Quest

Chapter 29

The world glowed like an alien landscape through Kennedy’s night vision goggles. He gripped his F88 AuSteyr combat rifle with M203 grenade launcher attachment, the same weapon with which the three agents had also been outfitted. He’d managed to get by without using it so far, slipping past the guards outside the tunnel while Wesley created a diversion, blowing up a few of the locals. He now crept forward, keeping to the jungle well away from the path that led toward the pyramid.

They all knew their roles. Kennedy and Smithson would take opposite sides and work their way silently through the jungle, moving toward the pyramid, where he was convinced the secret of this place lay. Wesley was to stick close to the path, keeping behind cover and making enough noise to draw defenders his way. If Kennedy had read Wesley correctly, it would not be long before he lost patience and barreled his way down the pathway like a bull in a china shop. For that reason, Brown was to back Wesley up and wait for orders.

“Wesley, don’t overdo it,” he whispered, his throat mic picking up his barely-audible voice.

“Roger,” came the disappointed voice in his earphone.

“Save your ammo. You’re going to need it.” The promise of carnage in the near future should satisfy the man.

“I’ve got targets coming my way,” Smithson whispered. “I think they’re moving toward the explosion.”

“Let them pass. Your job is to get to the pyramid as quickly as possible.”

Smithson acknowledged the order and went silent.

“Here they come.” It was Brown’s voice. “Wesley, you got a line on them?”

Wesley’s reply was a barrage of gunfire.

Kennedy grinned. If that didn’t draw the defenders down the path, nothing would. He set off at a quick pace, careful not to make too much noise, and to keep his eyes peeled for movement. Something burst through the brush in front of him and he raised his rifle.

A deer.

He smirked and kept moving. It would take more than that to get him to lose his cool and fire off a shot that would warn the enemy of his approach. Another sound, this of measured footfalls headed his way, and he ducked behind a tree. Through his night vision goggles, he spotted a figure moving toward him. The man was armed with a spear, and his head was turned in the direction of the road. He moved closer, still looking away, and Kennedy attacked.

Dropping his rifle, he struck the man hard in the temple. He staggered backward, his legs tangling in the underbrush. Kennedy kicked the spear from the man’s limp hand and leapt atop him, sliding his KA-BAR from its sheath and holding it to the fallen man’s throat.

His eyes went wide at the feel of the cold metal against his throat.

“Do you speak English?” Kennedy whispered.

“A little.” The accent was weird, but the words were easy to understand.

“What is the secret of this place? What’s your special power?”

“Do not know.” The man gasped as Kennedy pressed down, cutting into his flesh. “The tree, I think. The tree!”

“What tree? What’s so special about it?” Was the fellow trying to toy with him?

“Priests guard it. Is good tree.” His words were faint, punctuated by soft gasps. Kennedy hadn’t cut his windpipe, so the breathlessness came from fright. Good.

“What makes it good? Come on!”

“Don’t know words. Is good tree!” There was a pleading tone to the man’s voice, as if he were begging Kennedy to believe him. He was telling the truth, or at least what he believed to be the truth.

“How many of you are there? How many fighting men?” He needed to make this quick, before someone heard him and he lost his advantage.

“Don’t know.” Tears flowed freely down the man’s face. “Nine! Nine!”

“You’ve got a hell of a lot more men here than that,” Kennedy growled. Nine was probably the largest number for which he knew the English word.

“Nine!” The man screamed.

Kennedy cut off his words with a slash of his knife. He hoped he’d silenced the man before his cries alerted the other defenders. His information hadn’t been that helpful, but Kennedy would check out this tree, whatever it was.

The men no longer approached. After Wesley had picked off the first few who came his way, no more had charged in. He had seen movement in the alien green landscape painted by the night vision goggles, and taken a few shots, but he didn’t know if he had hit anything. He figured they must be waiting out there, hiding and watching for him to make a move.

But what if he was wrong?

What if they had figured out the ruse and backtracked toward the pyramid. It was Wesley’s job to keep them off Kennedy’s and Smithson’s backs. He picked out a spot where he’d seen movement earlier and fired off a grenade, turning his head away from the blinding flash of the explosion.

The sound was awesome. Better than the roar of the crowd at a metal concert. He heard a cry of pain, and knew he’d at least wounded one man. They had to realize he could keep on like this if they didn’t flush him out.

“Come out and play,” he whispered. Sure enough, something moved, coming his way. “Time for some target practice.”

The door to the room in which Bones and Willis were being held was unguarded. Some of the guards had run into the jungle to meet the threat, while others ran about in confusion. Someone was hammering on the inside of the door, voices calling for someone to let them out.

“It’s us!” Dane shouted.

“About freakin’ time!” Bones yelled back. “What’s going on out there?”

Dane unbarred the door, but didn’t have the key for the ancient iron lock. “Stand back!” he ordered. He blasted the lock with his M-16 and kicked the door open. “ScanoGen is here,” he said as the others hurried out. “Let’s get going.”

Bones and Willis, who was limping badly, reclaimed their weapons and each donned a backpack.

“Are we buggin’ out, or do we fight?” Even injured, Willis sounded ready for either option.

“We can’t leave these people unprotected,” Dane said. “All they have are bows and arrows.”

“Works for me.” Willis chambered a round in his Mossberg and grinned. “Who do I shoot first?”

“Maddock!” Kaylin’s voice rang out. He turned and spotted her and Thomas leading a group of women and children toward them. “We’re taking the children to the pyramid. They tell me there’s a safe room there.” She inclined her head toward two of the women, who nodded in agreement.

“That’s good. Willis, you go with them. Don’t argue!” Willis was about to protest, but Dane’s words stopped him short. “That leg is slowing you down. Besides, if ScanoGen breaks through, all they have to protect them is Kaylin and her .380.”

“Oh, yeah!” Matt pulled Kaylin’s pistol out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Reloads are in here,” he said, handing her a backpack.

“All right.” Willis scowled, clearly unhappy with his assignment, but he wasn’t one to let ego get in the way of doing the right thing. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near one hundred percent. “Let’s get going.”

“What do you want me to do?” Thomas’s face was white as a sheet.

“Help Willis,” Dane said. “Kaylin likes to take risks. Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

“Right, because she always listens to advice.” Thomas managed a faint smile, clearly relieved that he hadn’t been asked to take part in the fighting. “Good luck.” He offered his hand, and Dane shook it. “And thank you.” With that, he was off.

Dane found it odd that, in the midst of an attack, he was contemplating how he felt about shaking hands with Kaylin’s boyfriend. Shrugging off the distracting thought, he turned back to the others.

“I think these explosions are a diversion. They’ve been far away, and always in the same place. Whoever is firing grenades, or whatever they are, isn’t coming any closer. I believe they’re trying to draw the defenders down the path, and maneuver around them.” He turned to Tam. “I killed one of their men during the fighting down in the canyon. How many do you think they have left?”

“Five at the very most, and that’s if that idiot Cy is still alive. Last I saw of him, though, he was running like a debutante toward a surgeon’s convention.” She saw Dane’s confused look. “You know, husbands on the half-shell.”

Bones chuckled. “I like you.”

“Everybody likes me.” Tam gave a coquettish smile. “What’s the plan?”

“They’re going to have to come out of the jungle sometime. The four of us should spread out and take up defensive positions where we can get a good line of sight and maybe pick them off.”

“They have night vision goggles,” Tam said. “So stay out of sight. They’ll see you before you see them.”

“All right,” Dane said. “We’ll rendezvous at the pyramid if they get behind us.”

Tam looked at Bones. “Want to be killin’ buddies?”

“Don’t mind if I do. We’ll take the left flank.” The two of them disappeared into the darkness.

After a quick look around, Dane positioned Matt on top of one of the nearby stone buildings, and then headed off to guard the edge of the settlement opposite where Bones and Tam had set up.

A group of defenders, led by Hamilcar, rounded a building and froze when they caught sight of Dane. Hamilcar pointed at him and shouted something in his native tongue. His men looked at him in confusion.

“There’s no time to argue!” Dane shouted. “The men out there can see in the dark. They have special glasses.” With one finger, he drew circles around his eyes, wondering if he was making any sense at all. “If you run into the jungle, they’ll just shoot you.”

Hamilcar, to his credit, didn’t waste time on indecision. “What should my men do?”

“Bows and arrows are your best bet. We have to assume they are coming after the sacred tree. Hide your men all along the way, and shoot them if they come near. You have to stay hidden, though, because their rifles can shoot a lot farther than your bows.”

As if the emphasize the point, one of the Carthaginian men crumpled to the ground, his head ruined, just as the report of a rifle reached them. Dane hit the ground and rolled behind the relative safety of the closest hut. Another man fell and his companions scattered. Another report came from behind them as Matt returned fire.

“Get back to the tree!” Dane shouted, peering around the edge of the hut for a muzzle flash that would give away the attacker’s position.

Hamilcar barked an order and the men followed him back through the dwellings, toward the pyramid and their sacred tree.

The next shot buzzed high overhead, obviously aimed at Matt, and Dane saw only the faintest flash of muzzle fire. They must be using flash suppressors. He didn’t waste time, but immediately aimed a shot at the place where he’d seen the shot. Matt’s answering shot came a split-second later, and from a different spot on the roof. Dane rolled to his right before their attacker could return fire. No shot came, though. Obviously, the man was on the move. He would be a tough nut to crack.

“Next shot, you fire left, I’ll fire right!” Dane called out, hoping Matt was close enough to hear him.

“Gotcha!”

The night grew eerily silent as they waited for their unseen attacker to make his next move.

Smithson was running out of forest cover, and he had two shooters to dislodge. Maddock and his crew must have beaten them to Kephises. “Locals are retreating to the pyramid,” he whispered into his throat mic. “I’ve got two shooters in the village.”

“Can you slip around them?” Kennedy sounded unperturbed, as always.

“I’m going to try.”

“I want you to stay put for a minute,” Kennedy ordered. “Brown, do you copy?”

“Roger that.” Brown sounded equally calm.

“Change of plans,” Kennedy instructed. “I want you to swing around the right and come in hard. Blow the bastards to hell if you have to.”

“Roger that. Over.”

“Smithson,” Kennedy continued, “you wait for Brown’s attack, and then make your move.”

“Roger.” Smithson hoped Brown would be quick about it.

“What about me?” Wesley sounded like an eager kid on Christmas morning who was afraid he hadn’t gotten any presents.

“Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Wesley didn’t acknowledge. It was a good thing Kennedy didn’t insist on strict military decorum, or he’d have the man’s ass. Kennedy wasn’t one you messed around with. Smithson grinned. Maddock and his crew didn’t know what they were in for.