This Green Hell

TWENTY-EIGHT

Alex prowled the camp, stopping from time to time at the edge of the jungle to reach out with his senses, trying to get an impression of anything lurking and watching from behind the dark green curtain. His head throbbed with a dull pain as he pushed his awareness out as far as he could. He could feel something there, but, strangely, it was all around him rather than in one specific location. And it felt like González, but … He focused harder and got the sense of some kind of living essence, big and getting bigger, like a massive life form stirring or waking. He shook his head as the pain threatened to overwhelm him. There was too much life out there in the jungle to pull out individual details easily.

In less than an hour, he, Sam, Captain Garmadia and Aimee would track down the priest, and this time they wouldn’t underestimate him. Alex ached to get within reach of the killer of his HAWC. He had lost too many good men and women in battles above and below ground to let one be taken so cheaply.

He noticed that Maria’s laboratory light was still on, and drifted over to peer in the window. The CDC woman sat at her desk unmoving. Laid out before her were two syringes. Maybe she developed a vaccine after all, he thought. He looked again and thought, Perhaps not. Misery filled the room like a dark cloud.

He backed away from the window and saw a light come on in Aimee’s cabin. Before he got to the door, it was pulled open and a fully kitted Casey Franks stepped out. She had been sharing Aimee’s quarters so Aimee could change her bandages.

Boss, she managed to breathe.

The bandage at her throat was still a little discoloured, and purple bruising stretched from the base of one ear to the other. She looked as fit as ever though, her arms bulging with power, and her eyes carried a restless energy.

Alex nodded to her. ‘We’re going after the priest and the missing men. You’ll cover base camp until we return. Need anything?’

‘Sir, I’m fit for duty. I can …’ Her words were barely audible, and Alex knew they must have hurt.

‘Negative soldier. You will cover the camp as ordered.’ Alex held her gaze.

After a moment she nodded slowly and breathed out more words: ‘Just bring me his head.’

She lifted her clenched fist, her eyes burning with anger. Alex brought his own fist against hers; the armoured plating of their gloves clacked together.

Aimee’s hand alighted on Franks’s shoulder and the HAWC turned sideways to let her past.

‘Drink plenty of water in small sips,’ Aimee said, ‘and apply the antibiotic powder and change the bandage every four hours. You’re lucky, you heal quickly.’ She looked at Alex and raised her eyebrow. ‘Seems to be a HAWC trait.’

Casey rolled her eyes and mouthed, Yes, Mommy. Then, as Aimee stepped past her, she raised one hand flat against Aimee’s chest and looked her in the eye. Her face became very serious as she said, ‘Be careful.’

Aimee half-turned to show the gun butt sticking out of her back pocket. Franks dropped her hand, nodded and turned to Alex. You don’t deserve her, her look said.

I know. She’s a heartbreaker, thought Alex.

He caught a glimpse of Chaco and Saqueo huddled in the corner of Aimee’s cabin. Both were awake. Chaco rubbed his eyes while Saqueo gave Alex a thumbs-up.

Alex held up his hand to them. ‘You boys stay here, okay?’

They looked at him blankly.

‘Here, let me. Umm, quédense aquí, si?’ Aimee pointed at the ground for emphasis.

The boys looked at each other briefly and then nodded.

‘See, I told you I’d come in handy,’ she said with a grin.

‘You sure did tell me, many times.’ Alex checked his watch — fifteen minutes to go.

Alex studied the sketch of the priest in the journal. After a while he grunted. ‘Same name, same face — could be our man. But based on these dates, he should have been dead nearly 400 years ago.’

Sam shrugged. ‘If it was just the face and name, I’d say it was a coincidence. But his strength and speed, the way his head lay on his shoulder after you hit him … I’ve seen men with broken necks before, boss. He shoulda gone down — a normal man would have gone down.’

Alex remembered the unnervingly calm expression on the priest’s face while they’d fought. And then there was the thing in his mouth …

‘So what’s keeping him propped up?’ he asked.

‘That’s the multimillion-dollar question,’ Sam said with a shrug. ‘And what’s he doing with the men he’s taking?’

He snapped the book shut as Aimee approached.

Alex put his hand on the big man’s shoulder. ‘See if there’s anything else in there we can use. And let’s not share this info just yet.’ He indicated Aimee with a flick of his eyes.

Sam nodded and slid the journal over his shoulder into his harness backpack.

Captain Garmadia lit a cigar and exhaled blue smoke into the dawn air. Sunrise — if that’s what it could be called in a dense jungle — had provided them with a misty light for the last few minutes, but it would be several hours before the sun made its way above the canopy to give them any real daylight.

The rain had eased during the night, but the vegetation matting Tomás and his co-workers had laid down squelched under his feet. It was starting to feel more like a raft than a ground covering. For now it continued to do its job of keeping them above the mud, but in a day or so it would be overwhelmed.

Garmadia squinted at the photograph in his hand: a plump woman with a wide smile and large brown eyes. He kissed it and tucked it back in his pocket. He had decided in the night that, given the circumstances, his job had been completed. The disease seemed to have been contained, but the number of desertions meant there weren’t enough men to restart the rig. His recommendation to Colonel Lugo would be to relocate the campsite, send in another drilling team, and put Captain Hunter and his team on a plane home.

He would like to leave now, but it would take another day or so to assist in sewing up the last loose end — apprehending the man who called himself González. Garmadia didn’t believe for a second that the man was an actual priest; more likely he was directing the rebel activity in the area. After all, how does a man of the cloth learn to fight with such strength and speed, he wondered as he remembered the skirmish with the HAWC leader. These North American Special Forces soldiers obviously weren’t as good as they believed.

The Paraguayan officer watched the two big HAWCs and the North American woman discussing the map the woman held. He shook his head, his mouth turning down in disdain. Why did the North Americans always want to have a woman with them, even when they were heading into potential danger? Maybe the gringos couldn’t perform without an audience. He looked at Aimee from behind. Too skinny for his taste.

The small group seemed to have come to a decision. He sauntered over, and Alex Hunter nodded a greeting and made a space for him.

‘We’re going to head to the drill site then make a sweep back towards the camp,’ Hunter said. ‘Dr Weir believes the trouble with the priest might have originated in that area.’

Garmadia shrugged and drew the cigar from his mouth, blowing smoke towards the group. ‘Captain Hunter, I will accompany you on your search, but after today I will be heading back to my base. I think you will agree, there are not enough men here now to operate the machinery. I have spoken to Dr Vargis and she has told me there are no new outbreaks of the infection, and she believes there will be a solution to the disease within a day. There is nothing more for me to do but make a final report and depart.’

The two HAWCs and the woman stared at him for a moment, then Hunter turned away and spoke to Aimee.

‘He’s right — there’s not much more we can do here. We’ll stay on another couple days to find the priest, but getting you home would be the best thing right now.’

Aimee looked as though she was about to object, then changed her mind.

Garmadia grunted and turned away. Make the right decision, señors and señorita, because when I will leave I will be taking the truck with me. It will be a very long walk home without it.

The boys watched the small team head off into the jungle, the dark vegetation closing around them almost immediately. The woman HAWC with the bandage around her neck stood like stone in the centre of the camp watching them go. After a while, she reached up to feel her neck then headed towards the cabin where the other lady doctor always worked.

Chaco pulled on his grimy T-shirt. ‘I’m not staying here. That old woman doctor scares me even more than the Hawk-mano. I’m going to follow them.’

Saqueo pointed a threatening finger at his little brother’s chest. ‘No, you will stay here … Chaco, I warn you, do not open that door … Chaco, do not dare go outside … Chaco, wait for me!’

Saqueo pulled on his own shirt and followed his brother out into the warm dawn air.