Special Investigations Agency: Primordial

by Denise A. Agnew

  Hurrying down the wide staircase, she reached the bottom and then wended her way to the left. She should be able to find a back door to this place. When she located a doorway leading into a large solarium, she smiled at her good luck. With a sense for adventure, she strolled into the room. The glass St. Paul’s cathedral-like dome roof allowed hot sun to pour over the various lounge chairs and the steaming hot tub in the middle. Hot tub? Who in their right mind would want to hot tub in heat like this?

  A vision of Zane, wet and naked, popped into her mind. She visualized him in this hot tub or the one in their room. Her mouth watered. God, thinking about Zane naked could drive any woman with hormones into a critical meltdown. It didn’t concern her libido that she didn’t like Zane that much.

  That’s right. I don’t like him at all.

  Closed French doors at the opposite end opened onto the patio where the huge pool resided. She strode outside and drew in a breath of thick, hot air. Pungent flower scents hit her, as well as an earthy odor she associated with damp soil.

  She wandered toward the pool. Sea green tile surrounded the water, adding to the welcoming appeal of shimmering liquid. Maybe she’d take a dip later.

  Lounge chairs dotted the perimeter close to the surrounding jungle. Huge fronds reached from the encroaching vegetation, banyan trees strained for the heavens and sunlight. The canopy echoed with a million sounds, many familiar and some not so familiar. While the rainforest drew close in some areas of this vast building, a small fissure through the foliage gave a breathtaking view she didn’t expect.

  San Cristobal and surrounding mountains rose high in the distance, ringed by a strange fog. Dozens of huge waterfalls cascaded from the plateau, the rushing, pounding sound of their power almost discernable. Now she understood why Haan had chosen this spot for the pool. He enjoyed the lush beauty, perhaps, as much as the next human. Even if he was a poisonous snake upon this beautiful land.

  She glanced at the plateau again and wondered what mysteries lay hidden there. What had Haan found in the jungle when he’d ventured to the plateau?

  Again the ring felt heavy, dragging her down. As she brought her left hand up and gazed at the cloudy stone, she experienced a strange stirring inside, an odd desire to move forward, to walk toward the depths of the jungle and step within.

  As if two people invaded her body, she felt duel sets of emotions. One part of her rebelled against the ridiculous idea of walking into the unknown and danger she couldn’t predict. The other part of Keira demanded she go forth. One foot stepped ahead against her will and she gasped as a sick feeling entered her stomach.

  Oh my God. What’s happening?

  Like a puppet she marched with slow deliberation toward the jungle.

  Chapter Seven

  Zane entered the bedroom after his quick recon of the house. He’d needed to walk to cool his jets. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with Keira without wanting to rip her clothes off and fuck her into the next century. Yes, he’d been angry, but he’d also wanted her spread out under him with his cock sinking hard and deep to her center. He wanted to feel her pussy clutching around him, milking him dry as she came and came and came.

  Face it. The woman makes you hot.

  Hornier than a bull elk and perhaps as rampant. When she’d stepped into the bathroom and watched him shower through the opaque glass, he’d almost grown a raging hard-on that begged for a finish. Next time she did that she might get more than she bargained for. He shook his head to clear it. He needed to concentrate on their true mission—getting La Pasion away from Haan.

  Haan had bodyguards but they stayed out of Zane’s way, nodding to him as he passed by and not acting the least concerned. Most of them looked like the limo driver, no-neck assholes with permanent scowls and watchful eyes. They didn’t consider him an immediate threat, he knew. And he wasn’t. At least not for the moment.

  “I’m home, honey,” Zane said in a cheerful, mocking voice as he closed the door to the bedroom.

  Silence greeted him.

  Surprised, he checked the bathroom. No sign of her.

  She’d probably gone looking for him, and he didn’t want her wandering this house alone. With Haan salivating over her, Zane didn’t feel comfortable. He knew the strange ring Haan gave Keira amounted to a come-on. From the bizarre photographs of strange temple glyphs on Haan’s den walls, Zane deduced that the man liked kinky sex. Not that Zane cared what Haan put on his walls, but he did care a hell of a lot about how the man looked at Keira.

  Suspicion made Zane pause in the middle of the room. Could she be meeting with Haan now to conclude unfinished business? Did she have a relationship with the older man?

  Relationship his ass. Haan didn’t have relationships, he had dominations. Just as the man’s four—count ‘em, four—ex-wives. The first two ended up in asylums for the mentally ill. The third got smart early and left Haan after a week of marriage. The fourth and final match disappeared into the jungle outside the house without a trace ever being found.

  A strange apprehension rose up inside Zane. Something was not right.

  He hurried downstairs and through the solarium area to the pool. When he stepped out of the house, he gazed into the rainforest with all senses alert. He took a deep breath and let it out, attuning to his surroundings and relaxing.

  Huge dragonflies danced among an immense tree as it rose more than twenty stories in the air, the drop, drop of water as it fell from the leaves a loud plopping noise. Puffs of mist rose above the San Cristobal Plateau. At the water in the distance a gray tiger heron strode along the bank and a white-faced monkey screeched angrily in the distance. He watched leaf cutter ants scurry across a branch near the ground, intent on their business.

  Fear started a slow, insidious ripple through him as he found no sign or sound indicating Keira’s whereabouts. “Keira!”

  No answer.

  He tried several times, calling her name into the wilderness and incurring the wrathful wail of howler monkeys and cackles of birds. He returned to the house and checked all the lower floor rooms.

  “Fuck,” he said as he hurried to find Haan and get some equipment for search and rescue.

  He ran through the lower floor of the house, meeting no one in the desolation of chrome and glass mixed with wood and wicker. When he reached the area outside Haan’s den, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath. He needed to remain calm, even though his heart banged in his chest and adrenaline streaked through him.

  Despite his calm, he forgot to knock and walked right into the room. A hand flashed out and grabbed him by the neck, swung him around and slammed him against hard wood.

  * * * * *

  Keira came out of the fog in her mind astonished, dazed and confused. “Where am I?”

  Only incessant jungle noises answered. All around the racket seemed louder, more fearsome than when she’d left the house. She stood not far from the edge of the shimmering lake she’d seen from a distance while at the pool.

  Fear snapped inside her like a pistol shot, painful and sharp. She gazed at her surroundings as trepidation snaked through her, a menacing boa constrictor around her lungs.

  I can’t remember. How did I get here?

  Instinct told her to stay silent when she felt like shouting for help. In wonder and fear she took in her surroundings, a perilous mixture of paradise and menace.

  The mists she’d seen floating high along San Cristobal Plateau’s ridges merged with approaching storm clouds. Sunlight dipped behind the clouds, removing the dazzling, diamond-point glint on the water. From the angle of the sun she could tell she’d been gone from the house for a few hours.

  A few hours.

  Fear trickled inside her, the insidious, creeping sensation accompanying a good horror flick. Only this time the situation was all too real.

  The dark lake stretched in front of her like a mysterious beast, murky and harboring monsters. She’d heard somewhere that Puerto Azul boasted a creature similar to
Loch Ness’s famous Nessie in Scotland. Cold shivers cascaded over her skin despite the humid heat.

  Dragonflies flew like blue and purple airplanes along the water edge. A huge, hairy spider half the size of a dinner plate raced across her path and she gasped and took a step back.

  Lovely. A tarantula. The creature disappeared under a clump of gigantic ferns. She recalled reading that some people in South America ate tarantulas and her stomach flipped in revulsion.

  New worries arose as she put her hands to her face and felt the big ring. Jumbled thoughts battled for supremacy in her head. Had she suffered a breakdown? How did she get this far from the house? Then she remembered standing at the pool and looking into the ring. Everything within her had demanded she walk away. She couldn’t resist the pull. After that her memories stopped. She’d suffered amnesia, and the thought sent cold, hard terror racing through her normally steely calm exterior.

  Rustling behind her made her whirl around. Seconds crawled to mind-numbing slowness as she searched the jungle rising up on either side of her on this lonely trail. It couldn’t be natural for this trail to be here in the first place; jungle ate up land if the conditions became right. Places such as Angkor Watt in Cambodia had remained obscured by jungle for centuries for this very reason.

  When she didn’t see an animal ready to pounce, she took a deep, raspy breath of hot, humid air. Her entire body felt as heavy and exhausted as if she’d trekked miles.

  God, did I walk miles? Come on, think. Get control. Slow your breathing and think clearly.

  How?

  How did a person lose a few hours? She turned in a circle, again trying to get her bearings. From this vantage point she figured she’d walked from east to west. The vast plateau rose in front of her miles away. Turning back to the east, she noticed something standing on the edge of the rainforest. As she walked closer she saw a circle of six strange statues shaped like phalluses. Despite the situation, humor wasn’t lost on her. She took tentative steps toward them, curiosity overrunning fear.

  A snake slithered out of the bushes ahead of her. The yellow and tan animal didn’t pay her the least attention, but the sight of the four-foot-long, thick-bodied creature stopped Keira cold. She continued drawing in those cleansing breaths, her heart pattering an erratic beat born from the unknown. She felt trapped in a dream, a horror movie of her own making. Why had she come here and how would she get out?

  When the snake left, she crossed toward the standing stones and looked them over. About four feet high, their weathered faces held engravings she didn’t recognize from any previous archaeological experiences. The hash marks appeared similar to Viking Runic markings, but she could see enough differences that she knew they couldn’t be related. From the texture and wear on the stone she guessed this couldn’t be a recent undertaking.

  Involving her archaeological mind took away some of the relentless anxiety dogging her every step. She knelt in front of the stones and studied the intricate carvings below the hash marks. The first stone showed a clear sexual act. A woman on her knees sucking a man’s cock. The second stone featured a woman with her legs around a man while he took her up against a wall. The third stone showed a man taking a woman from behind as she stood, hands flat against a wall. The remaining three stones all showed wild sexual positions that looked almost impossible.

  Erotic carvings. Interesting. She wondered for a few moments if this could be an elaborate setup by a man like Haan to show his sexual proclivities. The more she thought about it, the less likely it seemed. After studying the stones for several moments, reality came back to bite.

  She must find her way back to the house. Common sense kicked in, along with swift internal condemnation. If she left this spot she might wind her way deeper into the jungle. She couldn’t be one hundred percent certain how far she’d wandered, and she didn’t have a watch on to tell how much time had passed. Maybe, if she stayed put, there would be a chance for rescue.

  * * * * *

  Zane’s air cut off as a hard forearm pressed against his windpipe and forced him back against the den’s dark-paneled wall. Haan’s bodyguard and limo driver, Douglas glared at Zane, teeth visible as the large man snarled. Zane would give the asshole about five seconds before he’d take him down.

  One. Two. Three.

  “Release him, Douglas!” Haan’s voice held steel certainty.

  Douglas immediately freed Zane. Zane couldn’t help the involuntary gasp for air as the man’s arm left his throat.

  Rage boiled inside Zane as he stepped toward the slightly taller, beefier man. “What the fuck was that all about?”

  Haan had been sitting behind his big desk, but he now stood, his smile placating as the other two men faced off. “Douglas is a bit impulsive and protective. You know you should knock before you enter my rooms.”

  Right now Zane didn’t give a flyin’ fuck. “And I’ll tell you very politely that I don’t give a shit.” Haan and Douglas bristled, but Zane continued. “Keira is missing.”

  Puzzlement passed over Haan’s face. “What?”

  “She isn’t in the house. I’ve looked all over.”

  Haan smiled and Zane wanted to wipe that supercilious expression right off his pansy face and feed it to him. “Calm down. We need to think this through. You’re absolutely sure she’s not in the house?”

  Fuck yes, you moron. He wanted to scream the words but knew it wouldn’t be wise.

  “Yes. I need your help to find her. If she’s wandered off in the jungle…”

  He didn’t need to finish his sentence; the implication said everything.

  Haan didn’t look the least concerned, the cold bastard. “I’m sure she’s all right wherever she is. But I’ll give you the supplies you need. Douglas here can help you look for her.”

  “No,” Zane said with ice-hard determination. “I’ll do it alone.”

  “Alone in the jungle?” Douglas laughed. “You’re not too bright are you?”

  Zane noted the Special Forces tattoo on one of Douglas’s biceps. Internally he allowed a snarl of contempt to roar. Not because he had particular enmity for Special Forces, but he knew the ego this man must possess to have survived the training and to endure this life with Haan. The fact Douglas was in league with Haan proved the guy was an A-number one asshole.

  Zane schooled his expression. “I’m experienced in extreme situations.”

  “I’ll just bet you are,” Douglas said with contempt.

  “Boys.” Haan waved his hands like a referee. “Let’s not do this. Zane, you need to find your fiancée. I’d go with you, but…well, I have an aversion to going into the jungle nowadays.”

  Even though Zane didn’t want Haan with him, he knew the man harbored knowledge about this jungle Zane couldn’t hope to know. “You’re familiar with this jungle.”

  Haan actually paled and shook his head. “Not anymore. I haven’t been out there since the last expedition that took so many of my friends. Come. I’ll show you the supplies you’ll need.”

  All the way to the basement Zane wondered why the man didn’t show at least fake concern about Keira. His inability to express real distress shouldn’t have surprised Zane, but he figured a good show would be right up Zane’s alley. Yeah, something is definitely rotten here.

  Haan led Zane to a huge storage closet in the massive basement. The megalomaniac had supplied his downstairs with enough food to feed an army for months. The closet held supplies for a voyage of some size.

  Zane rummaged through the assortment of provisions and jammed items into the large camie frame backpack Haan supplied. Soon his backpack was filled with food and water for a couple of days plus a first aid kit and a space-age set of thermal blankets and one large sleeping bag that could hold two people. After tacking on a small lean-to like tent, the pack weighed a ton. Zane didn’t give a shit. He could handle it.

  He needed one other thing, and he couldn’t afford to be shy about asking.

  “Do you have a weapon I can tak
e with me?” Zane asked. “Preferably a semiautomatic or automatic weapon. Small. Light.”

  Haan’s eyes widened and a small smile curved his thin mouth. “You guess correctly. I have just the thing.” Haan retreated to another closet. He opened the big double doors. A blank wall greeted them. He pressed the single button on the door jamb and the blank wall slid up into the ceiling.

  “Impressive,” Zane said as an array of weapons came into view.

  Haan stepped back and gestured toward the cache of firepower. “They’re yours. Whatever you may require.”

  Zane immediately spotted an M-4 and decided it would do. He snatched it off the rack and then noted another drawer below. “Ammunition?”

  “Take as much as you think you’ll need.”

  Stepping away to another set of drawers, Haan produced a map and small GPS device. “You’ll need this to know where you’re going.”

  Haan’s expression said he doubted Zane’s abilities, but Zane didn’t plan on enlightening the man just how capable he could be. Zane took the map and GPS. He strapped the weapon to the side of the pack with the compression holder.

  Fueled by urgency, Zane hauled ass upstairs with the backpack, grim-faced and ready to face the great outdoors. He changed into a short-sleeved khaki camp shirt, sturdy jeans, thick socks, and hiking boots. After he jammed an old boonie hat on his head, he slathered on his SIA high-power sunscreen and bug repellant. To do anything less would be foolhardy in this country. He rolled up some old sweats and stuffed them into the pack. He charged down the stairs aware that although he left in daylight, they wouldn’t be able to get back before the storm broke.

  Haan waited for him outside by the pool. The man’s cold eyes held little sympathy or concern, and it made Zane angry enough to chew through leather.

  Ease off, Spinella. There isn’t a damn thing more important right now than finding Keira fast.