by Robyn Nyx
“Is this thing the best you can afford?” Chase didn’t bother to conceal her incredulity. They needed something to last a couple of weeks at least.
Tonyck rolled her eyes. “What’s the matter, princess? Not luxurious enough for you?”
Chase clenched her fists deep in the pockets of her cargo pants. “I was thinking of you, actually. I don’t see any mirrors for you to fix your makeup.”
Rayne stepped between her and Chase. “We don’t want to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves.”
“Banditos!” Pablo called from his position amidst the electrics.
“The bandits around here are ruthless, and they’ll take whatever they can get their hands on.” Rayne pulled a dirty tarp over their bags and packs. “You don’t want to be stripped naked and tied up, do you, Chase?” She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows. “Or do you?”
Ginn laughed and clapped Chase on her back hard enough to make her stumble forward. She barely caught herself from falling headlong into the boat. Heat to rival the ambient temperature crawled up her neck and onto her face.
“Aww, you’ve made her blush. The quiet little archeologist likes it rough.” Ginn kept laughing. “If all the paracord goes missing, we’ll know where to look first.”
Chase stepped into the boat and stuffed her bags beneath the tarp without response. She dropped onto one of the few canvas-covered flat cushions on the side of the boat and pulled out the laminated paper copy of the map, along with a topographic map of the area. Pablo rocked back on his knees and tapped on the second map with a nail-less finger and traced a huge circle around the region they were about to venture into. Chase wondered if his nail had been removed during torture by the gold prospectors.
“All of this used to be protected,” he said before he turned back to whatever pressing maintenance he was doing beneath the steering wheel.
Effi, their guide, plopped down beside Chase and looked at the map over her shoulder.
“Over thirty thousand square miles of land inhabited by the uncontacted tribes. While the FUNAI is in flux, it’s open season on everyone. Drug traffickers, loggers, gold prospectors. All types of ruffians are like kids given the keys to the candy shop. The flecheiros and the caceteiros have their work cut out trying to stop the invasion of brancos.”
“Caceteiros? I’ve heard of flecheiros, arrow people, but not caceteiros.” Chase shuffled away from Effi a little. The oppressive heat wrapped around like a woolen blanket, and the nearness of another body increased her discomfort.
“Head bashers,” Effi said matter-of-factly. “People have no other language to describe them other than how they kill people.”
“Delightful.” Rayne tossed Chase and Effi a banana each. “Keeps the cramps away.”
“Thanks, Rayne.” Chase peeled the fruit and devoured it in three bites. It was the first fresh thing she’d eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. She contemplated Effi’s observation and began to speculate how many other ways of murdering intruders the Amazon aborigines had. Was it possible that they were all offshoots of the same tribe, only distinguished by their methods of massacring marauders? She hoped that Effi had a sound grasp of languages other than English and Brazilian Portuguese. Chase studied Portuguese and had a workable understanding of Tupi-Guarani. Over forty languages sat under the Tupi-Guarani umbrella, so Chase’s knowledge gave her a better than average chance of making herself understood. Chase’s and Effi’s combined communication skills might be all that would stand between them and getting their heads caved-in.
“How do you know so much about the area, Effi?” Chase put Effi in her late thirties, and she spoke as if she’d attended college in the US such was her level of English.
“I was a sertanista in FUNAI for over a decade. I worked alongside Alejo Rocha and his son for two years. I learned more in that time than in all my previous years.”
She looked wistful, and there was a sadness behind her eyes that Chase figured came from Rocha’s brutal end. Effi couldn’t have been there when it happened because everyone in the base at the time had been butchered.
“I was in a party of five who’d gone back to Tabatinga for vital supplies.” Effi looked beyond Chase, beyond the forest, recollecting the memory. “We came back to a horror movie. Limbs separated from their bodies. Headless colleagues. Torsos hacked into pieces. But the worst had been saved for Alejo and his son. They were nailed to the wall, gutted with their insides outside.” Effi shuddered and scratched at the back of her shaved head. “That image is seared onto my eyeballs. I see it every night when I try to sleep.”
The boat’s engine kicked in and disturbed the gentle silence that seemed to have fallen around them from the moment Effi began to recount the horrific attack. Chase wondered if Effi was in the right headspace for this expedition. Her mentor had been slaughtered just two months ago, and they’d be passing by the scene as they progressed along the Itaquaì. This trip would be difficult enough without losing their guide before they’d really begun. “Are you going to be okay?” Chase had to put it out there. The lives of everyone in the boat might depend on it.
“You want to know if I’m traumatized and whether I’ll go crazy when we revisit the place where it all happened?” Effi nudged Chase’s thigh with her knee but didn’t wait for an answer. “You have nothing to worry about, my friend. Out here, I have seen it all. My colleagues have also been murdered by the very people we tried to protect, not just the brancos and others who seek to exploit our resources. What I have seen only makes me more determined to continue Alejo’s work. There is much fear now and much lawlessness.” Effi smiled and the fading sunlight shadowed her face, giving her an angelic outline. “We are already recovering, and outposts are once again being manned. FUNAI will rise from the ashes of its headquarters, and we will fight again. This land will once again be protected.” She nudged Chase once more. “In the meantime, it’s your job to keep our most vulnerable people safe.”
Chase nodded as the solemnity of Effi’s words settled on her conscience. No pressure then. Pablo gunned the boat upriver and the engine grunted against the current. Chase slid down in her seat, pulled her ball cap down low over her forehead, and closed her aching eyes that were so heavy they hurt from the lack of sleep over the past day and a half. Effi’s words echoed as she slipped into welcome slumber…It’s your job to keep our people safe. Chase had every intention of living up to Effi’s expectations. And to Rayne’s.
Chapter Thirteen
Chase looked calm and peaceful sleeping. Rayne marveled at her ability to switch off whenever she needed to, irrespective of surroundings, noise, or situation. With the constant drone of the outboard and Pablo’s incessant babbling, Rayne had no chance of resting her mind or body. It didn’t matter how many meditation classes she took, Rayne needed complete silence and darkness to sleep. Ginn had taken the opportunity to rest too, and Tonyck took first watch at the boat’s bow. She scanned the shores and white beaches in timed sections, her eyes never stopping unless something drew her attention. She rested her AK47 on her legs, but her right hand and trigger finger stayed in ready position. Her unwavering alertness, even after nearly forty hours without sleep, comforted Rayne. She felt safer than ever with the sisters by her side.
Her gaze wandered back to Chase. She made Rayne feel safe in a different way, safe in her soul. She wouldn’t ever share that with Chase. No doubt she would think Rayne was playing her for a fool. But whenever Chase was around, it was as if she’d caught hold of Rayne’s leg and was keeping her from floating away, from losing herself, losing sight of who she really was.
Chase impressed Rayne with how she’d handled herself at the bar. She’d summarily dispatched one of Nicolai’s henchwomen and made it look relatively easy. Chase must have taken a punch or two, but she hadn’t mentioned it and showed no signs of any pain. Rayne would have jumped at the chance of a closer inspection to ensure Chase was still healthy, had it arisen.
Effi caught her appraising Chase and grinned as if
they’d shared a private joke. Rayne didn’t look away. She wanted Effi to grasp that Chase was off limits to her. She’d already shown far too much interest in Chase for Rayne’s liking, and Chase had looked far too interested in Effi’s history. Rayne shouldn’t be trying to figure out if Chase was interested in Effi, or vice versa. She had no legitimate claim to Chase’s affections. In the cold light of their history, she was probably the last person in the boat Chase would be interested in. Who Chase might or might not want in her bed shouldn’t even be on Rayne’s mind. They were seeking the legendary Golden Trinity; every switchback in the river had perilous potential; the tribespeople they were trying to protect might try to kill them; and by now, Turner and Owen were undoubtedly picking up their trail. Any one of those things should be occupying her immediate thoughts, but instead, Rayne’s concerns circuited her relationship with Chase.
She had no idea why and how Chase had burrowed into her head and wouldn’t go away. Was Rayne so used to getting her own way that Chase’s refusal to be a transitory lover had tripped something in her head that simply had to make it happen? Part of her wanted to believe that shallow and frivolous explanation which suited Rayne’s lifestyle. It wasn’t like Rayne’s every waking thought and moment revolved around Chase. It was mostly a case of out of sight, out of mind, but when Rayne stepped out of living in the moment, when she gave herself time to process and contemplatively reflect on her life…those were the occasions when thoughts of Chase were prominent.
And maybe she’d been a ridiculous cliché when she’d betrayed Chase in favor of a different life with Lauren Young. Maybe she’d self-sabotaged any semblance of a future with Chase because she had felt herself falling into a one-way love affair. On those isolated periods when she analyzed their interactions, she knew that Chase simply didn’t see her, not in the way Rayne wanted her to. Rayne’s overly sexual way of being embarrassed Chase. Some days, Rayne would deduce that Chase was being obtuse, not seeing what was right in front of her and not reacting as she otherwise would. If only she realized. Other days, Rayne would accept that she just wasn’t Chase’s type, and perhaps their early interactions had sealed Rayne permanently and immovably into friendship territory. And after Rayne’s betrayal, enemy status.
“Why don’t you get some shut-eye, Rayne?”
Tonyck’s question was almost lost over the clamorous cacophony of the outboard in its unceasing conflict against the current. Rayne ran her hand over her face and yawned involuntarily at the mention of sleep. The sun had ducked behind the forest and only a fading rose band, reluctant to rest, hovered above the forest line. The boat’s mounted spotlight was the only other illumination, and the dense forest looked dark as the devil and just as foreboding. She joined Tonyck at her self-instigated sentry station.
“I need silence to sleep. Ginn and Pablo are talking like they’ve got to put the whole world to rights before the next sunrise.” Rayne had packed her Bose Sleepbuds, but they were no match for human and engine noise, and topping out all were the animal calls she was too tired to distinguish or name.
“I can shut her up, easy…if you actually wanted to sleep.”
Tonyck narrowed her eyes the way she did when she knew there was more at play.
“We covered our tracks as well as we could, didn’t we?” Rayne had been thinking about Turner and Owen since Chase had asked about them. It had set her wondering how big a team he’d assemble. She’d settled on fifteen. It wasn’t an educated guess. She just didn’t want to think there could be more.
“You know the answer to that. When someone who looks like you travels anywhere, people see you. They’re not looking for you, but they can’t help it. And you’re hard to forget. So when someone else starts asking questions, they’re easy to answer.” Tonyck shrugged and traced her finger along the barrel of her rifle. “We bribed the people we could bribe. We bought loyalty where it was for sale. But we’ve passed through two major cities and a boomtown. We’re all pale faces in South America, even with your impeccable tan, and we’ve been in a fistfight in what I’d only loosely describe as a bar. So far, this hasn’t been a trip where we can—”
“You’re not making me feel much better. Your pep talk kinda sucks.” Rayne pushed her shoulder against Tonyck’s, and they laughed. “Does it get better?”
“My pep talk or our future?”
“Either. Both.” Rayne sighed and rested her elbows on her knees. “We’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” The question had been circling her consciousness since they’d left Turner tied up in his penthouse suite and hightailed it from the hotel with the two thousand-year-old-plus map.
“You’re not worried that you’re doing the wrong thing,” Tonyck whispered, seemingly aware that they were sharing a conversation Rayne wouldn’t have with anyone else on the boat for various reasons. “You’re worried that what you’re doing might get everyone here killed.”
Rayne tutted and shook her head, but it convinced neither Tonyck nor herself. “I thought soldiers were supposed to be dumb-ass robots who just follow orders and don’t think for themselves?”
“The clue’s in the name: Special Forces.” Tonyck put her hand beneath Rayne’s chin and lifted it. “Everybody here believes in what you’re trying to do here, Rayne. You know?”
Rayne offered a tight-lipped smile but didn’t affirm Tonyck’s statement.
Tonyck lifted Rayne’s chin farther so that Rayne had to look at her. “More than that,” Tonyck said, “everyone here believes in you.”
Rayne closed her eyes against the soft burn of threatening tears. Tonyck’s words meant more to Rayne than she would ever know. She’d wanted her parents to believe in her for so long, and they never did. In her twenties, she’d wanted anyone to believe in her, but that never happened either. In this decade of her life, she thought she’d managed to outgrow the naïve notion. Yet, here it was again. Rayne wasn’t sure she deserved their faith. She was trying to do several things with this expedition, and some of them were mutually exclusive. Her initial and primary goal was to prove the Golden Trinity existed by locating and discovering it. Oh, how she wished it had remained that simple. Why couldn’t Turner have been a nice, genuine philanthropist instead of a psychotic would-be murderer? Without that twist, she wouldn’t have been forced to recruit Chase. But that consequence held its own advantages. And a serious disadvantage. Chase wanted any find to be properly catalogued and gifted to the Brazilian government. A government that had recently reduced its funding to FUNAI and offered ten million square feet of Amazon to loggers and gold prospectors. What was the alternative? The uncontacted tribes didn’t need millions of dollars worth of gold…unless they could use it to buy their homeland once and for all.
And there was the little matter of the glory. This would be the find of the millennium, not just the century. A treasure unequalled in value. A historical find that would seal Rayne’s reputation and legacy. If the legends were true, Rayne would be able to name her price for every future job.
Where did Chase fit in? Her expertise was going to be vital to interpret the map. She hadn’t wanted to admit that its vast array of symbols and colors had her second-guessing her interpretations. Even before Turner announced himself to be a ruthless genocidal maniac, Rayne had been racking her brains to figure out whose expertise she could call on, because she was damn sure Chase wouldn’t have helped. Rayne had lured her here with the lore of the Golden Trinity and the added altruistic goal of saving the lives of hundreds of uncontacted tribespeople. But Rayne hadn’t been completely honest. The thought of all that treasure going to a museum was unimaginable, and she had no intention of letting that happen.
Tonyck nudged her gently and she opened her eyes. The rebellious band of light had succumbed to the darkness, and now the sky was alight with stars. She tugged her lightweight jacket closed and zipped it up.
“You okay?”
Rayne nodded. “Sure. I’m just not used to this hero role.”
Tonyck chuckled. “More
like antihero. I’m not sure your motivations are pure enough to qualify for hero status.” She motioned to Chase, still sleeping and still looking incredibly cute. “I think that little shit is the hero of this story.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Rayne did like the idea of Chase being the hero, and she knew that’s what Chase wanted to be, was even born to be. All those action movies she watched, the new, stronger physique she’d been building, her ever-present sense of morality, of what was right and wrong. Chase didn’t quite know it yet, didn’t quite believe in herself enough, but she was hero material to her core. “But where does that leave you and Ginn?” Rayne was enjoying thinking of their adventure as a story, something to tell her kids at night, not that she’d ever have any. It made it seem less real, less frightening. She could go back to facing the stark and dangerous reality of what they were doing when the sun bid them good morning.
“I guess we’re sidekicks—your sidekicks,” Tonyck added quickly. “I’m not taking orders from mini Gertrude Bell over there.”
Rayne laughed quietly. Chase would love being compared to the famous writer and archeologist, though her opposition to women’s suffrage was an ugly blot that didn’t apply to Chase. “Like Hawkeye to Black Widow?”
“More like…whoever it was who stands at Loki’s side when he was fucking with Thor.” Tonyck chuckled. “You’d make a great goddess of mischief.”
“Would that mean Chase is Thor?” Rayne grinned and pulled her hood over her head to give more protection from the hungry insects she could see dancing in the boat’s spotlight. “I think she’d look weird with long, flowing hair. But she’d smash his Ragnarok style.” Rayne’s mind drifted to placing Chase in Thor’s outfit, all metal breastplate and muscular biceps. Happy place.