Shiva

by Carolyn McCray

  Easy to say when you were forty feet away.

  He was a little limited on options, though, so he did as instructed.

  The first step felt like a leap of faith. The second felt more like a prayer. The third was actually almost normal.

  But it wasn’t far enough. Not when another crocodile flew out of the water, aiming right for Brandt.

  A spear came out of nowhere, skewering the crocodile in the vulnerable underbelly. Just as quickly, the dark-skinned medicine man shoved the crocodile back into the river. Its body, grabbed by its breathren, pulled underwater.

  The hippo gave a glance over its shoulder, blinked twice, then went back to grazing. Just another day in Africa.

  Brandt stepped back carefully, making for the tree line as quickly as he could without angering the hippo. He wanted to make it into the jungle, but his adrenaline high gave out like a balloon let free. Stumbling a few steps, his butt hit the ground.

  Rebecca rushed to his side as the men fanned out, keeping a close eye on the grazing hippo.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Honestly,” Brandt asked as he lay back onto the cool ground, “hell if I know.”

  * * *

  Rebecca ripped open Brandt’s bloody shirt. So far, the red stains had been from other creatures’ blood. Not Brandt’s. He had a lump on the side of his head the size of a goose egg. A literal Canadian goose–sized egg. He had bruises up and down his side, but she could see the color coming back into his lips as he breathed in and out.

  The hippo, apparently not liking this much company for its foraging, slipped back into the water. Once submerged, the Congo looked as peaceful as a church. Forget the fourteen ways you could die in an instant. And they had weapons. And training. Rebecca tucked Vakasa tight under her arm. This jungle was no place for a little girl.

  “Thor,” Vakasa said, patting her forehead, then bowing deeply.

  Brandt smiled weakly. “Hey, kid.” He glanced around. “Where’s the medicine man?”

  “He disappeared back into the forest,” Rebecca answered, glad that Brandt seemed well oriented.

  He smiled again. “He has a habit of doing that.”

  She smoothed his sopping-wet hair down and kissed his forehead. “Yes, he does.”

  “Everyone else okay?” Brandt asked, although his eyelids had slid back down.

  “Yeah, babe,” Rebecca answered. “We’re knocked around, but good.”

  Brandt smiled faintly.

  “I mean, I don’t mean to be the downer here,” Talli said as the consummate downer, “but some of the Disciples must have survived on the other side. They aren’t going to wait around forever.”

  Levont grunted his approval. “Do we have an evac plan?”

  No one answered as the crickets sang their little hearts out.

  “But hey, on the bright side,” Lopez said, raising his camera, “I got it all on film!”

  CHAPTER 11

  ══════════════════

  Pentagon

  7:22 p.m. (EST)

  “The hack is on the inside,” the tech announced. Finally. “I mean, I hate to admit it, but Bunny is right.”

  Bunny knew she was right. It was the only thing that made sense. “Thanks…Tech.”

  “Stark,” the kid corrected. “And not Tony.”

  She snorted. “Of course not. I can only assume you take after the Farscape character. Season one. Episode nineteen.”

  The kid’s eyes dilated. Oh, he definitely batted for her team, and after that sci-fi geekery? Batted for her.

  Emily didn’t seem nearly as impressed, as she asked, “Which means the Disciples probably know that we know the hack is within the Pentagon’s servers?”

  The tech just nodded, pulling his fingers back from his keyboard as if the keys had suddenly become distasteful.

  “So even if we were able to get another satellite in position, we would be letting the Disciples know exactly where Brandt and the rest were?” Prenner asked.

  “Exactly where they were, yes,” Stark answered.

  “Okay, then,” Bunny said. “Plan B.”

  “Huh?” the tech said as only a teenager could. “Maybe you don’t get it. We are effectively neutered. Anything I do, the Disciples know.”

  Bunny grabbed her purse. “Exactly. Which is why we need to get out of here.”

  She turned on her heel-less shoe and walked out of the supposedly most secure place in the world. For all their shiny toys and high-tech gear, they could be breached just as easily as Troy had been by a wooden horse. No wonder Brandt went off the book so frequently.

  “Wait,” Prenner called out, trotting to catch up with her, “where do you think we are going?”

  “To go on a little shopping spree.”

  Prenner stepped in front of her, blocking her exit. “Not without a little more explanation.”

  Bunny studied the lieutenant’s features. He was handsome if you liked that chiseled-jaw “I was a star quarterback” kind of look. Which Bunny didn’t. His arrogant bluster had mellowed, though, into a more subtle “I hate losing power” kind of vibe.

  “How many years have you spent under the radar?” she asked him. “One? Two years?”

  Prenner’s lips formed a hard line.

  “I spent two and a half with Coti and another six months in Russia. I know a thing or two about laying low but getting the job done.”

  Emily caught up with them. “That she does.”

  Stark, who had his arms full of equipment, ran up, panting.

  Bunny shook her head. “You gotta let it go, dude.”

  “But—”

  “Anything that has even seen this building has got to go.”

  Both Emily and Prenner nodded.

  With tears at the edge of his eyelashes, Stark laid the components on a desk. “Good-bye, Lady Bug.” He patted his customized mouse good-bye.

  And people thought she loved her Prada a bit too much.

  “Where are we going?” Emily asked, with her trusty phone at the ready.

  “You’ll see,” Bunny said as she walked through the pressurized doors. The fewer people who knew what she was up to, the better.

  * * *

  Frellan favored his left ankle. A bit of shrapnel had dug its way next to the bone. Ugudo, perhaps relishing the chance, had been none too gentle in removing it. To think the girl had been just a short river crossing away. But he had seen the crocodile attacks. He had seen what happened to anyone foolhardy enough to enter the Congo River, especially at night.

  And given that what remained of his team was bloodied to their core, getting in that water was not an option. The only exception to their injured list was, of course, Mikhal. Besides his blond hair being a bit singed at the tips, the man looked like he had just walked out of their beloved sanctuary.

  There were rumors Mikhal was kissed by God’s graces. Frellan was unfortunately starting to believe such gossip.

  The burning village came into view as they reached the rutted, muddy road. Their transportation should be here within three hours. They could begin the hunt again. As they approached the huts, Frellan made out a lone figure standing vigil.

  Monnie.

  The watcher must have observed their descent toward the village, as she ran to meet them. Her eyes scanned the men, finding no Messiah with them.

  “Where is She?” Monnie asked, her tone tinged with recrimination.

  Frellan moved her hand, and she flinched. Clearly, she did not know him well enough. A slap would be juvenile. No, what he planned for her took far more maturity and especially patience.

  Instead, he took her hand, stroking the smooth skin. Such smooth skin. “She is just a river’s width away.” Imagining how easily it would be to drill through the finger joint. Her hand trembled in his. Tears streaking down her face. Monnie must have heard the rumors about him then. Frellan followed a vein as it crossed over the bone. “We shall retrieve her in the morning.”

  Monnie
snatched back her hand. “There is something you might want to see.”

  Wiping away her tears, Monnie turned and headed toward the heart of the village, which was nothing much more than a gathering of burned-out shacks.

  She ducked into one of the few structures still partially intact. The rough mud walls sloped inward due to the heat of the fire. Monnie pointed to the far wall. At first, Frellan did not understand why. It looked just like the other walls. Pocked and flawed by the villagers’ crude construction methods. Walls of mud.

  “Look more closely,” Monnie suggested, then took a quick step backward as he swung his frown toward her. She best learn not to order him about.

  Taking another step forward, Frellan realized there was tiny writing etched into the mottled surface. Some were scrawled in Aramaic. Some in French. Other letters were of Congonese origin. The sliding mud had mixed it all together until it was jibberish. He reached out a finger and traced the garbled words.

  This was the first documented writings of their Messiah.

  He looked back at Monnie. She dared not give voice to it, but he could hear her thoughts as clearly in his head as if she had spoken them.

  And you have destroyed them.

  Frellan would pay a price for such an act. But not yet. Not before he delivered the Messiah to the Master.

  * * *

  “Block the camera, would you?” Bunny asked Prenner. The man obliged by sliding in front of the ATM machine, his back to the lens.

  Bunny pulled out a bank card and pushed it into the slot. She rapidly cycled through the prompts to get cash.

  “They can easily trace that, you know,” Prenner said while scanning the street.

  “Back to Tori Rinklehouse?” Bunny countered. “I say go for it.”

  She could feel Prenner study her face. That was fine by her. Let him figure out she wasn’t some bubblegum-popping sorority girl. Well, at least not anymore. The last few years had changed her. And in moments like this, it felt like for the better.

  Bunny accepted the five hundred dollars the ATM spit out. She got out another card and repeated the process. Then again.

  Prenner frowned. “That’s a lot of stashed cash.”

  “Let’s just say I made a few ‘specialty films’ back in college.”

  The lieutenant’s eyebrow went up. Wouldn’t he like to know the exact nature of those. But alas, that was a story for another time.

  Grabbing the last of the cash, Bunny turned toward the car. Well, not actually a car, but a beat-up Gremlin. While there was no way to electronically follow that old of a car, it did kind of stand out in a crowd. Kind of like how Stark wanted it to. Thumbing his nose at the man, the whole while desperately wanting the man to notice him.

  An older model, neutral-colored Toyota pulled up to the curb. Emily. Now, this was a car that could blend in with traffic. And all without a backfire every quarter of a mile.

  “Oh man,” Stark pouted.

  Avoiding the ATM’s camera range, they climbed into the Toyota.

  Emily turned to Bunny. “Where to?”

  “Make a right, then two blocks later a left.”

  Within moments, they arrived at the rather sketchy-looking “used” electronics store. Every town had one. And DC? They were usually next to the bail bonds offices. The best part about them? While they had cameras and signs posted that they had video surveillance, they didn’t record a single second. Their patronage was not hot on being caught on camera.

  Which was fine by Bunny. Her foursome exited the car and entered the store.

  “I can’t use any of this,” Stark said with a sneer, not touching any of the merchandise it appeared for fear of catching a virus.

  Bunny ignored him and walked up to the unshaven clerk at the desk. “I am sure they have something a little more your speed.”

  The clerk picked something from his teeth. “No idea what you and the suits want, but you won’t find it here.”

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Bunny said as she pulled a wad of one hundred bills out. “We just need a few toys.”

  The clerk looked to Prenner, then Emily, then Bunny.

  “Come on, any arrest would be entrapment at this point,” Bunny encouraged.

  Finally, the guy looked down at the cash. Gotcha.

  He took out a huge ring of keys and unlocked a door behind him to reveal a room filled with gutted high-end electronics. “We’ve got just about everything, but you’ve got to rebuild it yourself.”

  Stark stared at the glut of electronica, his jaw slack. “There is a god.” The tech was so easy to please.

  She turned her attention back to the clerk. “I am going to need some disposable phones.”

  “How many?”

  “Twenty should do.”

  “Twenty?”

  Bunny nodded. “With international minutes, please.”

  As the clerk moved off, Prenner asked, “And what are you going to do with those?”

  She looked to Emily. “Are the rumors true?”

  Emily just gave that sly smile of hers.

  Bunny turned back to Prenner. “It looks like I’m going to call a friend.”

  * * *

  Brandt had stopped counting the injuries as he leaned heavily against a moss-laden tree. They were hiking north, striking for the border of the other Congo nation. More than likely, the Disciples had paid off this republic’s government generously. Another country all together? They could hope not.

  The going was slow, though. Everyone was banged up, and adrenaline only got you so far.

  A buzzing stopped the group in their tracks.

  “What the hell was that?” Lopez asked, looking around to the group.

  “What the hell is right,” Brandt rumbled. All electronics should have had their batteries pulled. For Christ’s sake, they were using a compass to guide them. Nobody better have a cell phone on them.

  Davidson pulled his pack off his shoulder. “It is the sat phone.”

  Brandt counted to ten. Seriously, on a mission of this sensitivity, the kid didn’t remember to pull the fucking battery out of their sat phone?

  “I gutted it, I swear,” Davidson said as he pulled the phone out. And sure enough, the battery backing was off and the battery was out. Still, somehow the phone was still vibrating in the sniper’s hand.

  “Look,” Talli said. “There’s a screw.”

  Davidson had the thing out within seconds. And there it was. A tiny crystal set into the body of the phone.

  “Damn, is that what I think it is?” Lopez asked.

  Levont nodded. “A photonic crystalline battery, yep.” The point man turned to Brandt. “Command really does love you guys. Those things are supposedly just theoretical.”

  Yet there it was, powering the most basic of the phone’s functions.

  “Would have been nice for them to tell us,” Brandt grumbled as he pushed off the tree.

  “What should we do?” Davidson asked.

  “I guess put the damned full battery back in and find out who is calling.”

  Davidson obliged and read the caller ID. “Looks like a burner phone.”

  “Might as well take it,” Brandt ordered.

  “Hello?” Davidson asked, then frowned as he pulled the phone from his ear to speak to the group. “It’s Bunny.”

  “Bunny?” Rebecca repeated, sounding as surprised as the rest of the group. She then said, “Sorry, just really? Bunny on the secret sat phone?” Louder, she added, “No offense, Bunny.”

  Davidson held out the phone. Brandt reached to take it, but the sniper shook his head. “No, she wanted to talk to Rebecca.”

  * * *

  “Me?” Rebecca repeated. Ugh, she hated it when she sounded like a parrot. But why in the world, with the seven of them stuck out in the jungle, would Bunny want to talk to her?

  Still, she accepted the phone from Davidson. “Hi?”

  “Is it her?” the tinny, statical voice asked.

  “Her who?” Rebecca ask
ed back. Was it just she was so damned tired, or was none of this making sense? It didn’t help that all the men were staring at her.

  There was a delay. Had they lost the connection?

  Then Bunny’s scratchy voice asked, “You know…the daughter. The one Moses was so worried about.”

  Rebecca’s brain shifted focus, away from the rain forest and back to the caves under the Dead Sea. The tablets that contained the Ten Commandments held so much more than references to civil behavior. Including a reference to a female Messiah.

  Now she understood why Bunny was being so cagey. She must have people on the other side listening in, just as Rebecca had her own audience. Bunny and she had resolved to never tell anyone of those passages.

  Still, Rebecca was clueless. “I have no idea.”

  “Have you even asked her?” Bunny demanded.

  “Asked who?” Rebecca answered, the exasperation of the last two days coming out in her tone.

  “The girl with you,” Bunny implored.

  Wait. What? Rebecca nearly dropped the phone. She sought out Vakasa, who was snuggled up against Brandt’s leg. Bunny couldn’t possibly be suggesting…

  No.

  That couldn’t be.

  “Rebecca?” Bunny asked, sounding farther away than the seven thousand miles that separated them.

  “Yeah,” she answered absently. The majority of her brain was working on the fact that Vakasa could be…well, the Messiah foretold all those millennia ago.

  “Think about it,” Bunny rushed on. “Why else would the Disciples be hot on your heels?”

  Vakasa being God’s daughter certainly did resolve several questions. However, it brought up like a million. Rebecca couldn’t even look Brandt in the eye as she talked.

  “I will have to get back to you on that,” Rebecca said.

  “Can I?” Brandt asked, holding his hand out for the phone.

  * * *

  Bunny listened as Rebecca and Brandt exchanged words. She couldn’t tell what they were, but it was pretty damned clear Brandt was none too happy. So Bunny wasn’t surprised when the sergeant’s voice came over the line.

  “I don’t know what is going on, which makes me just a little grumpy.”