Storm Surge (Delta Stevens Crime Logs Book 6)

by Alex Westmore

  Carducci’s smile widened even further. “Man, that’d be great.”

  Connie reached for his hand and held it between hers. “Tony, we’ve been so hard on you at RVPD because somewhere, deep down, Delta saw the potential for you to be a great cop. Delta doesn’t let potential go to waste.”

  Carducci nodded, looking down at his big hand sandwiched between Connie’s. “That why she rides me so hard?”

  Connie chuckled. “Trust me, Tony, you haven’t experienced just how hard Delta can really be.”

  “That’s a scary thought.”

  “Indeed. You know how she works. She has one speed. Fast. You either keep up, follow, or get the hell out of the way.”

  “Yeah. I’ve seen that. It’s what makes her so good.”

  “It’s one of the things that make her so good.”

  “You don’t think she’d mind if I took Junior to be with the guys, do you?”

  Connie’s eyebrows rose. “The guys?”

  “Yeah, you know. The other little boys in the park.”

  Connie grinned as she shook her head. “What if it’s a girl?”

  Carducci appeared momentarily stumped before another smile spread across his face. “Then, I’ll teach her how to kick ass!”

  The front screen slammed open, and Megan pushed her way through it, hot, sweaty, and swearing.

  “It’s about time. Where’ve you two been?” Connie asked, taking one of Megan’s bags from her.

  “Someone,” she shot a look at Taylor, who fell in beside her, “doesn’t know how to read a map.”

  “Hey, I can’t help it if the damn thing is in Spanish!” Taylor tossed her bag on the floor. “This place is out in the boondocks.”

  Connie put her hands on the smaller woman’s shoulders. “I’m afraid, where the ‘boondocks’ are concerned, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Delta hadn’t seen the interior of the camp yet, but it wasn’t long before she came across her first sentry. Ducking down, adrenaline surged through her as she watched his legs as he strolled by. She was close. Now, all she needed to do was find Zahn’s trailer, get in, make a call, and get out so she could frame a strategy. One had already been brewing in the back of her mind. With the silence of the bow and arrow and blowgun, she could take out the sentries first. But she had to make sure that none of their weapons went off to alarm the others. She would have to bring them down quietly, one by one, just as she had told Itka.

  But first, the trailer.

  She’d considered waiting until night, but she couldn’t risk either fumbling in the dark for the phone or shining a light for all to see. The odds were that Zahn would be there, and confronting him right now was not part of the plan. Delta had to get help first. She might be able to weaken Zahn’s numbers, but in the big picture, he had the hostages, and she couldn’t afford to put them at risk. So, she would wait. Wait for back up to find her out here in the middle of nowhere. Wait for Connie to come running, as she had so often in the past. Wait.

  Delta silently made her way closer to the camp, which was set up much like the other, but with one huge exception. There were no tents. Where was he keeping the prisoners? Delta squatted on her haunches and watched the camp’s minimal activity.

  Days ago, when Delta and company had come to find Megan, they’d arrived at the camp only to discover that Megan had cut her way out of her tent.

  More than likely, Zahn had fixed this “problem” by keeping the prisoners some place safer, like the caverns themselves.

  “Damn,” Delta whispered, splitting a leaf with her thumb. It would be much harder to get the prisoners out of a cave than out of tents. She couldn’t do it on her own, that was certain. She had to get to that phone and let someone know she was alive, know where she was. To the rest of the world, Delta was a needle in a haystack. But to Connie Rivera, she was the golden egg, and if Connie knew Delta was somewhere in the jungle, Connie would find her. Delta was counting on that.

  For the next hour, she watched the comings and goings, until she saw Zahn exit the trailer, say something to one of his men, and walk toward the caverns. This might be the only chance she would get.

  Carefully pulling out two of the small, feathered Bri darts, Delta loaded one into the blowgun and with a quick inhale and a push of air, sent a dart into the leg of one of the guards. Swatting at the protruding dart as if it were an insect, he collapsed in a heap.

  After removing her bow, arrows, and remaining curare tips from her quiver, Delta sent her second dart toward another sentry. He toppled over two seconds after the dart embedded in his arm. Delta wished they could use these darts on the streets back home instead of a chokehold or baton. How easy it would be to subdue a perpetrator.

  Delta covered her weapons, knapsack, bota, and canteen, for later. She plucked both darts from the men before quickly scooting around to the back side of the trailer. There, she found one window ajar, and with a sharp tug, opened it completely and slithered through. When she landed, she was surprised her leg and shoulder held up so well, and wished she’d had more time with Flora’s grandmother to talk about the healing agents she’d used on the bullet wounds.

  What she found inside the trailer surprised her, even though Megan had described it. In the middle of the jungle, General Zahn was somehow managing to enjoy all the creature comforts of home. There was a loveseat, a desk with a computer, and a silver tea service on the coffee table with linen napkins arranged around it in an oddly precise manner. This crazy son of a bitch was living luxuriously, while his men and his prisoners suffered through days of torment and hard work.

  It was time, Delta decided, that General Zahn got what he deserved. He’d hurt so many people, both directly and indirectly. He was a Colombian in Costa Rica stealing gold that belonged to the Costa Ricans. He’d murdered countless innocent people and taken Shaman from the Bri. She wondered what other atrocities he’d committed in his degenerate life. It was time to end his reign of terror here in the jungle, and Delta felt up to the task.

  “Crazy bastard,” Delta said, quickly moving to the desk. The computer was not on, but the phone, which looked like something out of Star Trek, lay next to it. The thrill of seeing a phone sent chills up Delta’s spine. Finally, she could contact civilization.

  Snatching the receiver, Delta studied it for several seconds before pulling the antenna up and dialing the only thirteen numbers where she was absolutely certain someone else would be.

  The connection seemed to take forever as sweat dripped down her back and between her breasts. Tick, tick, tick. Delta kept away from the window and waited for an eternity. Finally, the phone on the other end rang.

  “River Valley Police Department. Sergeant McNeill speaking. How can I help you?” came the forced, cheery voice. Sergeant McNeill was anything but pleasant.

  Delta wanted to laugh. Well, for one, you could send in the U.S. Army and get me out of this mess, she thought.

  “Kim, it’s Delta Stevens.”

  “Delta? Where the hell are you? Everyone here has been sick with worry.”

  “Well, I’m alive. Listen, Kim, I don’t have time. Have you heard from Connie?”

  “She called the other day to tell us that you’d gotten lost in the jungle and you’d be needing some comp time. And then…”

  “Where is she?”

  “Where else? Still in Central America somewhere, looking for you. Where are you?”

  Before Delta could answer, the trailer door opened, and a very surprised General Zahn gaped at her as if she were an apparition. He looked at Delta; she looked at him, neither quite knowing what to do. Time stood still as they sized each other up like two territorial cougars. Zahn, however, made the first move.

  Removing his gun from its holster, he pointed it at Delta and said something in Spanish. When she didn’t respond, he tried English. “I see I have an intruder.”

  Delta looked at the gun and smiled before saying into the phone, “Tell Connie I believe the story about her uncle—” />
  Zahn pulled the hammer back. “Another word and you’re a dead woman.”

  With regret so deep she could feel it in her muscles, Delta pressed the zero and then hung up.

  Zahn motioned for Delta to move out from behind the desk. “Good. Before I kill you, you will tell me how you escaped.”

  Delta did not move. Her eyes swept from the gun to Zahn’s deeply tanned face. He wore a thick, dark mustache, which matched his equally abundant eyebrows. Dressed impeccably in a khaki uniform, he reminded Delta of a modern-day Pancho Villa.

  “Well?” Zahn raised the gun and pointed it at Delta’s face.

  Delta shrugged. “Escaped? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come away from the desk.” Zahn wagged the gun at her as he indicated that she should stand in front of the loveseat.

  Delta did as she was told, never taking her eyes off his face. Should she jump him and take her chances, or let this charade play out?

  “Who are you?” Zahn asked, sitting on the desk and motioning Delta to sit on the couch. It was a wise move on his part, since it put him in a physically superior position. He’d made her decision for her. She would have to play this out.

  “I’m Dr. Rivera from Stanford University, and you are?”

  “General Zahn, and I will ask the questions. What were you doing on my phone?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I was calling for help. I’m here with a biological team studying scarlet macaws, and I got separated from my group. I saw this trailer and was so glad to find a phone. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  Zahn’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Delta, and she knew he must have been weighing her words against his judgment.

  “How many others are out there?” he asked, lowering the gun. After all, he had nothing to fear from a female biologist.

  “There are only six of us, two biologists, one avian, one…”

  “How did you get past my guards?”

  “What guards?” Delta asked, all innocence.

  Zahn jumped up from the desk and opened the front door, shouting a litany of orders to a man who saluted before running off in the direction of the sentries.

  “They shall pay for their inattention,” Zahn said, more to himself than to her. Back at the desk, he laid the gun in his lap and continued his interrogation.

  “Who did you call?”

  “The University of Costa Rica’s Department of Biology.”

  Zahn picked up the phone and pressed redial. The only sound he heard was a single click.

  “I had to dial the extension number,” Delta explained, wiping the sweat from her lip.

  “What did you say to them?”

  “That I was lost and to radio the team that I was somewhere due north of our last research locale.”

  Zahn thought about the implications of this. “Your team has a radio?”

  Delta nodded. “Oh yes. All of the major researchers…”

  “Any weapons?”

  Delta cocked her head. This just might work. “Weapons? No, of course not. We’re biologists, General.”

  Suddenly, there came a loud, continuous pounding at the door. When the general answered it, the soldier he had dispatched was spewing Spanish like a punctured tire releases air. Zahn listened for a moment and then barked orders to the man who, in turn, sent half a dozen men scattering.

  “What is it?” Delta asked innocently.

  Zahn studied her for a second, and Delta knew he was trying to decide whether or not she, a woman, was capable of taking out two of his men. Her only hope, at this point, hinged on the predictability of the macho Latin American male. He would see her as a helpless woman lost in the jungle, not a veteran cop who, given equal circumstances, could kick his ass into tomorrow.

  “Where is your equipment, Doctor?”

  Delta sighed. “With the others. I got in a fight with another professor and went for a walk to cool off. That’s when I got lost.”

  “Two of my men are dead, and I find you on my phone. I find that coincidence a little too hard to believe.”

  “Surely, General, you don’t think one woman, a professor no less, is capable of killing two trained soldiers? I abhor violence in any form.”

  “Right now, I am not sure what I believe. Until I know for certain, you will remain in that room.”

  Delta tried to look astonished. “What? You’re not going to help me?”

  “Doctor, you have stumbled on a top secret military excursion. Highly classified. You understand, I’m sure. It is for your own safety as well.”

  Delta shrugged. The perspiration on her back had spread to her waist and down the back of her legs. “I suppose. How long before you can let me go? I mean, my colleagues will be worried.”

  “Until I see what happened to my men. Then, I will have you escorted out of here.”

  Delta wanted to laugh. She imagined her escort meant a bullet to the back of the head and a shallow grave. The only reason she wasn’t dead now was because the soldiers were scurrying around like army ants trying to find what had killed their two colleagues. Once the hubbub was over, she’d be tasting lead.

  Zahn opened a small second room, filled with boxes, canvas bags, and assorted scales. “You’ll be safe in here.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  “Do not try my patience, doctor. If all is as you say, then you will be free to go shortly.”

  “I don’t want to go shortly, I want to go now!”

  Slam. The door closed, and Delta quickly took survey of her windowless prison save for the small vent near the ceiling. She opened up each box and found nothing but paper work. Checking the door, Delta was surprised when it flew open to reveal another soldier.

  “Yes?”

  Delta smiled at the guard and retreated. “Uh, nada. Gracias.”

  Slam. The door closed for a second time. Okay, she was in a windowless room with an armed guard at the door and probably more surrounding the trailer. That was the bad news. The good news was she was still alive.

  Sitting on a large cardboard box, Delta looked down at her sweat-drenched clothes and covered her face with her hands.

  This was not how she’d anticipated her plan unfolding. Suddenly, Delta had the horrible feeling she’d just played her last card.

  Carducci threw a trump card on the table and took the trick. “Come to papa,” he said, grinning over at Taylor and Sal, who threw their cards at him.

  “Told you I was good,” he said, picking the cards up. “Connie, are you sure we should wait until morning?”

  Josh strode over from the window, where he’d been standing for more than an hour staring out at the jungle. “Ever been in a jungle?” he asked Carducci.

  “Nope.”

  “Ever been someplace unfamiliar and the lights went out?”

  “Yeah. Delta and I were on this call once in this field. There wasn’t a damn light anywhere. Even the moon was a no-show. She, of course, insisted that we not turn our flashlights on.”

  Connie chuckled. “She told me this story. You turned yours on, didn’t you?”

  Carducci nodded. “Yep, and damned if the perps didn’t shoot right at me. If Delta hadn’t taught me how to hold my flashlight away from my body, I’d have been history.”

  Connie looked over her cards. “That’s not the end of the story, Tony.”

  Tony started dealing another hand. “Well, it answered Josh’s question, didn’t it?”

  Taylor picked up the bait. “Oh, no, Tonikins. Do tell. What happened next?”

  Carducci glared over at Connie, who chuckled again. “Yes, Tony, do tell.”

  Carducci set his cards down. “I drew down, and Delta knocked my gun from my hand. I wanted to shoot the bastard. I was scared to death, man. It was the first time I’d ever been shot at.”

  Josh joined the group at the table and waited for the rest of the story. “I nearly crapped my pants the first time I was shot at.”

  Carducci ran his hand through his hair. “I
think I was more afraid of Delta’s wrath than being shot.” He continued dealing. “It was so dark, and they’d already taken a pot shot at us. I couldn’t believe she still wanted to move ahead.” Carducci shook his head at the memory. “But that’s Delta in a nutshell, isn’t it?”

  “More like nut case,” Taylor added, scooping up her cards.

  “Well, it seems Delta knew the woman who was shooting at us. Some homeless lady named Patty Packer, because she packs heat.”

  Taylor laughed. “Patty Packer? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Connie shook her head. “All of the homeless people on Del’s beat have nom de plumes. Most of which were given by her and Miles.”

  Carducci nodded. “Apparently, Patty had been raped a few years back, and so Miles gave her a piece he’d snagged from some drug dealer.”

  “What did she say when she realized it was Delta?”

  Carducci’s face started turning pink. “She apologized and said something about not thinking it was Delta, because she knew better than to turn her flashlight on in the middle of a dark field.”

  “Even the homeless have lessons to teach, eh, Tones?” Sal chipped in.

  “Was Delta mad?” Taylor asked.

  Carducci shook his head. “Nope. She just told me that that kind of luck runs out. That cops who rely on luck become prematurely familiar with their mortician.”

  Connie laughed. The words, though wise, were not originally Delta’s. Connie had said them to Delta one evening when Delta was a rookie herself, and had stormed her way into a situation where luck was the only ingredient that had kept her body intact.

  “Well, Tony,” Josh said, clapping Carducci on the shoulder, “that darkness is what it’s like in the jungle at night. We have a reasonably good chance of finding those assholes pretty quickly in the day, but at night, we run the risk of moving farther away than we are now.”

  “The waiting is killing me. I feel like we ought to be doing something.”

  Connie turned from the computer and smiled at Carducci. “We can’t risk it, Tony. We have to be smart about this.” Connie pressed the dial button and waited for the Internet server to tell her if she had mail. She did.