Michael Vey 9, page 18
“Of course. You may sleep in the huts.”
“We first need to gather their weapons,” Jack said. “There is still a Chasqui group out there.”
“Yes. He speaks truth. Our warriors are watching them from the trees. They are going away from us. If they come back this way, we must be ready. But for now you will sleep safely under our watch. Then we will celebrate this great victory.”
PART EIGHTEEN
34 When the Hunters Become the Hunted
“Targets are six kilometers from the kill zone,” Jacinta said.
“We’re ready,” Johnson said. “Strikeforce One?”
“We’re ready,” Jax repeated. He put down his radio. “That’s about three and a half miles. We’re five minutes from assault. Ready, ladies?”
“Yes,” they said in unison. The mood had changed to extreme gravity as the reality of what was about to happen became more real.
“In five minutes, someone’s life is going to end, and they don’t even know it,” Cassy said.
“That happens every day,” Jax said. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to them,” Cassy said. “And to me. I’m about to end someone’s life.”
“Technically a million of them,” Jax said. “If you want to count the bats.” He looked over at her. “Does that bother you?”
“I would hope so. It doesn’t bother you?”
“Not when I keep my mission in context. These ‘lives’ are driving along as innocently as if they’re delivering bath rugs instead of a painful, terrifying death to tens of thousands of innocent people, destroying thousands of homes and lives and dreams. They have it coming.”
“I know,” Cassy said. “But it still bothers me.” She took a deep breath. Suddenly they heard the sound of approaching helicopters.
“What’s that?” Jax lifted his binoculars. “I’ve seen those. They’re Black Hawks.” He lowered the binoculars and looked back at the women. “They’re Chasqui.”
“They must be following the trucks,” Cassy said.
Jax lifted the binoculars again. Suddenly he shouted, “Get down. They’ve fired missiles.” He threw himself over Cassy to protect her.
Their radio squelched, “Strikeforce One, Strikeforce One, there are—” The message never finished. Two of the helicopters’ missiles were direct hits on the nest.
35 The Mission Must Go On
“Strikeforce One. Strikeforce One!” Johnson shouted. “Come in, Strikeforce One.”
“The Chasqui knew we were here,” Cibor said.
The radio buzzed; then Jacinta’s voice came over. “Strikeforce Two, target is in the kill zone.”
Johnson’s discipline kicked in. “It’s on us, team. Quentin, stop the first truck on my command. RPGs on target. Fire on my command. Cibor, prepare for detonation on my word.”
“Got it.”
The first truck careened around the corner into view. “Hold. Hold,” Johnson said.
The second truck came around the corner.
“Quentin, stop truck one.” The truck’s engine stopped, but it continued to coast.
“Fire on truck one,” Johnson shouted.
Both Johnson and Quentin fired direct hits. Johnson’s grenade hit behind the truck’s cab, exploding its gas tank, while Quentin’s hit square in the cargo box. The truck tore in half and exploded into a fireball, flipping sideways off the side of the road and flinging the dead bats out of the cargo container.
Strikeforce Two picked up their second RPGs and fired, destroying the second vehicle. Above them a helicopter swung its tail around so it was facing them.
“He’s spotted us,” Cibor said, shoving a missile into his RPG.
Johnson pointed his RPG heavenward and fired. The helicopter blew up like a firework.
“Nice shot,” Cibor said.
As Johnson was reloading his RPG, the third truck came speeding around the corner but was slowed by the scattered and burning wreckage of the second truck.
“Detonate!” Johnson shouted to Cibor.
“Roger,” Cibor said as he flipped two switches. The truck exploded along with a side of the mountain, burying the road in a landslide of rock, earth, and trees. Above them the second helicopter veered off, then headed back in the direction it had come from.
Johnson picked up his radio again. “Strikeforce One, Strikeforce One, please respond.”
There was nothing. Then Jacinta’s trembling voice came over the radio. “They are gone, David. The nest was hit. I think they are gone.”
36 The Ultimate Sacrifice
The highway was still burning with diesel fuel as Johnson, Cibor, and Quentin ran down the mountain and back up the road toward the Strikeforce One nest. They could see their van parked below and Jacinta climbing the mountain as well. There was no movement from the nest, and the trees around it were on fire.
Johnson was the first to reach the nest. His heart stopped at what he saw. Tessa had been thrown by the blast to the side of the nest. She was on her back, her eyes open. She was dead.
Jax’s lifeless body was draped over Cassy’s. His back was ripped open, and what could be seen of Cassy was spattered in blood.
When Quentin reached the nest, he screamed out, “Tessa.” He jumped into the nest, and to her side. “Tessa, Tessa,” he said, shaking her. There was nothing. Tears ran down his cheeks. He turned back to Cassy as Johnson pulled Jax’s body off her. Her eyes were closed, and she was lying in blood. Johnson knelt and pressed his fingers onto her neck over her carotid artery.
“She’s still alive.” He looked up. “We’ve got to get her to a hospital.”
“The only hospital is in Puerto,” Jacinta said.
“We’ve got to make it there.” He felt around her body for shrapnel, then lifted her in his arms. “Cibor, bring down our friends. I’ll need Quentin and Jacinta to help me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Johnson carried Cassy down the side of the hill. Jacinta opened the back van doors, climbed in, then rolled out a blanket on the floor. “Lay her here.”
Johnson laid her down. As Jacinta pulled her in, Quentin climbed into the back and pulled the doors shut. Jacinta grabbed the van’s first aid kit. Johnson hit the gas and pulled a U-turn in the road, throwing both Quentin and Jacinta off-balance.
“We need to stop the bleeding,” Jacinta said. “Her pant legs are soaked with blood. Raise her feet.”
Quentin found a backpack and put it under Cassy’s ankles.
“We need to take her clothes off,” Jacinta said.
Quentin undid Cassy’s shoes, then pulled down her pants, smearing blood down her legs as he did. Jacinta immediately pressed her hand against Cassy’s thigh.
“She is bleeding too much. She will need a tourniquet.”
Quentin looked around for a rope, then said, “We’ll use her pant legs.” He pulled out his knife, cut the left leg off, and handed it to Jacinta, who wrapped it around Cassy’s thigh, then twisted it. The bleeding above Cassy’s knee stopped.
“Hold that,” she said to Quentin. Quentin grabbed the knot she’d made.
“The Puerto hospital is almost three hours away,” Jacinta said. “We must keep her alive until then.”
Looking at all the cuts and burns on Cassy’s body, Quentin was glad that she was unconscious. He was also glad her eyes were closed. He could not get Tessa’s cold, frozen stare out of his mind. He took Cassy’s hand. “Don’t leave us, Cass. Please. Stay with us.”
He looked up at Jacinta, who was looking at him. “We should pray to Jesus,” she said.
Quentin nodded. “You pray. I don’t know how to.”
“Jesus, please let this brave young woman live. She just saved many, many lives. Please save hers. Amen.”
“Amen,” Quentin said.
“Amen,” Johnson said from the front.
Quentin squeezed Cassy’s hand as he looked out the front windshield at the landscape flying by. He knew Johnson couldn’t drive any faster. He just wished he could.
37 Racing for Her Life
Johnson looked over at the satellite phone next to him on the passenger seat. For more than twenty-four hours he had been waiting for a call from Jaime—a call that had never come—but now it was irrelevant. The moment of conflict had passed, and apart from his first call outside the lodge, Jaime hadn’t contacted them at all. For the first time, he doubted Jaime was even alive. Or Michael and the rest. Of the two missions they’d set out on, Johnson had considered his the safest. Though they had been successful—they had stopped the Chasqui from destroying Arequipa—it had also been a personal disaster. It had seemed, from the beginning, that the Chasqui had always been one step ahead of them. Could he even hope that the others were still alive? He had no idea that, at that very moment, Michael and his friends were walking into a Chasqui trap.
It occurred to him that he could have Jacinta call her friend at the lodge to find out what was going on, but that would have to wait. For now, he pushed all thoughts of the others out of his mind. Right now there was only one life he had any hope of saving.
It was nearly three in the afternoon when they reached the outskirts of Puerto Maldonado.
“How is she?” Johnson shouted to the back.
“She has lost much blood,” Jacinta said. “But she is still with us. It is a miracle.”
He handed the phone back. “Call the hospital. Tell them we’re almost there.”
She took the phone and dialed. “Aló? I have an emergency….”
Cassy’s skin was turning waxy. She began to shake.
“Stay with us,” Quentin said. “We’re close.”
Johnson drove the van up to the emergency entrance of the small hospital. In a larger city the Puerto Maldonado hospital would have been considered little more than a clinic, but it was the most equipped medical facility for hundreds of miles. A doctor and two technicians were waiting at the door as the van pulled in. They opened the back door of the van as Johnson jumped out of the cab.
“A su madre,” the doctor exclaimed. “Llévenla adentro.” The technicians pulled her body out onto a gurney. On the way to the intensive care unit, the doctor asked Jacinta in Spanish, “She is American?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her?”
“She was near an explosion.”
“What kind of explosion?”
“A boiler,” Jacinta said, making something up. “A metal boiler.”
The doctor glanced at her skeptically but said nothing.
“Get a transfusion on her,” he shouted as they entered the ICU.
“Her blood type is O positive,” Jacinta said. “I’m a nurse.”
“Then stay with us,” the doctor said.
An ER nurse cleaned Cassy’s arm and shoved a transfusion needle into it while another attached a bag of blood. A third put a blood pressure cuff on her other arm.
“She is very close,” the doctor said, looking at the readings. “She has lost a lot of blood.” The nurses began attaching electrodes to her body. The doctor looked at the monitor’s readings. “Blood pressure sixty over forty-two. She is in hypovolemic shock.”
Johnson and Quentin were standing outside the operating room looking in the window. The doctor glanced over at them, then back to Jacinta. “How long ago did this happen?”
“Three hours.”
“And she is still alive? Where did this happen?”
“Out in the country. South toward Arequipa.” Jacinta swallowed. “Is she going to live?”
“We hope,” he said. “You can go out now.”
“Thank you.”
Jacinta walked out of the ICU. Johnson and Quentin met her in the hallway.
“What did the doctor say?” Quentin asked.
“He says she’s lost a lot of blood.”
“We know that. Is she going to live?”
“He says we can hope.”
38 On Pins and Needles
The minutes passed like hours. Like a criminal waiting for the jury’s decision, the group both anticipated and feared the verdict. Hour after hour passed, which Quentin decided was good, as it meant that Cassy was hanging in there. Around midnight the doctor came out to talk to them. All three of them quickly stood.
“How is she?” Jacinta asked.
“She is still bleeding internally. She is not stable yet, but she is strong.”
“Thank goodness.”
“I am off shift now. I will be back tomorrow morning. Dr. Flores will be taking over for me. I have gone over everything with him. He is capable. I do not expect that anything will change much in the next few hours. You should maybe get some sleep.”
“We’re okay,” Quentin said.
“As you wish.” He turned and walked back down the hall.
“I’m hungry,” Quentin said.
“There are sandwiches in the van,” Jacinta said. “I will get them.”
“Here are the keys,” Johnson said. He looked down at his phone. “I need to call Cibor. And try Jaime again.”
Jacinta touched her hand to his shoulder, then walked out.
Johnson called Cibor first. “It’s me,” Cibor answered with a hoarse voice. “Is Cassy alive?”
“She is still alive,” Johnson said. “But not out of the woods. She’s in their ICU.” He paused. “How are you, soldier?”
“Soldiering,” he said.
“It’s okay, Cibor. We are all heartsick. Alpha Team started with seven of us. As far as we know, we are the last two.”
“Then Jaime is dead?”
“I don’t know. We still haven’t heard from him, but it’s not promising.”
“They could all be dead,” Cibor said.
“It’s possible. Where are you?”
“I’m at the hacienda. I have put… our friends in sheets. They are in a storage unit.”
“If you want to come to the hospital to be with us, it is your decision.”
“I would like to sleep a few hours,” he said. “If you don’t need me, I will come later.”
“Get some rest.”
“Good night, Johnson.”
“Good night.”
He hung up. Then he dialed Jaime’s phone for the fifth time, but still there was nothing. “Where are you, Jaime? Where are all of you?”
PART NINETEEN
39 Back at the Village
It was dark when I woke. Taylor was lying next to me on the mat. She was already awake, looking into my eyes.
“How long have you been up?” I asked.
“A little while.”
“What are you doing?”
“Looking at you.”
“What do you see?”
She smiled. “Something beautiful.” She sighed. “How do you think our friends are?”
“I’m sure they’re okay. Johnson’s smart. And there’s no way the Chasqui know where they are. We don’t even know where they are.”
“I hope you’re right.” She touched a finger to my lips. “I’m wondering why you haven’t gotten mad at me for surrendering to them.”
“You did what you thought you had to do. I did what I thought I had to do. Same spirit, right?”
Taylor grabbed my head and pulled me into her. “I love you.”
We had been kissing for a while when someone cleared their throat. I looked up to see Ostin standing in the doorway of the hut.
“Sorry,” he said. “Dinner is on, or, whatever they call it. They asked me to come tell you.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“What are we eating?” Taylor asked.
“Jungle buffet. They have a wild boar on a spit, a baked anaconda, and a bunch of fruit and stuff.”
“We’ll be right out,” I said.
“I’ll tell them not to start without you.” He went back out.
“Baked anaconda,” Taylor said. “That sounds tasty.”
“Snake is a delicacy in the jungle. The last time I was here, they fed me smashed grubs and bat guano.”
Taylor made a face. “I’ll stick to fruit.”
40 A Celebration of Heroes
Around the fire were large wooden platters with different meats, including the anaconda, which had been sliced up into six-inch sections like a giant hoagie. It was dark, and the chirping of jungle cicadas filled the air. The village was lit by torches. The Chasqui bodies and weapons were gone. I don’t know where the Amacarra took the Chasqui. Maybe somewhere the animals would find them.
The tribe and the rest of our group were gathered around a large fire. There were woven baskets filled with acai berries, bananas, mangoes, passion fruit, cupuaçu, avocados, and a few things I couldn’t identify. The chief stood as we approached.
“Welcome, Michael and Taylor,” he said with his arms extended. “Please sit next to me and eat.” We sat on the right side of the chief, next to Ostin and McKenna.
Taylor lifted a cake and took a bite. “These are good.”
“Do you want to know how they’re made?” Ostin asked.
Taylor looked at him warily. “I don’t know. Do I?”
“I’m guessing not,” McKenna said.
“But you’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?” Taylor said.
“I watched them prepare it,” Ostin said. “The women sat around a bowl chewing on yams until they were soft, and then they spit the yams back out into the bowl. They added some mustard and pepper, then formed them into little cakes and baked them.”
“I’m going to throw up,” Taylor said, taking the cake from her mouth. “Why did you have to tell me?”
“You said you liked it. I thought you’d like to know what you’re eating. If you don’t want it, I’ll have it.”
Taylor set the cake on the ground. Ostin picked it up and ate it.
“At least there’s this stuff,” she said. “It’s pretty good.” I looked at Ostin and shook my head. Taylor looked at me. “It’s not something weird, is it?”
