“Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to him?”
“He was tortured for hours.” Mitchell’s wife, Jenny, answered, her voice cracking as she looked at the poor bastard.
“What did they want?”
“Nothing! They asked him nothing!” she cried. “It was all so pointless.” She threw her arms out. “All of this! So pointless! Why did any of this have to happen?”
“Greed.”
Acton’s answer was simple and probably the truth. That and strategic defense. Dawson knew from briefings that the Chinese, who controlled almost the entire market in rare earth elements were already beginning to hold back the sale of these elements to other countries so they could supply their rapidly expanding economy. Off the book supplies like these were of massive strategic importance and could give them the edge in the future should sanctions or other means be used to try and force them to sell their known supplies on the open market.
Supplies no one knew about? Those could be kept by the Chinese with none the wiser.
It made him wonder how many of these mines might be scattered across the globe, the Chinese never known for caring about environmental laws.
They build a coal fired power plant every two weeks and the environmentalists criticize America?
“What’s the status, Sergeant Major?”
Dawson turned to Reading. “All the Chinese troops are dead, half a dozen Venezuelan regulars captured along with a support staff of about a dozen—cooks and the like. Another few dozen workers. We’re holding them in one of the cages they were keeping the natives in except for the support staff. They’re cooking food right now for everyone.”
“Good, I’m starving,” replied Mitchell from the chair he was sitting in. “Getting fried with a car battery works up an appetite, I guess.”
Jenny smiled, squeezing his shoulders.
“And the natives?” asked Laura.
“Most are fleeing into the jungle, but a few aren’t leaving. We’re not sure why, but they’re the ones we can’t communicate with. The others we were able to communicate with through translators, some having members that could speak Spanish. But this remaining group, about twenty, don’t speak Spanish or Portuguese, and they seem terrified.”
“They’re probably one of the uncontacted tribes. Perhaps James and I should go see what we can do.”
Dawson nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me. We’re going to hole up here the night then head out at first light after we destroy this place.”
“Can you?” asked Acton.
“Absolutely. We found a large store of dynamite for the mine, plus we’ve got lots of C4 and detonators.”
“And the prisoners?”
“We’ll leave them in their cage with provisions, then notify the authorities after we cross the border.” He looked at the other civilians milling around. “Are you the PAN environmentalists?”
One nodded. “John Tinmouth. Thanks for coming.”
“You’re welcome.” He pointed to a bunch of camera and video equipment sitting on a table. “Is that your stuff?”
Tinmouth nodded. “Yeah, they confiscated it when they captured us.”
“Then I suggest you get outside and document as much of what you can now. There might not be time in the morning, and most of the natives are gone.”
Tinmouth’s eyes opened slightly wider. “My God, I’d forgotten why we were here!” He paused. “Is it safe outside?”
“Yes. Just stick within sight of my men. And make sure none of them get on tape.”
Tinmouth and two of the others geared up and left, one remaining behind with the tortured man.
“I’ll have Niner come in and give him a look. Might not be much we can do for him now, but we can at least give him some painkillers.”
“Yeah man, painkillers,” whispered the man with a smile on his face, his thumb in the air.
Acton turned to Dawson. “Sergeant Major?”
“Yes.”
“What do we do with the natives that won’t leave?”
Dawson sighed.
“That’s the elephant in the room, isn’t it?”
TikTik fed Mother who seemed to be coming around from the shock of everything now that the prison they were in had been opened, and their new jailors seemed much friendlier. The Panther People—the new ones—had removed much of their coverings to reveal that they were human, like her, but not like her.
They’re so pale!
They all looked quite ill to her, but they were friendly though their smiles sometimes turned challenging, though when they did, they never seemed angry. She wondered if perhaps they just smiled differently than her people.
And they weren’t all pale. One was as dark as the ground she stood on, another with strange eyes had the same color skin as her almost. It was all very confusing.
Everyone was gone except her people. Their small group of about twenty had been isolated from the beginning. No one spoke their language and the new jailors couldn’t seem to communicate with them either. They had been too terrified to leave without permission, and after a quick discussion no one really knew what to do, so the decision had been made to stay and placate their new captors until it was clear what was going on.
One thing that was good about their new captors was none appeared intoxicated. In the short time she had been here she had seen some of the men enter the cage and take women away, raping them all night, returning them broken in body and spirit, only to force them to work in the stone pit the next morning.
She had always kept her face hidden, for she knew she was pretty and didn’t want to attract any attention.
But now for some reason she felt safe. She knew their old captors were evil and these new ones had killed most of them, those that remained now in another spider web prison nearby, quiet, sullen, defeated.
With their prisons closed, men with the strange spears guarding them.
She gave Mother her last spoonful then quickly finished her own meal, not sure when they would eat again. Curling up on her bed beside Mother, she closed her eyes, her thoughts turning to Tuk, wondering if he were still alive somewhere, thinking of her.
“So what do you think?”
Dawson surveyed the natives just settling down for the night, Leather at his side. “I’m not sure. We can’t waste time in the morning trying to convince them to go. We need to evac ASAP before more hostiles arrive. Something tells me the Chinese know they’ve lost their mine.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The civilians were mentioning the leader seemed to be a guy called Dr. Chen. We haven’t found him or his body. Nor have we found the torturer, Ling. I’m guessing some sort of escape tunnel.”
Leather’s eyebrows climbed slightly. “Interesting. We should find that. Might prove handy.”
“Might also be a weakness if new arrivals know about it. I’m thinking we blow it in the morning. I’ve got some men looking for it now.”
“You’re probably right. I sent one of my men with a vehicle to the river to supplement our lookout. They should be able to provide us with some warning should anyone attempt to land.”
“Good thinking.” Dawson turned back to the two dozen natives. “What are we going to do with you?”
TikTik’s Village, Northern Amazon, Venezuela
“Tuk! Thank the Mother you are alive!”
TikTik’s mother rushed toward him as he entered the village with Kinti and some of the warriors. He hugged her tight, the familiar sight of the woman who would keep him and TikTik apart still welcome. “The village was attacked by the Panther People,” he explained.
“Some of our men went to the village yesterday and found it empty.”
“No bodies?”
“No.”
“Not even Bruk’s?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why? What do you know? What happened?”
“I saw them drag Bruk’s body into the village, and—” His voice cracked, tears filling his eyes and she knew without hi
m saying what had happened.
“TikTik?” she whispered, her hand over her mouth.
He nodded, his head dropping to his chest. “I saw them kill her too.”
TikTik’s father arrived just as the words were uttered and the proud warrior’s shoulders slumped as all life seemed to drain from his face. He said nothing as he held his sobbing wife and led her away. The villagers gathered to hear the story repeated, then some began to get nervous as more and more warriors began to ring the village.
“Who are all these people?” asked one of the elders.
“They are warriors from many tribes who are following me into battle. We are going to fight the Panther People, and take our people back!” announced Tuk with pride, his chest swelling as jaws dropped in shock.
“They’re following you? You who can barely hold a spear?”
Tuk was suddenly thankful only Kinti was able to speak his language, and she stepped forward and gave a speech almost as rousing as Skip had earlier, the warriors surrounding the village thick now, and when she was done, she turned to the gathered crowd, and in the language of her village, shouted, “And we follow Tuk into battle!”
“Tuk! Tuk! Tuk!” erupted as a thousand voices chanted his name from every direction. His arms sprouted goose bumps as pride with a hint of embarrassment surged through his being, and as TikTik’s villagers looked on in awe, some still getting Kinti’s story translated as not all spoke Tuk’s language, some of them couldn’t help but be overwhelmed, joining in the chanting, some rushing to their lodges to get their weapons.
Tuk held up his hands, quieting the crowd, smiling. He turned to the elder. “Honored Elder, we ask nothing of you except permission to rest in the forest for the night. At dawn we will go to my village then track the Panther People to their lair, where we will crush them and free our people.”
The elder, overwhelmed, nodded. “You are our honored guests.” Kinti translated and a cheer rang out from the weary warriors who had been running all day. “We cannot provide for so many, but the Mother can, and they are welcome to partake of Her bounty.”
Tuk grasped the man’s wrists. “Thank you, Elder.”
He let go and turned to the mass. “We will rest here tonight. Eat and drink whatever the Mother provides, and get your rest. For tomorrow, we fight!”
Rio Negro Landing, Northern Amazon, Venezuela
Potts woke to find Donny, his relief, shaking him by the shoulder. “Wake up, mate, we’ve got company!” A shot of adrenaline surged through his system making him immediately alert as he quickly checked himself, readying his weapon as he looked in the direction Donny was pointing.
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed as he spotted several large transport boats coming their way, another coming around the bend. “These guys are serious. What’s the count?”
“Looks like about a platoon on each and there’s three, four—no, make that five of them. Each with a transport vehicle.”
“Christ, radio it in, I’ll get the vehicle started.”
“Charlie One, Charlie Lookout, come in, over.”
Potts scrambled up the embankment toward the road, jumping into the old Toyota truck and turning the key that had been left in the ignition. The engine roared to life as Donny jumped in the passenger side.
“I can’t reach base! Nothing but static!”
“They must be jamming us!” Potts put the vehicle in gear, pulling away as quietly as he could, slowly building speed so their engine wouldn’t be heard and dust wouldn’t be kicked up that might be spotted from the river. A gentle rain overnight was helping as the ground was still damp, and soon he was able to hit about 30 mph before it became too rough to go any faster. He tried his comm and found it too was jammed. “We’ll just have to deliver the message personally.”
Two men stepped out of the trees, handguns raised, opening fire. Potts swerved toward them rather than away, causing them both to dive to the ground. As Potts gunned it, the gunfire continued and Donny cried out, grabbing his shoulder as the distance between the shooters increased. Soon out of range, Potts sat back up, slowing down to smooth out the ride. He looked at Donny. “Are you okay?”
Donny held his shoulder, looking at it, and nodded. “Lucky ricochet, I think. Just a deep scratch.”
“Do you need me to stop and patch you up or are you going to survive until we reach the mine?”
“Just fowkin’ drive! If we stop I’m dead anyway!”
Potts nodded, continuing forward, the rearview mirror showing their attackers as mere specs now. Suddenly a light came on in the dash and he cursed, the fuel light on. He looked at the gauge and the needle was quickly bottoming out.
“They must have hit the fuel tank. We’re about to run out!”
Donny grimaced. “Well, this is just turning out to be a bloody wonderful day!”
Tuk’s Village, Northern Amazon, Venezuela
Kinti held Tuk’s hand, trying to comfort the poor man as he surveyed the sight in front of them. His village had been levelled, every building, every structure, destroyed, shredded by some type of beast, the logs barely recognizable. Tracks of the beast that Tuk had described were everywhere, strange, not spaced out paw marks like most animals, but continuous lines, almost like a slithering snake.
It was pure evil, whatever it was.
And the elder was right. There were no bodies to be seen. It was as if someone had wanted to wipe the village from existence. Not finding Bruk’s or TikTik’s bodies was concerning though. It meant that the others might be dead too, the bodies simply vanished by some magic possessed by the Panther People, or perhaps simply taken with them as food for their beast.
“Be strong,” she said as she noticed his eyes fill with tears. “The others are scared with what they see. You must be strong for them.”
Tuk nodded, quickly blinking back the tears.
“Let it turn to anger. Look what they did to the Mother’s people, to Her precious bounty. Let it turn to anger and share that anger with the warriors.”
She felt Tuk’s grip on her hand tighten, then his head shot backward and a roar erupted from him the likes of which she never would have believed him possible. It sent shivers down her spine as he let go of her hand, his becoming fists as he dropped his head back down, glaring at the sights around him.
“Look what these evil beasts have done to my home!” he shouted, Kinti quickly translating to the gathered throng. “Look what they have done to the Mother’s people! Look what they have done to the Mother’s bounty!” Tuk slowly turned, his arms outstretched as he spoke. “This is the destructive power we are facing. A power unlike anything we have ever seen, but I know they can be killed. I have seen it with my own eyes, as have the Barasana people. We saw them killed by the Spirit People with their strange weapons, but we, people like you and I, killed them as well. With nothing more than this!” He shoved his spear high into the air as the warriors roared, their bravado returning. “Today we will find these Panther People and destroy them once and for all, so they can no longer harm the bounty of the great Mother, and they no longer haunt the dreams of our children!”
Kinti shouted the last of the translation, others translating her words, but it was clear the message had been delivered even if most hadn’t heard it. The warriors were enraged, whipped into a frenzy ready to battle anything that might be found ahead.
Then Tuk, raising his spear, rushed into the forest, in the direction the beast had clearly laid out for them, its path of destruction self-defeating as they sprinted, unhindered by the jungle.
Illegal Rare Earth Element Strip Mine, Northern Amazon, Venezuela
“Fire in the hole!”
Dawson ducked, turning away from the pit as Niner hit the detonator. A series of massive explosions ripped down the first few hundred feet of the road carved in the side of the steep rock wall, and as Dawson held his breath, a wall of dust rolling past him, he headed toward the edge to see Niner’s handiwork.
A stiff breeze cleared the dust a
way from the surface fairly quickly, but inside the pit was another story. It would take a long while for the dust to settle there, but already it was clear a large portion of the far side of the pit had collapsed, taking the road with it.
“Good work!” he yelled, giving a thumbs up.
“That should set them back a few weeks,” agreed Red, approaching from the runway. He held his hands up to his mouth. “Clear the area!” He pointed toward a vehicle approaching, Mickey at the wheel, dragging the netting that had covered the runway behind it. The plane had been disabled earlier, the flimsy hangar knocked down with a shove from the massive Atlas, and now the final piece of camouflage from this makeshift airport was about to disappear.
Mickey stepped out just at the edge of the pit then stepped over to the passenger side, opposite the hook dragging the netting, and pushed the vehicle the few feet it needed to teeter over the edge, then momentum and gravity took over as Mickey raced away, the massive netting gaining speed as the vehicle dropped to the pit floor, the final couple hundred feet whipping by fast enough to tear someone’s arm off.
Dawson was pleased with the speed at which things were progressing. Everyone had been up before dawn, all had been fed and the prisoners locked in their cage with extra provisions. The school bus had been brought around and was ready for their evac to the river as soon as they were done, which should be within the next few minutes.
“Ready for the pit netting!” announced Niner, waving the detonator.
Dawson activated his comm. “Confirm everyone is out from under the netting or inside a building or cage. Charlie Team check the civilians, Bravo Team sound off by the numbers, over.”
Confirmations quickly came through as he, along with Mickey, headed into the main complex, Niner inside the cage with the natives, its chain link cover hopefully all the protection they’d need. He could see from his vantage point that the professors had all the natives at the far edge, where the danger was lowest, and all huddled under mattresses. And he could tell from here they were terrified.
Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) Page 25
