by David Wood
Helicopters.
It took less than two minutes for the two aircraft to reach the island. They were civilian birds, big enough to hold several passengers, the sort that might be used for island hopping with groups of tourists, but it was immediately clear that the men inside were not day-trippers.
With the two aircraft hovering just a few feet above the water, the side doors slid open, and bodies began pouring out, at least ten men from each helicopter. They wore military style fatigues and tactical gear, and carried a variety of weapons—mostly assault rifles outfitted with various scopes and other attachments. The total lack of uniformity suggested they were almost certainly hired guns, and the question of who had hired them was answered when, even at a distance, Jade recognized one of the men splashing up onto the beach, rifle at the ready.
“Hodges?” she asked.
“Hodges,” Professor confirmed. “I guess you didn’t see that coming.”
TWELVE
Isla del Caño, Costa Rica
Professor drew his pistol as if just having it in his hands gave him the confidence to meet this new overwhelming threat. It didn’t.
“Take Paul and head for the eastern side of the island. Find a place to dig in. I mean that literally. Cover up and stay hidden. Our only chance is to hold them off long enough for someone to come investigate.”
Jade drew her own gun. “No.”
“Damn it, Jade, this is no time for a pissing match. I have experience with this sort of thing.”
“You have experience with twenty-to-one odds?” She shook her head. “No way. We stick together.”
Professor growled under his breath. “Will you at least follow my lead?”
“Sure. You have experience with this sort of thing.”
He let that pass without comment. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Hodges flinched as the report of a Kalashnikov echoed across the beach. He had only just waded up onto the sand and already the first shots had been fired. He raced toward a cluster of the hired gunmen to see if they had, by some lucky chance, taken out Chapman or one of the others. They had not. The men were gathered around the bullet-riddled corpse of a park ranger.
A man holding an AKS-74, smoke curling from the muzzle, shrugged. “No witnesses, right?”
Hodges frowned, but nodded his assent. He wasn’t happy about having to utilize this ad hoc collection of mercenaries that Gutierrez had foisted on him. Some of them, he knew, were former Mexican Army and federales—at least he assumed they were “former”—while others were contract killers who ran errands for the narcotraficantes. It was a motley collection, but evidently the paycheck Gutierrez had promised was more persuasive than former loyalties. Although Hodges was nominally in command, they responded to his directions about as well as a pack of wild dogs.
The helicopters had moved away from the drop zone and were circling the island to provide aerial surveillance. Not that it would do much good; the forest canopy afforded good cover, and Chapman was, after all, a former SEAL. He was in his element.
If, of course, he was here at all.
Hodges had to give Gutierrez credit. While he had been cooling his heels at Teotihuacan, the Mexican multi-billionaire had cast a wide net, just in case the targets had somehow escaped the fuel-air bomb. Sure enough, an informant had reported seeing people matching the description of Chapman and Jade Ihara, boarding a flight to Costa Rica. Hodges had been dubious about the report; informants made their money by telling people like Gutierrez what they wanted to hear, regardless of whether it was factual. Nevertheless, it was a lead that couldn’t be ignored, and Hodges had headed south to see if, by some miracle, Chapman and the others had survived.
He had not yet attempted to contact Tam Broderick, and if Chapman really was alive, his cover was already blown. Worse, Broderick would know that the organization had been infiltrated. Still, it couldn’t be helped. This was war, and sacrifices had to be made.
More shots rang out of the jungle, not the crack of supersonic rounds from an assault weapon, but the throatier bark of a handgun report. The pistol shots were answered by semi-automatic fire, and Hodges hefted his own AR-15 and headed in the direction of the battle.
Well, that answers one question. Chapman had survived. If there was even a chance of salvaging his cover, it would depend on a swift resolution to the immediate situation.
He charged up a trail leading into the interior of the island and soon found the body of a fallen mercenary. There was more scattered shooting from up ahead but no more pistol shots. The mercenaries didn’t have a target. Hodges kept going.
He soon caught up to two more of his men. They were scanning the area, focusing their attention on a slope that rose above the trail.
“Did you see them?”
The nearest man shook his head and spat indignantly. “The bastard ambushed us. Killed Raul and ran. We never saw him, but I think he’s up there.”
“Then let’s—”
A shot rang out from above and the mercenary spun half around in a halo of red. Hodges bolted for cover behind a nearby tree as did the surviving mercenary, but no more shots came. Hodges leaned out from behind cover, just far enough to sweep the hillside.
Chapman was probably already gone. Outnumbered as he was, hit and run tactics were the only way the man could hope to stay alive, and if he had enough bullets, it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that the former SEAL might actually win the fight, or at least stay alive long enough to put one of those lucky shots through Hodges skull.
Swift resolution, he thought. “Pete! Can we talk about this?”
Several seconds passed and Hodges was about to give up on the idea of a parlay when a voice, loud and closer than he expected, came out of the jungle. “A little late for that, don’t you think?”
Hodges drew back. He quickly found the other mercenary and, gestured for him to attempt a flanking maneuver. The man seemed to understand and slipped stealthily into the woods.
Hodges took a deep breath, then called out again. “I hope not. I’m sorry about the way things went down. I had to make a judgment call.”
Silence.
Hodges knew he had to keep Chapman engaged, keep him talking, in order to give the mercenaries a chance to fix his location.
“I’m going to show my cards, Pete. Maybe then you’ll understand. Maybe you’ll even consider joining me. We could use a guy with your skills.”
“We? You got a mouse in your pocket?”
Hodges jerked. The voice had come from a different place. Chapman was moving, flanking him and getting closer, and now he was alone. He picked up and fell back, racing parallel to the trail. Fifty yards later, he spotted four more mercenaries coming up the path.
Thank God! He got down behind a tree and called out again. “You deserve an explanation, Pete. No matter what you might think, we’re on the same side.”
“That doesn’t sound like an explanation.”
Still close. What’s he trying to do? The mercenaries, alerted by the exchange, fanned out to either side of the trail and started searching for a target.”
Chapman called out again. “How can you be working for them, after what they did to your family?”
“Pete, you don’t think I’m actually working for the Dominion?”
“Who else?”
Hodges weighed his options. If he could convince Chapman to hear him out, to join him, that would be a win-win situation. If not, he might be able to flush his foe out so that the mercenaries could finish him off, but doing so would mean putting himself in Chapman’s sights.
No victory without sacrifice.
“Pete, I’m going to step out in the open. Flag of truce. I just want to talk.”
Chapman didn’t answer.
Hodges waved one of the mercenaries over. “I’m going to step out in the open. If he shoots me, watch for the muzzle flash and let him have it.”
The mercenary tipped him a nod of grudging approval. “You got som
e cojones, amigo.”
Hodges wished he felt as brave as the gunman seemed to think he was. With his heart pounding furiously in his chest, he slung his rifle across his back and walked out onto the trail, hands raised.
“Flag of truce,” he repeated. “I know you’re an honorable man.”
There was a sound like a cough or maybe harsh laughter from somewhere in the trees, but Chapman said nothing. When Hodges spoke again, he did so at a softer volume, so that his voice would not be heard by the mercenaries at his back. “It started in Norfolk…”
Jade put the last fig leaf in place and then took a step back to view her handiwork. The leaves were spread out to cover a rectangular area about four feet wide and eight feet long. Perfect. They won’t be able to miss it.
She glanced up the hill to where Dorion waited behind a screen of leaves and branches, waved, and then headed into the jungle to check on Professor. There had been a lot of shooting earlier, but after that she had heard talking and figured Professor had made good on his plan to stall Hodges and buy them enough time to finish laying in their defenses, such as they were.
As she crept through the trees, she could hear Hodges’ voice, but he wasn’t speaking loud enough for her to make out more than the occasional word. There was a very good chance that Hodges was also stalling, trying to give his men a chance to sweep around their flanks, so instead of trying to get closer, she hunkered down behind a tree, gun drawn, and waited.
Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, and another caught her hand, preventing her from discharging the pistol. She started involuntarily, trying to twist free, and then saw Professor’s face above her own. He let go of her hand and held a finger to his lips, then let go of her altogether and motioned for her to follow.
He led her through the jungle, closer to the sound of Hodges’ voice, stopping only when his words became distinct.
“—could not allow something like that to happen again,” he was saying. “It’s not just the Dominion. You get that right? It’s everyone. Muslim extremists… Christian fundamentalists with an apocalypse fetish. Hell, even those kooks waiting for the mother ship to come out of the comet. These people are out there and they’re just waiting for something to light their fuse.
“It doesn’t even have to be something like what you found in Teo, or what the Dominion found at Atlantis. These people operate in a fact-free environment, but when it does turn out to be something really special? Something supernatural? Then it’s a thousand times worse. That’s why the Norfolk Group was formed.”
Up to that point, Jade had not understood what Hodges was driving at, but with his mention of “the Norfolk Group” the pieces fell into place. Not content merely to work with the Myrmidons against the Dominion, he had chosen to align himself with a different kind of secret society—one dedicated to suppressing discoveries that might embolden religious radicals and opportunists like the Dominion to launch terrorist campaigns, or even make a bid for world domination.
Professor touched a finger to his lips again, and then cupped his hands around his mouth so that the sound of his voice would travel up into the tree tops. “So you’re the good guys, is that it?”
As soon as he was done speaking, he gestured for Jade to follow again, moving fifty feet further down slope, just in case Hodges’ men were trying to pinpoint the sound of his voice.
“Look, I won’t lie to you. The Group was formed by wealthy men who know that another Norfolk or 9/11 will crush the world economy. They’ve worked hard to get where they are and they don’t need a bunch of crazies turning the world upside down. So yeah, maybe they’re doing it for the wrong reasons, but it’s the right thing to do, Pete.
“What you found down there under that pyramid? That’s exactly the kind of thing that could touch off the next firestorm. Thousands dead. Maybe millions. Maybe a lot more if the economy goes. It’s better just to bury these things.
“I know you must feel like I betrayed you. I wish there had been time to do things differently. Hell, I wish that there had been nothing at Teo but rocks and bones, but wishing won’t make it so.”
He stopped as if waiting for Professor to respond, and when that didn’t happen, he went on. “I don’t want to kill you, Pete. We’re on the same side; we both want a world safe from the Dominion and everybody else who wants to flush it down the crapper. What do you say? There’s always room for one more.”
“Just one more?” Professor called back. “Let me guess. Part of the deal is that I give up Jade and Paul.”
He flashed her a look that said, Not a chance. Jade was surprised by just how much that reassured her.
“Loose lips sink ships, Pete. I know you can keep a secret, but the others?”
Professor pointed up the hill and mouthed the word “Go!” Even though Hodges didn’t know it, the parlay was over; the war was back on.
With Professor behind her, Jade crept up the hill, making certain to keep lots of forest cover between herself and the mercenaries. She could still hear Hodges, droning on about sacrifices for the greater good and the need for absolute secrecy, but his voice became fainter with each step she took. By the time they reached the top of the slope, where Dorion waited, she could no longer even distinguish him from the ambient jungle noise.
“You believe all that?” she whispered to Professor.
“The Norfolk Group? A bunch of rich men trying to protect their wealth by destroying anything that might upset the apple cart? Sounds pretty plausible to me. The thing is, a lot of regular people probably feel the same way; people like Brian who lost loved ones in the attacks. They’d do anything to keep it from happening again.”
“That’s insane. The truth doesn’t go away just because you cover it up.”
Professor simply inclined his head in agreement. “You ready?”
“What are our chances of making it through this?”
He regarded her with a sardonic grin. “You want the truth?”
“I see what you mean.”
“Ok. Get ready.” He aimed the pistol down the slope in the general direction of the mercenaries and fired two shots into the trees. The noise seemed deafening after the brief lull in the fight. It would have taken a miracle for him to score a hit, but Jade knew that wasn’t his intention. “Wait for it.”
There were shouts and then Jade saw movement as the mercenaries started advancing in quick bursts, moving from one tree to the next. The terrain forced them to move almost single file, which was one of the reasons Professor had chosen the top of the hill for their first fighting position.
The first man in the line pulled up short when he spied the covering of leaves Jade had laid. “¡Ten cuidado!” he shouted. “¡Creo que es una trampa!” Be careful. I think there’s a trap. Then, heeding his own advice, he cautiously started up the slope.
“Now?” whispered Dorion.
“Not yet.”
A second man emerged, sweeping the barrel of his rifle toward the hilltop, but keeping one eye on the leafy camouflage, clearly wary of a concealed pitfall or some other snare.
“They fell for it,” she whispered back. “Two coming up.”
“Let’s try for a triple-play,” Professor answered back.
A third man stepped out from cover. It was Hodges, and like the others, he was dividing his attention between the hilltop and the narrow strip of ground where it was, presumably, safe to walk.
“Now,” Professor whispered.
Dorion pushed on the handle of the entrenching tool they had wedged under the stone sphere, levering it into motion. It smashed through the screen of fig leaves, and started rolling down the slope, gathering momentum as it went.
The first man spotted it and froze in place. His eyes darted to the side, perhaps weighing the threat of whatever lay beneath the leaf cover against the small boulder rolling toward him. His hesitancy cost him the opportunity to make the choice. The sphere may have looked like an over-sized beach ball, but it hit the man’s legs like a pile driver, knocki
ng him back and continuing over him like he was nothing but a speed bump. The second man, his view blocked by his comrade, never saw it coming.
Hodges, forewarned by the cries of the two men and the crunch of the stone ball breaking their bones, reflexively threw himself to the side, right into the leaf cover. The sphere clipped his foot as it rolled past and then crashed into the trees where it continued to carom noisily down the hillside. Hodges lay motionless for a moment atop the leaf cover, as if hardly able to believe that he was alive.
There was no trap, at least not of the sort the attackers were expecting. There hadn’t been time to dig a pit or create spring-tension spear traps with tree branches. “It would take us a couple days to set up all that Rambo stuff,” Professor had said. “That’s time we don’t have. But they won’t know that.”
Instead, he and Dorion had undertaken the tricky and somewhat Sisyphusian task of rolling the stone sphere they had discovered out of its hole and up to the perch on the hilltop, while Jade had gathered leaves to create the illusion of a concealed pit trap. And it had worked beautifully. Mostly.
Well, two out of three ain’t bad, Jade thought.
Professor however, wasn’t ready to call it a failure. He rose up from cover and started firing down at Hodges, but right away, the mercenaries spread out below started firing back. The tree line erupted with muzzle flashes and veritable wave of lead rolled up the slope. Jade caught a glimpse of Hodges scrambling for cover and then was herself driven back as tree branches began splintering all around her.
“Go!” Professor shouted.
They had known, even as they labored to set up their hilltop defense, that it would be only a temporary position. They had hoped for nothing more than to slow their attackers down a little, break their spirit, and if they were lucky, thin the ranks a little. They had succeeded in the last at least, but the odds were still stacked high against them. Their plan then had been to accomplish what they could at the hilltop, and then make a desperate retreat for the east side of the island. They had not discussed what would happen then; Jade knew they would have to make a last stand, go out in a blaze of a glory, but saying it aloud would have been too much to bear.