A brief pause on the line, then Heather spoke again. “We are.”
“As soon as we’re done with what we have to do in the next hour, I want you to get out of that house. Get to the Hotel Caribe in Cartegena as quickly as possible. A man named Juan Perdero works at the front desk. Tell him these exact words: ‘Don’t fear the Reaper.’ He will reply, ‘Agents of Fortune?’ to which you respond, ‘1976.’ Have you got that?”
“Yes,” Heather replied.
“Good. He’ll arrange to meet you in a more secure location. Once there, tell him I said to get you the papers and transportation you’ll need to get to Santa Cruz, Bolivia.”
“Bolivia?”
Jack ignored the question. “Once you get to Santa Cruz, hire a taxi to take you to the Mennonite community called Quatro Cañadas. It sits on the far side of the Rio Grande, a couple of hours northeast of Santa Cruz. The Robertson family will take you in. Ask for directions to their farm.”
“I understand.” Heather’s voice carried a minor tremor, as if dreading what he might say next.
“There’s one more thing. It’s hard, but absolutely necessary. Before you leave the estate, you need to kill Don Espeñosa. If you don’t, you’ll have no chance of getting out of Colombia alive. Mark, do you understand me?”
Mark’s voice sounded stressed, but steady. “I understand.”
“Good. Remember, find the Robertson Mennonite farm. Stay with them until I come for you. Do what you can to fit in. They are good people.” Jack leaned away, turning the microphone back to Janet.
Despite her curiosity, Janet returned the conversation to the job at hand. “As much as I’d love to chat with you all, we’re a little tight on time. Jack and I have the supplies we’re going to need to splice into the antenna’s data cable.
“Right now we’re in a maintenance building a couple hundred yards from the antenna. It’s unoccupied and a good spot for me to set up this laptop. In a few minutes, Jack will take his kit and move on out to the antenna to make the splice. He’ll wire in another laptop with a wireless network card that I can tie into from here. Once he’s done that, I’ll let you know we’re ready.”
Heather answered, her voice shaky. “Okay. By then we’ll have run a complete analysis on the data link so that we’ll know the signals to feed back to the control center. We have to make them think the antenna and satellite downlinks are operating normally, even when Jack cuts the line.”
“Then he’ll get going.”
“Wait. On second thought, there’s no need for you to tell us when Jack’s ready. We’ll know as soon as he cuts the line. When we see that, we’ll substitute our own signal through the QT on your laptop and out through the wireless card at the antenna.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Okay. Be strong. Talk to you later. Janet out.”
Janet clicked off the speakerphone button, briefly considering the possibility that the young savants were still listening. It didn’t matter. They could do that any time they wanted.
Janet rose from the chair, stepping up beside Jack as he opened the door. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him deep. “Watch yourself.”
“Always do.”
With that, Jack moved away around the side of the building and disappeared into the darkness. Janet closed the door behind her, set the Heckler & Koch 9mm on the desk beside her laptop, and sat back down.
She wouldn’t have long to wait.
144
In the past, Eduardo would have needed the artificial enhancement provided by night-vision binoculars to see the dark landscape stretched out before him. But the growth of his abilities since he had first placed the artifact upon his head had changed all that. While it wasn’t like looking out at daylight, this spectrum of illumination was almost as clear. Tonight, the darkness shrouding Schriever Air Force Base would not help conceal its secrets.
It was almost as if he could see into the Ripper’s head. The man had done exactly what he would have done, skirting the perimeter fencing of the air force base until he found the perfect spot, cut a hole in the fencing, and gone through, directly toward the GPS antenna visible in the distance. As pleasurable as it was to kill guards, dead guards attracted more attention than live ones, failing to respond to radio queries, failing to check in on required intervals. Best to bypass them, letting them cluelessly continue their ineffective patrols.
The man was good. But tonight, the Ripper was his.
Eduardo slid through the cut in the fence, the sniper rifle slung across his shoulders. In the distance, he could see the GPS antenna silhouetted against a number of lighted buildings farther away. Closer at hand, perhaps two hundred yards away from the antenna, a steel building jutted up from the ground, obviously a maintenance building of some type.
As Eduardo began to move forward, the door to the building slid open, causing him to sink down to the ground. A man moved into the doorway, paused momentarily as a woman moved to embrace him. As they separated again, the man paused, like an animal sniffing the night air, his gaze sweeping outward. Then he moved away rapidly, rounding the building toward the antenna. The Ripper.
Eduardo’s gaze refocused on the woman in the doorway, backlit by a dim glow from inside, something only he could see. Her extended belly told him all he needed to know. She was pregnant.
Why in the world would Jack Gregory bring a pregnant woman along on this mission? There could be only one reason. This was more than just a member of his team. This was his lover, and in her swollen stomach, his unborn child. Funny that Garfield Kromly hadn’t mentioned that. Had he known? Was it possible that he had taken that secret with him to his grave? A last, small victory?
Eduardo smiled. He didn’t think so, but it didn’t really matter. He now knew. And it was perfect.
Stepping back inside, the woman pulled the door closed. Immediately, El Chupacabra was up and moving again, covering the intervening distance in a ground-burning lope that kept the building between him and the antenna. Between him and the Ripper.
The metal building rose up before him like an ancient Sphinx rising out of the night, vainly trying to protect its Pharaoh. Eduardo paused just outside the door, a grin of anticipation spreading across his face. There would be no protection from that which had been summoned. Not here. Not tonight.
In the darkness just outside the door, Eduardo stilled his breathing, allowing the sounds within the maintenance building to caress his enhanced hearing. Inside, fingers tapped a computer keyboard. He increased his focus. There it was. A lone heartbeat. Wait. Two heartbeats, one at a steady fifty-six beats per minute. The other, much less distinct, raced along at a hundred-and-ten beats per minute. And this second was at a higher pitch, the volume of blood pulsing through a much, much smaller aortic cavity.
The mother and her unborn child.
The woman was close, sitting at a computer not more than ten feet from the door. El Chupacabra couldn’t have asked for anything better. What had started as a great night had suddenly gotten better. Much better.
With a pull that shot the door open along its track, El Chupacabra leaped into the room, racing across the intervening space with a speed that no mortal could match. Although surprised, the woman recovered immediately, her hand flying to the gun sitting beside the laptop. She was fast. But not nearly fast enough.
Eduardo’s blow knocked her backward out of her chair, sending the weapon flying into the center of the room. Landing in a tuck roll that brought her back to her feet, the pregnant agent-woman found herself too slow to deal with the onslaught that confronted her. Eduardo chopped into the side of her neck with a precisely gauged blow.
She pitched forward, face-first, but before she could hit the concrete floor, Eduardo caught her, tossing her over his left shoulder as if she weighed no more than a child.
His eyes swept the room. Definitely not the spot he wanted to take on the Ripper. Single exit, too enclosed. If the Ripper waited outside, Eduardo would b
e trapped here. Ignoring the laptop, his eyes moved to the walkie-talkie on the desk.
Picking it up, Eduardo paused in the doorway just long enough to ensure the path was clear. Then, backtracking along the way he’d entered the air base, he stuffed the woman’s unconscious body beneath the fence flap, then ducked through. Once again, he lifted her onto his shoulder, the feel of the unborn heartbeat in her belly elevating his pulse with anticipation.
A quarter-mile later he found what he’d been looking for: a draw that funneled into a perfect kill zone. Laying the woman down between two trees, he extracted his rape kit, pulling loose a pre-cut strip of duct tape and placing it across her mouth. He didn’t bother to bind her hands and feet. After all, he was a new god. Well beyond fear of any man, much less a woman.
Eduardo touched the woman’s pregnant belly, looked back toward the airbase, and smiled. In a few minutes he would press the button on the walkie-talkie to let Jack Gregory hear his girlfriend’s screams.
A grin of anticipation split Eduardo’s lips. The Ripper would come for him. And then El Chupacabra would show the Ripper the true meaning of fear.
145
Janet struggled toward wakefulness, her lips so dry that they felt like they’d been glued together. Then it came back to her.
Her eyes popped open, but her lips did not. A heavy strip of duct tape closed them as effectively as a padlock on a storage locker. She couldn’t move her arms either. They were pinned to the ground by a pair of knees that straddled her stomach.
A face swam into her blurred vision, a startlingly handsome face. In her memory, it had a name attached to it, although in her current state of confusion, that name eluded her.
The night breeze was cold on her naked body, squeezing her skin into tight little goose bumps, puckering her nipples. She was completely naked. The realization brought her out of the haze. She moved her gaze to the man who straddled her. Although fully clothed, he was plainly excited.
Weighing her options, Janet looked again into that face, her eyes locking with her attacker’s. Eduardo Montenegro.
She tried to scissor her legs, but they failed to respond. She was a cobra, locked in the snake charmer’s gaze, her body frozen so that she could only stare up into those strangely active eyes.
Eduardo smiled as his hands caressed her body.
“Hello, Janet. It is Janet, isn’t it?” The silky smooth Latin voice creeped her out more than her inability to respond. “With this round body, it took me a while to recognize you from your file photos.”
Eduardo leaned down and gently kissed her on the cheek, the feel of his lips sending a pulse of revulsion through her body. It felt like she’d just been kissed by her mortician.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “I like pregnant ladies, especially ones as pretty as you. It excites me.”
His breath on her cheek smelled faintly of cinnamon candy. Red Hots. Christ, she’d dated a boy in high school who had chugged down Red Hots. Janet had never liked him either.
“You know what makes me really hot?” Eduardo asked, opening the buttons on his shirt.
“Fuck you,” Janet mumbled behind the tape gag.
Eduardo smiled. “That too. But first, indulge me with a bit of fantasy. Tell me, young lady. What do you really fear?”
Suddenly, Janet found her gaze bound more tightly to his, unable to move, unable to blink.
The night sky melted away, leaving her seated in a green, grassy park with a large sand playground. The sound of children laughing as they swung from the monkey bars tickled her ears. It was a perfect day. She didn’t know why she should be uneasy, but she was.
Where was her Robby? He’d been right here just a minute ago, whirling round and round on the merry-go-round, but now he was gone.
“Robby?” she called, her voice barely rising above the children’s laughter.
“Robby!” Her voice held an edge of the terror only a mother can know. “Where are you, baby?”
As she rose to her feet and took a step forward, she felt the sand shift between her bare toes, small fingers closing around them.
Looking down, she saw the familiar little hand slip away beneath the sand.
“No! Robby!” Janet screamed, dropping to her knees, desperately scooping at the sand.
Her fingers touched a headful of soft, curly hair, then a bare cheek. Another scoop revealed her baby boy’s face.
“Mama! Help!” Robby’s terrified scream was cut short by the sand as he once again slipped beneath the surface.
Suddenly, she felt it. The tiny hand gripping her own. Janet redoubled her efforts, sending great double-handed scoops of sand arcing into the air behind her as she dug with her other hand.
Robby’s head and left shoulder were now clear of the sand. Another few scoops and she should be able to pull him free.
Something metallic glinted in the sand just beyond her baby’s shoulder, shimmering in a way that attracted his gaze. Mesmerized, Robby freed his other hand and reached for it, his small fingers closing around the shiny object with a surprising strength.
Janet felt the tug pull her child away from her as the object disappeared beneath the surface,
“Robby! Let go of that! Give me your other hand!”
But Robby didn’t hear her. His little face turned away as he struggled to free himself from her tenuous grip in his efforts to retrieve the thing. With a sound almost like a slurp, the sand sucked him down, his tiny hand sliding from her grasp.
“Somebody! Help me!” she screamed. “My baby’s under here.”
But the other parents just sat on the nearby benches, pointing and laughing as if she was playing some sort of game.
There it was again, the touch of small fingers beneath the sand. Janet grabbed for the little hand, but she could only get the fingers, and those were slipping away, pulled downward by a suction she could not overcome.
As the little hand slipped away for the last time, her scream warbled out past the tape that gagged her mouth, carried away on the brisk night breeze.
Eduardo’s face was back, his smile having widened since she last remembered seeing it. “Good girl. I think we’ve found it.”
The Colombian grabbed her swollen belly in both hands, not exactly squeezing, but feeling very deeply. Janet coughed into her gag, her eyes watering so badly she could barely see. The vision of her unborn child filled her mind with more clarity than any sonogram could provide. And although it should have been a hallucination, she knew this was real.
Somehow, El Chupacabra had formed a three-way loop, piping the feelings of her unborn child through his mind and into hers. Her stomach writhed, the child curling into a tight ball, kicking out with both feet.
A terror worse than any she could have imagined formed in her baby’s mind, its small mouth working as if it was trying to form a scream. It rolled in the womb, twisting the umbilical cable around its throat, then again, tightening the fleshy noose.
“I’m gonna kill you, you sick bastard!” Janet screamed into the muffling duct tape, the white heat of hatred overriding her fear. “I swear to God!”
The baby rolled in her stomach again, twisting the umbilical so tightly that all blood supply was blocked off. Worse, its terror had risen to the point that its movements had become suicidal. But still, Eduardo increased his focus, steadily turning up the volume on her unborn child’s fear.
As Janet screamed her terror and frustration, Eduardo thumbed the microphone on the walkie-talkie.
“Ripper. Do you hear your lover’s muffled screams? If you hurry, she and your baby might still be alive when you get here. Come to me.”
146
“What’s happening?”
The edge in Mark’s voice relayed the stress produced by having to watch the two girls work. Jennifer’s fingers danced across the keyboard as Heather talked her through the satellite downlink algorithms.
“I don’t know,” Heather said. “Jack finished the splice for the downlink, but we don’t have our u
plink connection.”
“Which means?”
“It means we can spoof the control center to make them think they’re still talking to the satellite, but we can’t send any commands. We can’t uplink the code.”
“Maybe Jack is still working on that connection.”
Heather turned toward him, her eyes just clearing from one of her trances. “I don’t think Jack’s going to finish the connection. I think something’s gone terribly wrong.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
Jennifer lifted her face to stare at them. “I started the fake downlink, but without that last connection we’re dead in the water. And the control station will only be fooled for so long.”
“Shit!” Mark began pacing back and forth across the room. “There has to be something we can do. Can we hack another system?”
Jennifer shook her head. “That’s just it. Jack cut the cable on the uplink side. Even if I could hack the control center to override their uplink, the commands wouldn’t get to the satellite.”
Heather leaned over the laptop and pressed the speakerphone button on the QT chat program. “Janet. Something’s wrong with Jack. Are you there?”
After several seconds of silence, she tried again. “Janet. We have an emergency. Please respond.”
Silence.
“Shit!” Mark repeated, his level of anxiety rising with each passing moment.
“How much time do we have before they detect our spoof?” Jennifer asked.
“Twelve minutes, fourteen seconds or so,” Heather responded.
“Or so?”
“It’s just an approximation.”
Mark stopped pacing. “What about a subspace hack?”
Jennifer shrugged. “I already told you, that won’t do any good.”
“Not on the control center. Can we get the coordinate on the uplink line at the antenna?”
Heather jumped up. “That’s it. Mark, you’re a genius. I should have thought of that.”
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