Tenderloin (Abby Kane FBI Thriller)

by Ty Hutchinson

  The three women took another moment to poke, and prod, and compare breasts, all while giggling. I felt like an idiot standing there while they innocently felt me up. It wasn’t until one of them revealed a large wooden bowl and started slathering red mud on me, that I realized their intentions. I hate to disappoint the elders, but I am not walking out of this hut with only a thin layer of mud covering my naked body. I drew the line and put my clothes back on.

  As soon as I exited, ten women, clapping in rhythm while they sang, greeted me. Eight of them encircled me while the other two led the pack. I guessed it was to keep me out of view, though they weren’t much taller than I was. I strained my neck for a glimpse at what was happening beyond them. I hadn’t any idea what was going to happen next. Rapau had told me it would be fast and painless, but I wasn’t convinced. He forgot to mention that I might have to be nude, so I had to wonder what else he wasn’t telling me.

  From what I managed to see, the men of the village had gathered around a large bonfire. It was hard not to think I was being served up as the sacrificial virgin. Ha! Joke’s on them.

  Slowly, we made our way toward the fire. More and more villagers gathered, all clapping and singing as they watched me parade by. The men had begun a dance of some sort around the fire. We waited until they finished, and then our group continued until I was on the other side of the fire. I had by then lost sight of Cabrera and Rapau, and I suddenly felt alone in my circle. When the women surrounding me broke away, I saw in front of me three shriveled and frail men sitting cross-legged on the ground: the elders.

  One of the women guided me to a spot on the mat, opposite the old men, and motioned for me to sit. The three elders smiled at me, showing off their tiny teeth. There was warmth in their eyes, and the tension I had felt earlier slowly melted away. The middle one picked up a gourd and motioned to his mouth, like he was drinking it, and then offered it to me. I hope that’s not something funky like bat spit or snake urine.

  I took the container from him and lifted it to my mouth. I inhaled, but whatever was inside didn’t have much of a smell. Here goes nothing. I tilted the gourd back slowly until a tiny bit of liquid spilled into my mouth. It had a strong bite to it, like sour milk with a bitter aftertaste. That tiny amount gave me the feeling that all the saliva in my mouth had evaporated. Okay, I’ve taken a sip. Are we finished? But the elder reached out and tipped the gourd more, flooding my mouth. I figured a long chug might satisfy them. Wrong. Each time I thought I was done, they pushed the gourd back up to my mouth. I finally got the message. I had to finish all of it. Suck it up, Abby. Pretend it’s Jameson. I did, and eventually I managed to get it all down.

  What I wasn’t expecting next was for the world to go spinning out of control. Whatever it was that I drank turned my head into a wooden dreidel on autopilot that wobbled every so often. I tried to shake it off and gain my composure, but it was as if I had no control over my body; my legs didn’t work, and my arms weren’t listening. There was mutiny aboard the Abby Kane, and she was headed for a wreck.

  Chapter 25

  Elan slipped quietly through the front door of his apartment, closing and locking it behind himself. Warm light from a table lamp spread throughout the small but comfortable living room, enough to prevent him from hitting his shin against the edge of a glass coffee table. He hung his jacket on the wooden coatrack and set his briefcase down next to it as he always did. He kicked off his shoes, leaving his socks on, and moved toward the leather recliner where a young woman lay sleeping. Her head was turned to the side, and her thick brown locks fanned out across her caramel skin. Elan stared at her for few seconds, watching her chest rise slightly with each breath. The soft glow from the lamp lit her in the most beautiful of ways, highlighting her delicate nose, her full cheekbones, and her ample chest. He bent down and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. Before he could turn away, her hand grabbed hold of his arm.

  “Is that you, Elan?” she asked, her eyes still very much closed, and her head still turned to the side.

  “Yes, dear, it’s me,” he said, patting her hand gently. “Go back to sleep.” Too late. He watched a smile form and her eyes open.

  “I kept a plate warm for you,” she said, sitting up.

  “Please, dear, I can get it. You relax.”

  But before he could finish his sentence, his wife, Adriana, stood up and moved to the kitchen, where she removed a foil-covered plate from the oven and placed it on the table with a fork and spoon. “Sit, Elan. You must be hungry,” she said, pouring a beer into a glass for him.

  Elan gave her a proper kiss before taking a seat. “I’m sorry I’m home so late.”

  She removed the foil and took a seat next to him. “You’ve been working so hard lately.”

  “Indeed.” Elan scooped a spoonful of rice and beans into his mouth. The taste awakened his mouth, and he quickly shoveled in a few more bites. He turned to his wife as he swallowed. “We made a breakthrough.”

  Adriana’s eyes lit up. “You did? Tell me; what did my wonderful husband discover?”

  “Not only did we figure out the original recipe for the drug, but it appears we have nearly perfected it.”

  Adriana squealed and threw her arms around her husband. “This is wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”

  Not wanting to be a party pooper about Malcolm’s condition, he stuck to the positive. “We still have tests to do, so it’s not one hundred percent—”

  “Of course.”

  “But what we’ve seen so far… It’s unbelievable. The strength tests are off the charts. Endurance levels are far beyond what we imagined. And Adriana, the best part is, the chimp is smarter. Julio and I were concerned we would have no control, no way to communicate, but the early signs are that it’s possible.”

  Adriana once again threw her arms around her husband as he tried to scoop more of his meal into his mouth. “I always knew you could do it,” she said before smothering him with tiny playful kisses.

  Later that night, after Elan had finished eating, the two lay in bed further discussing the news of the day. Adrianna had snuggled up to Elan, content to listen and play with the hairs on his chest.

  “So what happens next?” she asked.

  “Julio is anxious to share our results with Faro.”

  “That’s a good thing, no?”

  “I would prefer to do more testing. It’s the large amounts of progress that worries me and makes me want to tread cautiously. Knowing what happened in the past, we have surely tested his patience, and there is no room for any more mistakes.”

  “But he is alive, the chimp you tested?”

  “He had fallen ill, but we gave him a second round of injections today, and he seemed to recover almost immediately.”

  Adrianna nuzzled Elan’s neck. “What do you have to worry about? You’ll be fine. Faro will be happy with the progress.”

  Elan turned to his wife. Her big, brown eyes stared back at him. Her plump lips were slightly pouty. “You always have faith in me.”

  “Of course. You are a brilliant man. Everyone knows that.”

  If only your brother, Faro, shared your enthusiasm.

  Chapter 26

  Elan arrived at the lab early the following morning to get a head start. Always the conservative one, he didn’t believe he and his brother were ready for human trials. Julio, on the other hand, couldn’t have been any more confident that they were doing the right thing. He had tired of the continuous testing on the chimps after three rounds. In his opinion, the subjects were still alive; therefore, they were ready.

  Elan pleaded with his brother as he tightened a strap. “Why don’t we wait at least a week to see how Malcolm #69 has fared? He seems to be recovering after yesterday’s injection.”

  “Exactly. So why wait?”

  Julio carried a tray with two steel surgical syringes and two cartridges filled with a yellow liquid. “Plus, we don’t have a week. Don’t you understand that? If Señor Zapata returns and sees that we h
ave not made further progress, I’m afraid…”

  “Afraid of what? He needs us.”

  “Yes, but he doesn’t need our friends or our family.”

  “You don’t think he would hurt them.”

  “He is capable of doing anything to get what he wants.” Julio loaded a cartridge into the syringe and flicked it with his finger. His eyes followed the bubbles as they rose.

  Elan took a deep breath as he moved his head back. Condensation developed along the inside edges of his goggles, forcing him to slip them off and wipe them dry with the surgical gown he wore.

  Julio had finished readying both syringes and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. The test subject had been given a muscle relaxer earlier. He was conscious but capable of nothing more than lying quietly in a daze. That said, the brothers still took no chances and had used leather straps to secure the man to the metal table.

  “Brother,” Julio called out, “are you ready?”

  Elan nodded and pulled open the mouth of the drowsy test subject and inserted a mouth prop. Julio moved forward with a syringe, spewing a few drops before driving the needle into the roof of his mouth, right behind the top superior teeth. They both watched the yellow liquid disappear from the body of the syringe. As soon as it was gone, he removed the needle and administered a second shot. When he finished, the brothers stared at each other for a moment; they had taken a huge step forward in their research.

  They had done human testing in the past though their test subject died between the one-and two-hour marks. Malcolm #69, their most recent chimp, had the most success of any subject to date. He didn’t deteriorate right away like the others, and they were able to monitor his strength and intelligence. They watched him play with a twelve-pound bowling ball as if it were a balloon filled with helium. He also managed to rip a hanging tire from its chain and proceeded to tear it in half.

  His energy levels were off the charts. It appeared as though he could continue a single act for as long as he wanted. They eventually recorded Malcolm #69 jumping in place for four hours straight. Only when food was delivered did he stop.

  But what was most promising and most exciting was that he appeared to be controllable. And that was the most important step forward. Julio had high hopes for the human.

  Elan grabbed the tray holding the syringes and followed his brother out of the room. From the outside near the observation window, they watched and waited with great interest as the drug worked its way through the young man’s body. Would Malcolm #70 be the success they’d worked so hard for? The Ortegas could only watch and wait. Two minutes had passed, enough time for the drug to take effect, but still the man lay silently without movement. Julio flicked his thumb against his forefinger, a nervous tic he’d had since childhood. Elan swallowed and adjusted the safety glasses on his face.

  “Wait, brother,” Elan said. “Give it time.”

  No sooner he had spoken than the young man started to twitch.

  Chapter 27

  I awoke the next morning in a hut, lying on a cot with a thin blanket covering me. I sort of expected a headache but instead felt fine and rested. I quickly lifted the blanket to determine what state of dress I was in. Clothed, except for my shoes. Whew.

  A moment later, Cabrera poked his head in. “Good morning, sleepy head.”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s eight. Time for you to get up.”

  “What happened?”

  “Don’t you remember?”

  “Well, I remember the ceremony and drinking from the gourd. After that, nothing.”

  “That, my friend, was the tribe’s version of moonshine.”

  “Moonshine?”

  “Yeah, it’s made from a root that I can’t recall, but it’s fermented for a few weeks with some fruit for flavor—”

  “Fruit for flavor? Could have fooled me.”

  “It’s harmless, but too much of it will knock you on your butt.”

  “I’m guessing that’s what happened to me.”

  “That and more. You danced, you sang, you pretended you were a shaolin priest here to avenge your master.”

  I laughed and discovered that my head hurt slightly after all. “I didn’t do that. You’re lying.”

  “I am,” he said laughing, “but you did sing and dance a lot. And I’ll be honest; it’s a good thing you’re good at your day job.”

  It was embarrassing to hear Cabrera tell me this. At what point did our professional demeanor get thrown out the window? We were agents of the US government here to investigate a case, not to partake in a tribe’s version of a house party serving jungle juice.

  “Look, don’t worry. For the most part, you behaved yourself and acted as expected for anyone who drank as much as you did.”

  I was embarrassed and wanted nothing else but to move on from that subject. “Promise me this doesn’t leave the jungle.”

  Cabrera made the sign of a cross over his chest. “Promise.”

  “Where’s Rapau?” I asked.

  “Rapau is meeting with the elders.”

  I sat there quietly, unsure of what to do next.

  “You could probably use a bath.”

  My body perked up. Good idea! Bath was the magic word. I was dying to wash off the layers of jungle that had collected on my body.

  “I didn’t realize they had showers, but I’m dying for one. Where is the bathroom? It’s not communal is it?”

  Cabrera chuckled. “I guess you could say it’s communal. Come on. Gather your things, and I’ll take you there.” Cabrera left my hut, and I lay there thinking this was a joke, but he didn’t poke his head back in. I wrapped the blanket around me and grabbed my soap and shampoo. A shared bathroom was better than no bathroom.

  A few minutes later, I found myself standing on the banks of a nearby river. “Don’t tell me we have to cross this to get to the bathroom.”

  “Nope, the river is the bathroom, bath, shower, spa… whatever you want it to be,” he laughed.

  The river was lazy and slow flowing. I certainly wasn’t afraid of being swept away by rough under currents or being bashed into a large rock. Surprisingly, the water was fairly clear and not like the silt-laden pictures of the Amazon River we often see. Still, I was nervous. “I am not taking a bath in that. How do I know there aren’t piranhas or alligators in there?”

  “First off, it’s a myth that piranhas eat humans. Secondly, they don’t have alligators here. They have caimans.”

  “Cai-whats?”

  “Black caimans. They’re like a crocodile but much more vicious. But I’ve been told that none have been seen along this river for months.”

  That’s not what I wanted to hear. Cabrera continued to flash his stupid, handsome smile. I could only imagine what I looked like, and his constant joking had started to irritate me. “So now what? I’m supposed to trust that I won’t get eaten?”

  “Yeah, I’ll show you it’s safe,” he said as he bent over to untie his boots. “You’ll be fine, Abby. Relax.”

  One by one, he flung them off. Next came the shirt. I’ll admit, I visually molested his toned chest and washboard abdomen. All of it was committed to memory, even how the hair on his chest perfectly swirled around each developed pectoral, only then to gather and form a cute little trail leading down the middle of his firm stomach and disappear behind the waistband of his shorts. It might have appeared as if I ogled him like a smitten, teen girl, but I didn’t. I’m a detective at heart, and my ability to take in all the details quickly is a skill I developed over the years.

  That’s exactly what happened: objective observation. I wasn’t interested in Cabrera. Nope, not even a little.

  He walked to the river as he fumbled with his zipper.

  “You’re really going into the river?” I asked.

  “Sure am. It’s the only way you’re going to feel safe. Plus, I could use a bath,” he said as his shorts and boxers fell to the ground as one, leaving his bare ass staring back at me. It didn’t help
that the tan marks made it pop. With every step he took, I watched the muscle in each cheek ripple until he finally dived into the river. Again, my detective skills had automatically kicked in, forcing me to take in the details of his tight behind in that brief moment. It’s torture being this good.

  I was sticky, itched, and probably had started to smell. There was no avoiding the river.

  “Come in, Abby,” Cabrera shouted as he swam farther out. “It’s completely safe. I was joking with you earlier.”

  When in Rome… I walked up to the riverbank and stuck a toe in. It was warm. “Turn around,” I shouted.

  Cabrera laughed and spun around. I took a quick look around for any villagers before letting the blanket fall to the ground. I slipped out of my clothes quickly and tiptoed into the river. A few steps like Cabrera did, then I dived. I was surprised by how deep and warm the river was, so I stayed close to the bank where my feet could touch bottom while I still had enough water for cover. I won’t kid you when it I say it took a lot not to scream out every time I felt movement around my legs. I kept telling myself it was tiny cute fish.

  I threw a bar of soap at Cabrera. I then poured a generous helping of shampoo into my hand and proceeded to wash my hair.

  “You’re the first person I know to bring shampoo into the jungle.”

  I smiled and continued to wash. I had to rinse and repeat three times before my hair felt squeaky clean. I chucked the bottle over to him, and he responded with the bar of soap.