“So why isn’t he dead?”
Horus told him about the dead cougar’s blood and the cave behind the waterfall.
“Okay, then where did he go?”
Horus filled him in.
“So he’s in the lava tube and he’s armed.”
“Yes, and he has an earbud.”
“How did you get him an earbud?”
“Monica gave it to him.”
“Monica?”
“Yes,” Horus said and told the story.
“Ingenious. Horus, you’ve outdone yourself.”
“But there’s more.”
“Of course, there is. Tell me.”
So Horus told Issaack his plan.
“It’s good. As I said before, you’ve outdone yourself. I can see some places where people could get hurt, but only if everything goes completely astray. From what you have said, if we do what you want, I do not see that happening.”
“Well, I think you ought to tell Gerallt the plan. He might not be as willing to help if he knows it’s my plan. But if it comes from you….”
“I agree. But can it wait for morning?”
“Yes. But I need to get Siegfried started and tell the others.”
“Agreed. You do that and let me get my sleep.”
“Yes, Issaack.”
“Gerallt Cearrach.”
The voice was almost a whisper in his ear and he jumped up, rifle at the ready, and looked to his right. The emptiness of darkness beyond the light span of the torch was all that greeted his eyes.
“Gerallt Cearrach. This is Issaack Kincaid. I work with Horus.”
It was then that Gerallt relaxed and sat back down, the rifle once again across his knees. “Horus said you might contact me,” Gerallt said. “How loud do I need to talk so you can hear me?”
“You can whisper, and I should hear you or normal conversation voice. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Gerallt had whispered his question so he continued in that mode.
“Horus said you need my help.”
“Yes. But first, although you told him something about yourself and how you got here, please give me a better background – especially about why you want Esteves dead.”
Gerallt laughed. “Great Jesus, doesn’t everyone want that toom-fat (idiot) dead?”
“I know about four of us who do. But we’ll get to that later. Tell me about you.”
So Gerallt did, finishing “And that’s when I woke up in the cage about five hours before its door opened. I was stupid opening the door to the room. I knew – sensed there were people out in the hall. I have tried to reconstruct it and remember seeing forms, but it was so fast. I guess I didn’t care at that point. Now I want to live to actually kill that twil tin (arse hole).” He laughed and then said, “I wouldn’t mind meeting that young thing who gave me this ear piece either. She looked like a nice piece.”
Issaack laughed. “A little rough around the edges, but Monica’s a nice lady.”
“Monica? I admit that I have a different opinion of her than before. Based on her music and that one video I considered her to be a slebog (slut).”
“Yes, and she’s not a slut. She might come off as one in public performing but that’s all an act. I’ve been around her enough to know that inside she’s a decent person. She sings from the heart.”
“I admit she has a good voice, but her material sucks.”
“Admittedly, but let’s get away from that. And, by the way, I arranged to have that knife blade put in front of your cage, and Horus made the drone point to it. I would have left the entire knife, but it could have been traced back to its owner and then we would have been in trouble.”
“Understood and thanks. It saved my life when that puma attacked up on top of that rock hill.”
“Yes, that was fortunate. We call it ‘Prometheus’s Aerie.’ After finding out what was going on with it and the water, we figured it was getting ready to crack open anyway with centuries of water being thrust upward. You must have hurried the event.”
“Fortunate for me. Otherwise I think that beast would have had its way with me.”
Then Issaack gave him a brief background of the Bundle’s formation and the predator project.
“Who came up with this idea?
“I am not positive, but I am certain that it is one of the Bundle. Esteves certainly is a good candidate. With all the improvements we have put in here, he wants it as his headquarters. Probably even grow crops here.”
“But can he do that? It’s part of Brazil, isn’t it?”
“Officially yes, but we have a fairly ironclad ten-year lease. They can land here only with permission and as long as Esteves would keep his hands clean – at least as far as they know – they won’t bother him.”
“Yes, but could you call for help?”
“We intend to do that once we have them neutralized. I am afraid that our experiment has already been tainted what with several of the animals being killed by non-contestants.”
“I couldn’t help that,” Gerallt said. “Even if I understood what was going on, I would have done things the same. After all, in the contest that Esteves was running, I was a contestant.”
“Understood. But not to worry, you didn’t destroy it alone. The soldiers had a great deal to do with it.”
“Yes, now what about this armed force.”
“Well, we have a plan….” It was Horus’s really but Issaack didn’t feel right saying this without Gerallt knowing who or what Horus was. “… that will put us in command of Vulcan’s Roost – that’s the building in the crater and the crater itself for that matter. Then we can effectively disarm the opposition and bring in Brazilian forces to take control of them.”
“And Esteves?”
“Well, I am afraid that includes Esteves. But … we believe he will be taken off the playing field for the rest of his life.”
Gerallt was silent for a moment.
“That’s not my idea of a solution but I think that I am not in much of a position to offer a viable alternative. So what’s the plan? Specifically, what am I to do?”
So Issaack laid out the plan and Gerallt agreed.
“But if Esteves gets in my way …”
“If that happens, he’s all yours.”
“Agreed. Let’s get at it then.”
Chapter 29
Seven o’clock in the morning, Day 3 of the Deadliest Predator Contest and the theater was sparsely filled. Admittedly, there might not be much action during the day, but it’s what was happening.
“Where ez everyone?” Ramiro asked Issaack, who was sitting next to him and nodding off from being up half the night although he wouldn’t admit it.
“Sleeping in? How should I know?” answered Issaack. “They’re responsible adults. You want them here, get some action.” He waved at the screens which were basically displaying lethargic animals. Of course, the lion and tiger were involved in their continuing “love affair” and the black panther was sated from its kill during the night.
There were only four people in the theater: Ramiro, Issaack, Harvey Gladstone who was sitting in the back row asleep, and Waldo who was in the second row, leaning against the wall, and dozing.
“Ez not good. Importantly that we be watching,”
“When there’s action, there’ll be interest,” Waldo said without opening his eyes. Harvey Gladstone agreed with a small snort.
Suddenly the lion appeared on the big screen, ears up listening. The picture changed and showed the tiger opening her mouth and roaring. The lion started moving toward her.
Harvey was instantly awake.
“Oh good, another quickie,” he said. He was like one of Pavlov’s dogs. When the tiger roared that come-hither roar, two creatures answered: the lion and Harvey Gladstone. Everyone else (except maybe Ramiro) had tired of the sexual encounters after the first day. Because it was always the same.
“Maybe they’ll do it Missionary Position this time,” Gladstone said.
“Morning, all,” Siegfried said. “Oh, it’s pussy time again.”
He smiled at Waldo and winked and then walked past Ramiro and Issaack and sat down next to Issaack who had beaten Ramiro to the theater and had selected the second seat intentionally. As Waldo exited the room, he said over his shoulder, “Those French doughnuts are fattening, Siegfried.”
“Richtig,” Siegfried replied.
“What do he zay?” Ramiro asked Issaack.
“I don’t speak German,” Issaack said. “Ask him yourself.”
“What’z you zay to him?” Ramiro said, leaning forward to see past Issaack to Siegfried.
Siegfried waved, his left hand holding the beignet with a bit missing. Ramiro waiting impatiently while Siegfried chewed the piece of beignet savoring every morsel just to aggravate Ramiro.
“I said ‘Richtig’ which is German for ‘correct’ or ‘right.’ He said these beignets are fattening and I simply agreed.”
“Why didn’t you just zay ‘right’?”
“Because we were talking about French food. That’s another language, so I answered in third language.”
Ramiro sat back unsatisfied because he didn’t understand, but that was intended. If he didn’t understand then he was clueless about what was going on and that was the point. But Issaack understood and that was also intended.
Half an hour later, Monica walked in carrying a cup of tea and a beignet.
“Morning,” she said and started up the stairs to her usual seat.
“Zose French doughnutz are fattening, Monica,” Ramiro said winking at Issaack.
“Not for me,” Monica said as she sat down in the middle seat in the second row just behind Issaack.
“Why didn’t you zay ‘Richtit’?” Ramiro asked.
“What’s ‘Richtit’?”
“He meant ‘Richtig’,” Siegfried explained to Monica.
“What’s that?” Monica said.
“German for ‘right’ meaning that you understood that beignets are fattening.”
“Well, Señor,” Monica said to Ramiro. “First, I don’t think they’re fattening and second, I don’t speak Deutsch.”
“Iz not Dutch, iz German,” Ramiro said.
“I know,” Monica said. “‘Deutsch’ is German.”
Ramiro, who had half turned around when he started the conversation, now faced frontward with a look on his face saying that he was completely mystified. That was exactly what Waldo, Siegfried, Issaack and Monica wanted. “Keep him clueless” was Horus’s instruction and they certainly had started that way.
Twenty-three minutes later, Waldo came in with a half-eaten beignet in his right hand and latte in a cup in his left hand.
Ramiro looked at him as though he was going to say something and then didn’t. Waldo went up and took his usual seat in the second row between Monica and the wall and sat down just as the main screen changed to the caracal.
“He’s been watching a bird flit around for a couple of minutes,” Horus explained. “It might get interesting.”
“All right, some action,” Harvey Gladstone said.
As though on cue from Harvey, which it wasn’t, Siegfried got up and walked across the room.
“Hey, Siegfried, bring me one of zose French doughnuts when you come back,” Ramiro said.
The door closed behind Siegfried without him saying anything. Ramiro looked at Issaack as though questioning and Issaack shrugged as though to say “Don’t ask me.”
Thirty-four minutes later, Siegfried came back in with a beignet on a paper plate and handed it to Ramiro.
“It take zat long to make one of deze French doughnutz?” Ramiro said.
“I don’t know how long it takes, but you said to bring you one when I came back, and I did.”
Ramiro looked after Siegfried nonplused. Siegfried winked at Waldo who held his hand up in a high five manner. The plan was moving on.
On the main screen came up a shot of the two coyotes playing with each other.
“Sooner or later they’re going to get it on,” Harvey said. “That won’t be any slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am event.”
“Maybe we should start a pool,” Waldo said.
“You mean when will they do it?” Harvey Gladstone asked.
“No,” Waldo answered sarcastically, “Which one will be on top.”
Gladstone glared at Waldo and then burst into laughter.
“You mean we got a couple of gay coyotes. A butch female and a transvestite male.”
He was laughing so hard he almost fell off his seat. At this point in the day, the membership in the theater was changing almost on a regular schedule. It would be constant for a maximum of fifteen minutes before someone would leave or someone would enter. And so the morning went and when the theater started to clear out about noon Siegfried left once again, this time in the company of Monica talking about how adroit the caracal was in catching those birds in the rainforest, leaping almost six feet into the air to catch them. Between the two of them being in the theater that morning they had seen the caracal catch three birds, all blue and green, and all nabbed first with the left paw and then with the right. The views weren’t the same, one was from the right side and one was from the left front, the former having occurred twice. They had noticed that because they knew, and they needed to be certain that if anyone, especially Ramiro, Phil, or Harvey had questioned it, they could refute if needed. Only no one else was paying that much attention. Once they were out of the theater, they walked more into the center of the building before Monica continued on to her new room and Siegfried to the south toward the quad where Monica had lived in one of the four rooms before the invasion.
Chapter 30
Sebastián Martínez (Soldado 12) was bored with the food offered in the camp. It was standard military grub without any fruit. He believed that the rainforest must have fruit of some kind in it because there were hundreds of birds and green monkeys. If not fruit, then nuts of some kind. There had been no restrictions given about going into the rainforest – just that one is not permitted to shoot any of the predators. But it was daytime, and they would be sleeping. Certainly going just to the fringe of the forest wouldn’t be harmful. Therefore, he took his rifle and set out passing by the guard at the fence.
“Where are you going?” Pedro Sanchez (Soldado 29) asked.
“Rainforest,” Sebastián answered.
“There are predators there,” Pedro reminded him.
“I know but I am just looking for some fruit or nuts.”
Pedro shrugged not really caring and resumed patrol routine. Sebastián walked across the area between the encampment and the rainforest toward the upper portion where Diego’s parachute had been found and Thiago Garcia had been killed just yesterday morning. So much had happened yesterday and none of it good. He could hear the chatter of birds and monkeys but as he drew closer they stopped. He didn’t know whether they stopped because of him or something else. A small flight of birds left from someplace in front of him and resettled a short distance away. That could just be a monkey or maybe a snake, Sebastián thought. But best to be careful.
At the edge of the rainforest, he paused and removed his rifle from over his shoulder. Then he entered the rainforest cautiously, trying not to look down where Thiago’s body and possibly Diego’s had lain. He knew there were three predators left in the rainforest because the commander had kept them abreast of what was happening: the black panther, the brown bear and the caracal. All he knew of the caracal was that was a small cat, smaller than el Tigre who was gone, killed when it had fallen down the waterfall with the man who somehow, and no one had told them how or why, been involved in the crazy contest. The black bear shouldn’t be a problem nor should the caracal but the panther … definitely
a potential problem. As he moved deeper into the rainforest, his eyes searched the trees above for signs of fruit and the panther. He knew that the asia (Spanish name for Euterpe precatoria, a tall palm which has berries and is the most populous tree in Amazonian rainforests) might be in this forest but he wasn’t equipped to climb it. If he found one, he would come back with a friend who could climb such a tree.
Fortunately for Sebastián, the black panther was at the south end of the rainforest fast asleep in the boughs of a kapok. The brown bear was also asleep in a depression he had found at the base of a ceiba. The caracal was asleep too but not very far away. It was he who had frightened the birds away when he had climbed the tree and settled in for a nap. But there was another creature awake and moving around the rainforest this morning and that one was more dangerous than any of these predators.
Gerallt had come up through his strangler fig exit hole from the lava tube intent on making torches to have just in case. He had found a tree on the western edge of the rainforest that had slashes in its trunk indicating that someone – and it wasn’t an animal – was after the resin in the tree. At the base of the tree there was a small pile of an orange substance that looked similar to the resin on the torches he had found in the lava tube. Using his Ka-Bar, he cut a piece of the resin and then rolled it between his hands. In a few minutes it turned soft and pliable and he knew that he could mold it around a piece of wood. Nearby there were some dead branches from this tree or another and he used his knife to cut ten decent size pieces each about forty-five centimeters (eighteen inches) in length. Then he went back to the tree (which was a Brazilian copal tree) and sat on the ground and started making torches. He had five of them made from the resin before he ran out. So now it was time to tap the tree. Standing up he started making a cut in the tree using prior ones as an example.
Sebastián had moved carefully and quietly through the rainforest, seeing nothing that was useful. He was nearing the western edge of the rainforest when he heard a noise, more like a grunt. Weapon at the ready, he moved forward stealthily. He stopped when he could see movement ahead. He wasn’t certain what it was, but it appeared to be a man wearing camouflage clothing. He was about to call out to him, certain that it was one of his compadres, when he got hit in the back by a force that knocked him to the ground and his rifle went off because the fall had caused his hand to contract and the finger had pulled the trigger. He heard a snarl and the weight on his back was suddenly gone. He knew that he had been attacked by one of the predators and, adhering to the rules he had been given, he got up and ran back the way he had come.
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