Michael Vey 9, page 9
Finally I said, “We should pack.”
“Let’s get to it,” Johnson said.
We walked out to the garage. Jaime unlocked a double-bolted door at the back of the garage. Cibor turned on the lights, and we followed him inside. The room was a huge gun locker. There were all sorts of weapons—rifles, pistols, shotguns, and machine guns. On one side were boxes of land mines, grenades, and C4 explosives.
Our team consisted of seven of us—me, Ian, Ostin, McKenna, Cristiano, Zeus, and Nichelle.
Cibor gave us backpacks made of durable green-and-brown camouflage fabric. We also picked through a bin of camouflage clothing.
“We will need machetes,” Cristiano said. “The jungle is heavy.”
“How many?” Jaime asked.
“Two will be enough.”
Jaime handed two green-handled machetes to Cristiano.
“Gracias,” he said.
Cibor and Jaime oversaw the packing of the rest of the munitions, while I filled one of the packs with energy bars and water. The water made the pack too heavy.
“Is the water in the cave clean?” I asked.
“I have drunk the water,” Cristiano said. “I did not get sick.”
“Then we’ll just bring two bottles each,” I said. “Three for McKenna.”
“That will only last us one day,” Zeus said.
“If we’re not out of there in a day, we’ll have much bigger problems than thirst,” I said.
As Cibor and Ostin were going through each pack, Johnson put his hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, Michael, do you have a second?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s go back inside.”
I followed him back into the house to a vacant bedroom. Johnson’s expression was grave.
“I have a difficult but vital question for you. If faced with the opportunity, would you kill Jack?”
I didn’t answer but just looked into his eyes.
He lightly exhaled. “That’s what I was afraid of. You’re not sure. In times of violence, hesitancy is the surest way to get yourself killed. You need to make that decision now, before you’re faced with that reality. You wouldn’t bring down the copter with him on it, so I’m thinking you won’t.”
“If Jack fights us, we’ll fight back.”
Johnson’s expression remained grim. “That’s not good enough. That means you’re giving him the chance to strike first. That might be all the time he needs to kill you.”
I took a deep breath. “This is a demon’s decision.”
“It may be, but it’s yours to make. Let me make it easier for you. As you said earlier, you are loyal. To a fault. But, like Cristiano said, it can be a weakness. In this case, it’s also what is causing you to question what you should do with Jack. If it comes down to a choice between the Chasqui and Ostin, or Taylor, who would you choose?”
“I’d choose the latter.”
“Of course you would. That’s why you need to make that decision now. When you see Jack, you must strike first.”
“I’m not going to kill Jack without giving him a chance to come back.”
“That’s your call. Just remember that you’re risking your life and your friends’ lives. That’s the reality of war—kill or be killed.” He looked at me for a moment, then said, “I don’t want to see Jack die either. I came down here to save him. But he’s made a choice, so now you have to as well.” He breathed out heavily. “It’s not fair, but it’s what it is. Just think about it.”
“I will.”
“I know you’ll do the right thing.” He slapped me on the arm. “Let’s finish packing.”
We walked back out to the garage. We had filled the packs about as full as we could when Johnson said, “Michael, don’t forget this.”
He handed me a GPS tracker. “You’re going to need this. The jungle is as dangerous as the Chasqui.”
“I’ll give it to Ostin,” I said. “He can be our navigator.”
“And don’t forget this.” He brought out the black case my father had sent with us. The RADD. “Did your father show you how it works?”
“No.”
“I can show you.” Johnson opened the case, revealing the drone and several remotes.
“Hey, Ostin,” I shouted. “Come here.”
He walked over. “What’s up?”
“Johnson’s going to show us how the RADD works.”
“It looks simple.”
“Everything looks simple to you,” I said.
“It’s pretty basic,” Johnson said. “Have you ever flown a drone?”
“We both have,” I said.
“Good.” He took one of the remotes from the box. “So what’s different about these controls is this meter right here.” He held out a small black control that looked like a calculator with multiple screens. “When the drone detects a RESAT, you’ll hear a series of three short beeps. Then this blue diode here will light and stay on as long as the RESAT waves are detected.
“This first number reads how far away you are from the originating signal, no matter what power the RESAT is set to.”
“That’s in meters?” Ostin asked.
Johnson nodded. “It reads in meters.” He pointed to a round screen below, which looked like a radar screen. “This screen will show the distance and relation of the signal to the drone.”
“Just like a radar,” I said.
“Exactly like a radar. This second number is the level the RESAT is set at. This third number is your drone’s distance from the controller. Remember, the drone is measuring the signal’s distance from itself, so if the RESAT is a half mile away from the drone, and the drone is two miles from you, you’ll need to combine those distances.”
“How far away can it pick up a signal?” I asked.
“Up to a mile away. But the problem you’re facing is the cave. It’s going to obstruct the intensity of the waves.”
“How much?” Ostin asked.
“We don’t know, since the depth of the cave and the thickness of the cave walls vary. But remember, the main purpose of the RADD is to locate your friends. Where there are RESATs, there will be electrics.”
“What’s the flying range on the drone?” Ostin asked.
“Six miles.”
Johnson looked over at our backpacks on the ground. “Looks like they’re done here. You’d better get some rest. Morning will be here soon enough.”
As we walked back into the house, Cassy walked up to me. “Michael, could I talk to you for a minute?”
This was beginning to be a thing. “Of course.”
“In private?”
“Sure.”
She took my hand and led me into one of the empty rooms. She shut the door behind us.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Before you left, I just wanted to tell you to be careful.”
“Thank you. You be careful too.”
“Our situation isn’t as dangerous as yours. You’re going into the mouth of the devil. Literally.” She just looked into my eyes for a moment; then she leaned in and kissed me.
“Cassy…”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just figured it would be better to ask forgiveness than permission. I’ve just always wanted to do that. I want you to save Taylor. But…”
“But what?”
She hesitated for a moment, then said, “If something happens to one of us, I don’t want to regret not ever doing that.”
“I’m coming back. With Taylor.”
“I hope so,” she said.
“What about Jax?”
“Jax is a good man. But I’m still just getting to know him. You and me… we have history, you know?”
I nodded. “I know.”
“Good luck, Michael.” She started to turn to leave, then stopped. “And thank you for not getting mad at me for doing that. And please don’t tell Taylor. She already doesn’t trust me.”
“You know she can read minds.”
“Oh. I didn’t think about that.” She suddenly grinned. “Then don’t think about it.” She winked at me, then walked back to her room.
19 Splitting Up
Everyone got up the next morning before the sun. Again, I didn’t sleep well. Considering what was ahead, I guess that’s not surprising. It wasn’t the first time I wondered if it would be the last day of my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but death is pretty dramatic. And then there was the nightmare I had. It was about as pleasant as one of Taylor’s. I dreamed of Taylor and Tara in cages while Jack was hitting the bars with a sparking cattle prod and laughing. I got so fired up that my electricity burned the sheet I was on.
I pulled on my pants, then woke up Ostin, who, I swear, can sleep through anything. He was talking in his sleep about something I couldn’t understand, which wasn’t a whole lot different from when he was awake.
The ranch staff had made picarones for breakfast—a kind of Peruvian doughnut—and sliced mangoes with sweet cream. My stomach was unsettled, but I ate anyway. It was the last normal meal we would have for a while. I drank some Coke to settle my stomach, then got my backpack and carried it outside with everyone else.
Everyone met us as we gathered at the van. Cassy was holding Jax’s hand. She smiled at me, but it was a sad smile.
“Do we have everyone?” I asked. “Jaime, Ian, Ostin, McKenna, Cristiano, Zeus, Nichelle. All here.”
“Not everyone,” Quentin said. He walked up and hugged me. “I wish I were going with you.”
“Me too. But you’re where you need to be.”
“I know. I just hate splitting up the team.”
“It won’t be for long.”
He nodded. “Be safe, brother.”
“You too,” I said. “Save Arequipa.”
“You just bring everyone back.”
As Quentin walked away, Tessa came up to me.
“Last night I couldn’t stop thinking about the first time we met in the jungle.”
I smiled. “That was a ride.”
“If you see any Amacarra, tell them Hung fa says ‘Ni hau.’ ”
“I’ll be sure to do that.”
Her eyes welled up. She wiped a tear from her cheek, then said, “I told myself I wasn’t going to do that.”
“You’ve gotten sentimental on me?”
She grinned. “No. It’s just allergies.”
I grinned. “Right.”
“I know, I just hate goodbyes… and I just had this feeling….”
“What?”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I’ll tell you when we’re all back.” We hugged. While I was still holding her, she said into my ear, “Be safe, Michael. I don’t want a world without you in it.”
“I don’t want a world without you in it too,” I said.
As we parted, she wiped her eyes again, then stepped back. “Ciao.”
“Hasta luego,” I said. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Let’s go, amigo,” Cibor said. “We’re burning daylight.”
“I’m coming.” I glanced over at Cassy one more time. She was looking at me. She touched two fingers to her lips. I mouthed a goodbye, then got into the van.
“Let’s do this,” I said.
I was lost in thought as Cibor drove us through the still-quiet country streets into Puerto. As we neared the town, Jaime gave Cibor directions to his friend’s place of business.
“There is a big sign that says ‘Amazing Amazon River Tours.’ ”
“What’s your friend’s name?” I asked Jaime.
“Kale,” he said. “Like the leafy vegetable.”
“How much does he know about us?”
“He knows that we are enemies of the Elgen. I’ve known Kale for many years. He’s been running the river since he was a small boy. His father had one of his boats sunk by the Elgen when he went too far upriver to fish, so his hatred of them runs deep.”
“That’s kind of a pattern with these guys.”
“They’re not very good neighbors.”
“How much does he know about the Chasqui?”
“To him there is little difference between the Elgen and the Chasqui. But he knows that the Chasqui are drug smugglers. He keeps his distance.”
“What did you tell him about our mission?”
“He knows that he is taking me to the lodge. He has been ferrying foreigners there all week, so he has no reason to suspect anything. I told him I was bringing my American friends with me and asked him to take you a few kilometers downriver past the lodge. I told him you are from a university, and you are studying the plants and animals. As long as we do not get too close to the Starxource plant, he is fine. He will not go near the plant.”
“Can you blame him?”
“No. Not at all.”
20 Back Down the River
Puerto was awakening when we arrived, the morning twilight growing in brightness before the sun’s near appearance. At Jaime’s direction, Cibor pulled the van up next to a white stucco wall about thirty feet from a boat dock.
We climbed out of the van, then went to the back to grab our packs. Once we had everything, I walked up to Cibor at the driver’s window.
“We’re ready,” I said.
“All right,” Cibor said. “I’ll be off. Vaya con Dios.”
“You too,” I replied.
“Quede con Dios,” Jaime said behind me.
Cibor saluted, then pulled off into the now heavy traffic. I wondered if I would ever see him again.
“This way,” Jaime said.
We carried our packs to a thatch-roofed wooden shack with a hand-painted sign that read:
AMAZING AMAZON RIVER TOURS
Behind the shack, the powerful river moved slowly. The water was a light, muddy brown like weak cocoa. Tied to a wood-slat dock was a long, narrow wooden boat. It looked like it had seen many years of use. It had a faded vinyl canopy top that ran two-thirds of the boat’s length.
A short squat man, barely five feet tall, climbed out of the back of the boat and walked up the dock toward us, his arms extended. He had a large grin on his face. “Jaime, mi amigo.”
“Amigo!”
The men embraced.
“Ha sido demasiado tiempo, mi amigo. Otra emocionante aventura?”
“Espero que no.”
“Simplemente no vayas demasiado río arriba. Cuanto tiempo estarás?”
“No lo sabemos con seguridad. Hablaremos por radio cuando podamos. Recibiste comida para el almuerzo?”
“Sí. La tengo en la caja. Y la hielera tiene bebidas.”
“Gracias.”
“Podemos irnos de inmediato. Haz que tus amigos pongan tus cosas en la parte trasera del bote.”
“En este barco, aquí?”
“Sí.”
Jaime turned back to us. “This is the boat we will be going in. Put all your things inside. We will leave shortly.”
We carried our packs down the plank walkway to the dock, except for Zeus, who stayed on the road looking down at all the water. After we’d put our things in, I walked back up to the road.
“Does it still make you nervous being around the water?” I asked.
“Always,” he said. “Do you remember as a kid playing that the floor was lava?”
I smiled. “Yes.”
“Same thing. Except to me, it’s real.”
“I’ll carry your pack,” I said. Zeus and I got a gallon bottle filled with mango and passion fruit juice and some plastic cups from a street vendor and brought them down to the boat. We got in, then poured cups of the juice for everyone. The boat’s benches ran along the sides of the boat, so we’d laid our packs in the middle.
Kale loaded another bright red jerry can of gasoline on board, then started the motor. The smell of exhaust mixed with the gasoline fumes and the fresh smells of the jungle. Kale untied the rope holding us to the dock, then revved the outboard motor, pulling us out into the northeastern flow of the river. Within minutes the city was behind us as we sailed out into the jungle.
After we were alone, Kale turned on a cassette player with Peruvian folk music. It was almost tempting to believe that we were on a leisurely river cruise. I missed having Taylor next to me.
The boat moved quickly through the wakening jungle, the brown water splashing against the side of the boat, the cool air blowing through our hair. The steady sound of the outboard motor soothed my mind. I thought of the first time I went up this river to save my mother. I had hardened since then. I suppose we all had.
PART TEN
21 Planning to Kill Bats
After dropping Michael and the others off in Puerto Maldonado, Cibor returned to the hacienda to meet with Alpha Team and plan their attack on the Chasqui’s cargo of electrified bats. When he arrived, Johnson, Jacinta, Tessa, Quentin, Cassy, and Jax, were sitting outside the kitchen drinking coffee. There was a large highway map of southern Peru spread out across the table.
“The mighty chauffeur returns,” Johnson said as Cibor walked in.
“Thank you for that new title. Where are we?”
“Just waiting for you to get back to go over our plan. Gather in, everyone.”
Everyone congregated around the table.
“This is where we are,” Johnson said, drawing an X on the map. “From Puerto to Arequipa is roughly eight hundred thirty kilometers, that’s about five hundred miles for us Americans. Once they have loaded up from the river, they will travel along highway 30C for a hundred and seventy-eight kilometers until the highway forks in Puente Inambari.
“We could attack there, except the road before the fork is more traveled, which puts us at a greater risk of being seen and puts the civilian population at greater risk of collateral damage.
“There are two other reasons I think we should attack after the fork. The farther we are from Puerto, the less we need to worry about a counterattack from the Chasqui. The second factor is more human. The Chasqui truck drivers, like most travelers, will be much more alert at first, but after a few hours they’ll start getting more relaxed and less aware. That’s why I think we should attack after the fork. Any comments?”
“I concur,” Jax said. “We don’t want to fight the Chasqui again with only half our forces. It was overwhelming last time.”
