ready.”
He gave her a sharp nod. Her steadiness was admirable. Most civilians, male or female, would’ve come to pieces under the strain of the last few hours. Jessica Cook was made of sterner stuff.
They hefted their borrowed gear and moved down the path at a steady pace. The workers were only about a mile away with Leann. He took the time to brief them on the general events and to break the news that their boss was dead.
The students took it hard, but he got them moving again in short order when he told them that some of the bad guys had probably gotten away. They made it to the river faster than he expected. No doubt, everyone was eager to be away from this place.
Harry called the Guatemalan National Civilian Police. He kept the details to a minimum and feigned a bad connection before terminating the call. All they needed to know was that there’d been an incident with a fatality. They’d come in enough force to get the workers to safety.
Next, he spoke with the young woman now in charge of the workers. “You need to keep word of the secret room under wraps,” he told her firmly. “The men that attacked you can’t know about it or you’ll all be in danger. You can’t tell the police about it, either. Does anyone else know?”
“About the art? Just the other graduate students. I can’t lie to the police.”
He hadn’t seen her standing there, but Miss Cook intervened. “Don’t lie. Just don’t mention it.”
Harry gave her a quelling glance. “Word will get out if you speak of it. Your boss found something unprecedented down there. Unless you want to see this whole area stripped bare, stick to the basics. These men attacked you, they killed your boss in the pyramid, and they blew it up. You don’t know why.”
“I don’t know why!” the woman almost shouted. “Those people almost killed us. Then you came in and saved us? Why? Who are you?”
Harry put on his least threatening expression. “We’re Miss Cook’s security team. Her boss should’ve sent us along with her, but there was a breakdown in communication. I’m certain that he’ll give the police a full statement about us and provide access for the police to question us.”
In a pig’s eye. The old man would shut them down quick.
Miss Cook took the woman by the shoulders. “Do you really want the police to think you might have had some part, no matter how small, in Doctor Valdez’s death? You’d be better off keeping quiet unless you like the idea of a few months in jail being questioned.”
The woman’s expression went from outrage to fearful.
Harry didn’t like the idea of lying to the woman, but they couldn’t tell her the truth. Miss Cook was surprisingly adept at managing the situation. She had hidden depths.
“Just keep things simple,” Harry said soothingly. “Tell them the truth, just not all of it.”
The woman nodded and walked over to her fellow graduate students. Time would tell if the scare kept them quiet.
“I’m a little surprised you told a whopper like that,” he said softly.
“I’d tell a bigger lie if it meant safeguarding this secret,” Miss Cook said. “I’m more concerned about what the prisoners will tell the police.”
He looked over at the bound men shuffling along under Rex’s guard. “They won’t say a word. I’m sure the penalty of ratting out Nathan and my mother would be fatal. There’s probably a financial sweetener to keep them quiet, too. And that reminds me, I need to send some money to the guy who was on the hook to pick us up. He still deserves to be paid.”
They made the rest of the trip to the river in relative peace. Once they arrived at the dock, Harry trussed the prisoners up like prized turkeys and hitched them to handy trees. No way they’d get loose without assistance.
Surprisingly, it only took an hour before Harry heard a boat on the water. It came around the bend and he recognized the uniform the men wore. The Guatemalan National Civilian Police had arrived.
He tugged on Jessica’s arm and the two of them backed into the lush vegetation. The rest of the team had spread out to keep watch for hostiles. They’d meet up at a predetermined rally point. Time to see what other secrets this jungle held.
Chapter Seven
Jess discovered that going through the jungle without a cleared path was significantly more difficult than walking down an open trail. Progress was slow and the insects were all over them. Time to give up that fantasy about exploring the wilds of Africa in a pith helmet.
The mosquitos were even move vicious in the deep jungle. The repellant seemed to be attracting them. She swatted them, but more came to take their place.
The mercenaries took turns hacking at the growth and politely declined her offers to assist. Instead, she followed Harry Rogers. She still knew virtually nothing about him, other than the rumors that she’d heard.
Those stories revolved around him and his father having a huge falling out when he was younger. Of him joining the US Army and becoming some kind of special operations officer. Him leaving the service to become a mercenary. Obviously, that last was true.
She still had no idea why someone that hated his father so deeply would get involved in rescuing her. It made no sense. Maybe she should ask.
“Hey,” she said.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You need a break?”
“No. Why did you come for me?”
He smiled. “Because you needed rescuing and my father is paying heavily for the operation.”
“You and he don’t get along so well.”
“That’s something of an understatement. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the client.”
“It seems like I’m missing something important. You’re a mercenary, right? Isn’t this kind of job a little off the beaten path for you?”
He looked around at the trackless jungle surrounding them. “We’re all a bit off the beaten path, but I get your meaning. No, I do this sort of thing for a living now. Rescuing people stuck in situations they have no way out of. We mainly recover kidnapped children held overseas by non-custodial parents.”
Jess blinked. That wasn’t what she’d expected at all. “So you’re not mercenaries?”
“That’s a matter of debate. Liberty SOG has people from the best US military units: SEALS, Delta Force, Marine Raiders, and others less well known. When the government decided to neuter the military, there were plenty of excellent candidates to choose from.
“We’ve done purely military operations, and honestly, we occasionally still do. But only if the moral reasons for doing so outweigh the trouble. Frankly, with all the problems in Europe, there’s plenty of business that we don’t need to hold our noses over.”
She understood that well enough. It used to be that only the Middle East had issues with violent groups espousing virulent forms of Islam. Now Western Europe was fighting a cancer in its body. It wasn’t politically correct to call them Islamic extremists, but honesty compelled her to say that was the right name.
The news organizations, with a few exceptions, and the government preferred to leave the religious part out. They said those people had nothing to do with Islam. That might even technically be true, but those people had no problem using Islam to justify terrible acts.
The European Union had opened their arms to an enormous number of refugees when the violence in the Middle East and Northern Africa spun out of control. War between Saudi Arabia and Iran quickly spread over the entire area around them.
Iran used nuclear weapons they weren’t supposed to have on their enemies. Armed with US made defenses, the Saudis and Israel fended them off. Isr
ael, of course, nuked Tehran and several other military strongholds inside Iran.
Others were less able to defend themselves and millions died.
That fractured Iran, but didn’t stop the violence. It only shoved it underground. Groups like Al Qaeda and ISIS now openly recruited from, and infiltrated into, any country they could. With the general collapse of most governments in the Middle East, they saw their chance to create a Caliphate. Saudi Arabia and Israel were islands in a violent sea.
It wasn’t looking so good for Europe, either. France was the worst off. Paris was more like Beirut these days. Roving gangs of militants kept the police penned into certain neighborhoods. Sharia law was the rule, not the exception. The French government was helpless and she suspected the militants would finalize their takeover before too much longer. How much longer until the rest of Europe caught the cancer, too?
The situation made her sad.
Frankly, she believed in the US government’s viewpoint. Profiling was wrong. People should be judged by what they did, who they were, not what they looked like. You couldn’t just label everyone of a specific ethnicity as something and rob them of their rights.
Only that open-mindedness hadn’t worked out so well. Thankfully, she didn’t have to fix the world. She’d be leaving it soon enough for Liberty Station.
Huh. His company had the same name as the project she headed. That couldn’t be a coincidence. His father must’ve been making some point.
“Why call your company Liberty SOG? What does that mean?”
“Liberty is part of what we do. It plays into every aspect of our work. SOG stands for special operations group. Technically, we’re a private military company. We have a number of teams spread out around the globe.”
They arrived at a clearing. It looked like the team was setting up the tents for the evening. Good. Her legs felt like rubber.
