Alpha Threat

by Ron Smoak

  “We need to make only a few miles before we make camp for the night. I need to check in again with Ben,” Randall told Manolo as they began following what looked like an old trail. “This trail must be one used by the locals, although not lately.”

  “This trail very old. Not used in very long time,” remarked Manolo, looking around intently for any trace of any type of trail use. “I not sure where it goes or where it comes from. It started from nowhere. This very hard to understand. ”

  “Interesting,” said Randall. “Comes out of nowhere and goes wherever. Let’s follow it for a while and see where it takes us.”

  “Yes, Dr. Randall,” answered Manolo quietly, although now it was clear he was becoming a bit more concerned with the jungle around them than before.

  After a few hours along the trail, the group came upon a small clearing about ten feet in diameter. Many people would have missed the marker but not Randall.

  “Wait a minute!” yelled Randall as he stopped, stepping off of the trail and approaching the low, vine-covered stone column. “What have we here,” he asked rhetorically as Dana and a few of the others walked over to see what he was so excited to see. It was clearly a man-made marker of some kind.

  “Is that what I think it may be?” asked Dana, leaping over Randall to get a better view. “It is definitely an old marker of some type and it has been here quite a while.”

  Both were now kneeling in front of the small rock column a little less than three feet tall. Randall and Manolo cleared the vines so they could get a better view. What they thought was a single stone column was actually made from several stones stacked together. There was one very interesting characteristic to the stone, though. The rocks that made up the column were finely chiseled and fit together very tightly. Several faded symbols or letters were chiseled in the stone.

  “I swear if I did not know any better this looks very Incan. But this is not an area that the Incas were known to roam; too far inland,” said Randall, trying to make some kind of meaning out of their finding.

  “Wait a minute,” added Dana. “This has to be a modern marker of some sort made to look old. None of the indigenous tribes in this area have the skill to make this.” She ran her hand across one of several indentions on the stones. In her mind she was definitely having a hard time envisioning where this originated. Her curiosity and knowledge of the area were clashing and there was no immediate answer that made sense.

  “The stone cuts are very specific. And the fit between the stones is remarkable,” said Dana inquisitively. “You can’t even get a piece of dental floss between those stones.”

  “I have never seen anything like it,” said Randall. “Manolo, where are the cameras?”

  Manolo turned to one of his men and within a minute the Finleys’ camera bag was produced. Dana took one of the three Nikon D700s from the bag and began taking pictures of the stone column. She was very thorough in her recording of this seemingly unexplainable monument. She paid particular attention to the faint markings, hoping to be able to decipher them later. Randall simply sat there in front of the stone making notes in his notebook, trying ever so hard to make sense of what they had found. The two Finleys were truly perplexed by their find.

  The remainder of the group now settled into the small clearing, put down their packs and sat down. Randall turned to Manolo and told him to make camp over on the other side of the clearing opposite from the column. He also told him to send a few men out to see if there was water nearby. Then he turned his attention back to Dana and the column.

  As Manolo and his men began to set up camp, the men in black continued to watch. In the jungle there were more men in black moving silently about them. The men waited as a predator waiting on its prey, sizing up the group.

  After a few minutes one of Manolo’s men ran back into the clearing. He excitedly reported something to Manolo. The man’s arms were waving and he was pointing into the jungle.

  “What’s he saying?” asked Randall.

  “He says there are people out there.”

  “Where…tell him to show me… are they natives?” Randall was clearly excited as well. They could be scouts from the tribe the Finleys had been looking to contact. Dana stood listening intently. She checked her camera. She thought maybe she could get a few pictures of these people. The other men were mumbling to each other and backing away from the stone, hiding in the jungle bushes at the edge of the clearing.

  The man continued his diatribe as Manolo tried to calm him and ask him Randall’s questions.

  “He says the men are not native. They have black clothes and carry machine guns. This is not good, Dr. Randall. I don’t know these men.”

  Randall’s eyes widened as he looked at Dana. “Shit, we may have stumbled on some guerilla unit or, worse, some drug smugglers.” He turned to Manolo. “Tell the men to get their packs and let’s back out of here while we can. I’ll call Ben and let him know what is going on.”

  The group quickly grabbed their equipment and packs and took off running back down the trail. After about a mile everyone was ready to collapse.

  “Wait, Randall,” gasped Dana. “We have to stop. I can’t run anymore.” Everyone was spent. Running through the Brazilian jungle is not easy, especially in 100% humidity and 100+ degree heat.

  “Okay. Let’s stop over here,” said Randall gasping for air. “Over behind those palms. We can hide in the lower fronds.”

  They all collapsed behind the low fronds of several small palms. They hid like their lives depended on it.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sunday, July 3, 2011

  Deep in the Amazon Jungle; 6:00 p.m.

  The group lay under cover for well over an hour but it felt like days. They made as little noise as possible. Randall thought about sending another of Manolo’s men out to scout but decided to lie low until dark. They listened intently. All they could hear was the myriad of jungle noises. While that was disconcerting to a degree, Randall was glad he had not heard sounds of men searching the area. With the light quickly fading, he decided to try to move again, this time under the cover of darkness.

  “Manolo,” Randall whispered. “Get everybody ready to move. We are going to go back down the trail from where we came.”

  “Senhor Randall, it is night coming soon. We should not be moving in the dark. Too many night creatures come out at night,” Manolo explained.

  Manolo was right. The jungle at night was a very different place than during daylight hours. Not only was it dark, but many nocturnal predators come out at night to hunt for food. The jungle was dangerous during the day; the jungle at night was exponentially more dangerous. Both Manolo and the Finleys knew their chances of survival were far better during daylight. They also knew that at night in the jungle they fell much lower on the food chain.

  “You want to try to trek back down the trail at night?” asked Dana quietly. “I don’t hear anyone moving around. I think they are gone. Let’s set up camp here and regroup in the morning. Moving at night is probably not our best bet.”

  “No; we have to pull back now. We can’t be sure they are still out there. If we can get away from here, we can check with Ben. We are overdue now and need to let them know what’s happened. Manolo, let’s get going.”

  Manolo gathered his men and told them what was going on. A few of them were not happy at all about walking through the jungle at night. But after Manolo’s insistence, they picked up their loads and started down the trail.

  The group had lamps but Randall told everyone to do the best they could in the dark. They were following a trail they had come up earlier. That was an advantage. Still, it was hard to see. Even with a full moon the jungle floor was very dark. Very little moonlight filtered down through the trees. The good news was that they had not seen nor heard anything out of the norm and after an hour and a half they had gone about two miles.

  “Let’s stop here,” said Randall quietly. They were in a clearing slightly off of the trail. “Manolo
set up camp. No fires. No talking. And bring the radio equipment over here.” Manolo nodded in agreement and set off to get his men started on the campsite.

  “Oh,” squeaked Dana as she quickly moved over by Randall.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” he inquired quietly.

  “Snake,” she said quickly but quietly. “There was a big snake crawling beside me.”

  “That’s okay. Don’t worry about the big ones. It’s the small ones that bite. We will probably see more snakes tonight without a fire,” he said. She was not consoled.

  “Can’t we have a small fire to help keep the animals away?”

  Randall put his arms around her. “No, babe. We can’t afford to light a fire tonight. Out here it will be a beacon to anyone that wants to find us. Manolo will have camp ready in a few minutes. The tent will keep the varmints out.”

  Manolo walked over with the radio equipment and antenna. He motioned to one of his men to set up the antenna while Randall began connecting the radio connections on top of his pack as he sat on the ground. Within five minutes you could hear the crackling and sizzle of the speaker static. Randall winced at the sound. Although he had the volume turned down low, the static sounded like it was as loud as a jet engine. Now Randall wished he had brought along the headphones.

  “Finley Expedition to Base, Finley Expedition to Base. Come in Finley Base. Over…” Randall said quietly as to not be heard all over the jungle. They waited for an answer in the hiss of static.

  “Finley Expedition, this is Finley Base here. Where the hell have you guys been, Randall?” It was Ben’s voice and he was clearly upset. “We have been calling you for hours. Over…”

  “Ben. We’ve had a bit of a problem. It seems we have run across a small group of soldiers or something out here. We’ve managed to avoid direct contact but we don’t know if they saw us. Over…”

  “Soldiers? Any idea of who they are? Over...”

  “Not a clue. They were dressed in black fatigues and armed with automatic weapons so I think they could be a local army. Over...”

  “I’ll check with the authorities immediately. There are not supposed to be others in your area except for a few natives. Are you sure they weren’t natives? Over…”

  “Ben, we are almost positive they weren’t indigenous tribes. One of Manolo’s men saw them and was able to get away and come back to us. We hid in the jungle for a while and then retreated about two miles back down the trail we came in on. Right now we are camping in the dark. Over…”

  “Roger that, Randall. That was a good move. Wait until morning and see what you have and call me. In the meantime I will check with the local army and figure out what to do. Over...”

  “Sounds like a plan, Ben,” said Randall. “We’ll try to get some rest and get back to you tomorrow morning. Are you getting my GPS info? Over...”

  “I have your position info and have plotted it. Be careful and take care of Dana. I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning. Over…and out.”

  “Roger, Finley Base Camp, Finley Expedition out.”

  Randall put the microphone down and looked at Dana. She was scared. So was he. He decided to leave the radio set up in case they needed it fast. Randall did disconnect one of the battery leads to conserve power. It was so dark now Randall had trouble seeing Dana beside him. But it was imperative they stay put hoping whoever it was out there would give up on them and go away. At least that is what Randall hoped. Manolo crept over to the Finleys startling Dana.

  “One of my men says he hears someone behind us,” whispered Manolo as he placed a hand on Randall’s arm. “Is not an animal. It is men. Could be many more out there waiting.”

  Damn, thought Randall. What the hell do they want? He grabbed Manolo by the arm and turned to Dana.

  “You stay here. I’ll be back in one minute.” He crawled away from Dana with Manolo right beside him. He wanted to get out of earshot of Dana. They crawled about ten feet away close to two of Manolo’s men. The two men were cowering under a low bush, not making a sound. They were scared to death.

  Randall turned to Manolo and whispered, “Get one of your best guys to move away from us over to our right. Let’s say twenty to thirty meters. Tell him to circle back behind us to see if he can find who is out there.”

  “I cannot do that,” said Manolo quietly, his voice shaking. “It is too dangerous.”

  “Then what do you want to do? Sit here until they decide to come in and take us all? Not me. If we can find out exactly how many there are and where they are, we may be able to sneak out later tonight.” Randall stopped and listened.

  The jungle was a cacophony of sound. The cicadas were screeching and the tree frogs were crying for their mates. The noise was almost deafening. A calm, steady rain began to fall, adding to the natural background noise. With the symphony of sounds it might be possible to sneak away.

  Manolo thought for a few seconds. “Okay. I send a man out. When he comes back we try to get away. By dawn we can be far, far away from this place.”

  Randall was still scared but felt a bit better now that they had a plan. Randall crept back over to Dana. Manolo crept away searching for his best man, his brother, Tula.

  Dana pulled a rain poncho over her head. She heard Randall seconds before he appeared beside her. She reached out and clutched his arm.

  “What’s happening?” she said, moving as close to him as she could.

  “Okay, we have a plan,” said Randall quietly, digging into his pack for a poncho. “Manolo is sending out one of his best men to scout around and try to pinpoint where these people are or, more importantly, where they aren’t. Then we will try to slip out and head back toward base camp. If all goes well, we will be several miles away from here and safe. But until then we have to sit tight and wait in the rain.”

  “Oh, Randall, I’m scared,” said Dana, her voice quivering as if she were at the North Pole, not the Amazon. The rain caused a slight chill in the air. “What if it doesn’t work?”

  “It has to work. That’s all there is to it.”

  Dana’s mind was racing. Sweat poured down her back. The jungle noise made it much worse. Now here was the rain. The constant whine of the cicadas and tree frogs drilled into her mind. Why couldn’t they shut up? If they would be quiet, maybe they could hear the men out there and slip away.

  She had never been in this type of a situation. She’d run across several Amazon tribes in her time but most were curious, especially when white people came into their midst. This was different, very different. The group could be in danger, not only for their well-being but their lives. She wondered what would happen if these men caught them. Would they kill them outright or would they drag them back to their lair and hold them for ransom? Or would they kill the men and rape her repeatedly and turn her into their slave? Hundreds of horrible to unthinkable scenarios ricocheted through her mind. None were good, none. She grabbed Randall’s arm and squeezed it so hard that what nails she had dug into his arm.

  “Hey!” he yowled quietly. “What are you trying to do to me?” he said looking at her. He saw Dana’s face grimaced with fear. This was fear he’d never seen in her before. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She started to sob. “It will be all right. Manolo will get us out of this and we’ll laugh about it back at base in a few days.” She buried her head into his chest as he looked out into the darkness. The rain shower was slacking up. He hoped he was right. Damn, he hoped he was right.

  Manolo crawled across the area communicating with each of the men in the group. He finally found his brother, Tula. He explained what was going on and their plan. Tula was not impressed. He told Manolo that they had heard at least three people in the area around them. But he had not heard anyone in the past thirty minutes. It seemed the men were trying to wait them out. After about three minutes of agitated but quiet conversation, Tula agreed to scout an escape route. Manolo crept back to where he had left the Finleys.

  He told the Finleys Tula was heading out and
would be back as soon as possible. Randall thanked Manolo with a big smile and a reassuring pat on the back. Then they all hunkered down waiting on the next move. The rain stopped.

  Tula had heard the men over behind the group and to the left. He crept out to the right slowly but surely through the heavy jungle underbrush. An experienced jungle guide himself, Tula knew how to move about the jungle without making much noise. The wet ground helped muffle his footsteps. He listened to the background noise and in his mind set a volume level he could meet and still not be heard over the jungle sounds.

  Tula was now twenty meters away from the group. He neither saw nor heard anything. He found ants and many other insects out on their nocturnal feeding and travel operations. He stopped and listened intently, filtering out the jungle sounds as best he could. He heard nothing out of the ordinary. He continued moving out and away from the others. At about thirty-five meters Tula stopped again and plotted his circle back to his right. He moved a few meters and then stopped to check for any other movement that might tell him someone else may have heard him moving. Now fifteen meters back to his left he still had not seen nor heard anything leading him to believe there was someone out there. He decided to stop one last time.

  Something moved ahead. Was it an animal or a man? His experience told him that the largest animal in this area was a small leopard that hunted exclusively at night. But he knew the cat was a very stealthy hunter. If Tula could hear the cat, then its prey could hear the cat. No, what he had heard was not a normal jungle sound. There was someone out there. But they seemed to be moving away from him about ten meters ahead. He sat and listened as the man sounds moved away. Soon he heard nothing.

  Tula waited ten more minutes without hearing the men and then backtracked to the group. He waited until he was within sight of one of Manolo’s other men before he called quietly to them. Tula found Manolo and both scurried over to the Finleys.

  “Tula says the men are gone. They moved over to our right and moved away,” he explained as he waved his arm in the direction the men seemed to have gone. “We can move out to our left a bit and rejoin the trail a mile or so back. We will be safe then.”