Aftershock: A Donovan Nash Novel (A Donovan Nash Thriller)

by Philip Donlay

  “It’s a fact of life,” Buck replied. “I spoke with a friend who works security at the embassy. He says whatever we read about the crime and violence, in reality, it’s twice as bad. We’re going to have to deal with the added risk, and I can’t stress enough how careful we’re going to have to be while we’re on the ground.”

  “There was a young girl kidnapped six days ago,” William said. “She was taken in broad daylight, her armed escort gunned down. According to this, the police say there have been no ransom demands. Could there be any correlation to Stephanie’s abduction?”

  “Does this girl have a name? Is she Guatemalan?” Donovan asked.

  “It doesn’t say.”

  “It would be rare for kidnappers to grab more than one victim at a time,” Buck replied. “And just because no ransom was made public, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. The fact that she had an armed escort tells me that she was already at some risk. Considering where we’re headed, she could be the leverage for a drug deal, illegal weapons, or, as bad as it sounds, she could already be part of the illegal sex trade.”

  “I agree.” William quickly scanned the report in his hand and put the sheet on top of the small stack of things he’d already read; he didn’t say another word until he finished the last of the documents. He took off his reading glasses, then glanced up at the others. “Gentlemen, I think we should reconstruct events as best we can, take a detailed look at current conditions—political, criminal, as well as seismic. Here’s an update of the volcano activity, which I’m afraid could create some problems for us. Then we prioritize our immediate objectives.”

  Buck unfolded and then smoothed out a map on the table. He’d spent the last three months rehabbing cracked ribs and pulled muscles in his lower back. Not a large man, Buck was solid, always in shape, without an ounce of fat anywhere on his frame, though now it seemed he’d added a layer of muscle. Buck’s clean-shaven face appeared neutral and unthreatening, but as Donovan had seen firsthand, when his face tightened, his eyes filled with a quiet, vigilant determination that left no doubt as to his lethality. Donovan knew Eco-Watch was lucky to have him. The former SEAL represented a calm presence in the face of any situation. Though quite deadly, Buck would resort to violence only if needed. While William and Donovan moved in to get a closer look, Buck spun the map around so they wouldn’t have to read it upside down.

  Buck softly cleared his throat and then began. “Ms. VanGelder—Stephanie, if I may—had been photographing the volcanoes on the big island of Hawaii when she was made aware of the sudden eruption of Atitlán in Guatemala, at which point, she immediately departed Hawaii for Guatemala City. She changed planes at LAX, then flew into Guatemala City. She was met by Dr. Malcolm Lane, the senior USGS man there. He arranged transportation for her out to the small town of Panajachel, located here on the north side of Lake Atitlán. According to Dr. Lane, she was scheduled to arrive late, and the plan was for her to meet the two scientists Saturday morning for their trip up to the volcano.”

  “When was the last time anyone saw her?” Donovan asked.

  “That’s where the intelligence gets a little iffy.” Buck looked up from his notes. “The volcano has been fairly restless in the last thirty-six hours. Nothing big has happened, but there has been steam and ash venting from the mountain, as well as minor earthquakes. Almost all the population in that region is situated around the lake, and I read that the ‘at risk’ population is somewhere between fifty thousand to one hundred thousand people. Volcanoes are a part of life in Guatemala, but the proximity of this eruption to the lake has spooked the locals enough that there’s been a large exodus from the area. Anyone in the area who might have seen Stephanie could be anywhere by now.”

  “Once we land in Guatemala City, how soon are we going to be able to get to that area?” Donovan glanced down at his watch. In his mind it was the logical first step. He looked at Buck for the answer, but the former SEAL seemed to be waiting for William to speak.

  “We’re going to have to tread a little softly, I think,” William said. “Like we discussed last night, stealth is going to be our biggest tool. You and Buck need to move behind the scenes, try not to draw attention to yourselves. Once you meet the USGS team, I’m sure opportunities to venture out to the volcano will present themselves. As far as anyone on the ground knows, you’re both members of Eco-Watch, not part of the cavalry riding in to rescue my niece.”

  “Understood, sir,” Buck replied in his clipped military manner.

  Donovan exhaled heavily, frustrated with all the posturing and diplomacy. His lack of patience wasn’t doing him any favors. “Show me where they found the bodies.”

  Buck quickly pointed to a spot on the map. “It’s a small clearing on the side of the mountain right about here.”

  “How did they get there?” Donovan continued. “What was their route?”

  “She and the USGS team went by boat from Panajachel to Santiago Atitlán, located here.” Buck slid his finger along the map. “From there, they rode by truck to the trail head and trekked in a generally southeastern direction to the coordinates they’d chosen to install a seismograph. When the equipment didn’t come online, the USGS notified the Guatemalan authorities, who then sent out a search party.”

  “Who got there first and what exactly did they find?”

  “The Guatemalan police,” Buck quickly riffled through his notes. “The Guatemalan army was forced out of that area years ago due to atrocities committed by their troops. I have a report of those specific events for you to read if you’re interested. As to what they found I have the following: They recovered the destroyed equipment that the USGS team was going to install, it was strewn in the forest. They also found four spent shell casings, 7.62 millimeter. They found some blood, which led them to the shallow graves of the three victims. The bodies were then brought back to Guatemala City.”

  “Four bullets fired, three bodies,” Donovan said. “Either they were very good marksmen, or they opened fire at close range. Do the police have any theories at all?”

  “I thought about that too,” Buck said. “The shell casings are a common caliber, easy to get, usually found in automatic weapons, which could make the enemy some sort of paramilitary operation, or drug smugglers. The police haven’t offered up any suspects, but I don’t think we’re dealing with a random act here. I think whoever did this are professionals and the act was premeditated.”

  “Does that make this situation better or worse?” William asked.

  “In my mind, better,” Buck said without hesitation. “If Stephanie has been captured by professionals, then they’ll keep her alive and follow one of several scenarios to get money for her safe return. I’d rather be up against a somewhat predictable enemy than rank amateurs.”

  “But, if it was premeditated,” William interjected, “how did they know Stephanie was coming? Her arrival was rather spontaneous.”

  “That’s a part of this puzzle that I find troubling.” Buck rubbed his chin as he considered the question. “If the group is organized, they might have connections inside the airlines, or even Guatemalan immigration. It wouldn’t take them very long to run a check on all prospective visitors, see if there was a target of interest on the manifest. Unfortunately, Ms. VanGelder’s reputation may have preceded her.”

  “Because she’s my niece?” William replied, his voice faltering momentarily. “You think they singled her out because she’s related to me and my assets?”

  “It’s highly possible,” Buck replied. “She’s also a noted photojournalist in her own right, so her name alone may have sparked a closer look. It didn’t take me very long online to discover she was related to you and connected to considerable wealth. We have to assume that they could have easily accomplished the same thing.”

  “So, we can’t trust anyone?” Donovan asked. He could tell from the grim expression on William’s face that he needed a moment to collect himself.

  “Until proven otherwise,” Buck said. “
Everyone should be viewed as a potential threat.”

  “Even the USGS?” Donovan asked, knowing that everyone connected with Eco-Watch would be in close contact with the scientists on scene.

  “Everyone,” Buck said without emotion.

  “We know William’s arrival will be news, but what about the two of us?” Donovan asked. “If we’re followed the minute we hit the ground, then what good are we going to be?”

  “My guess is they’re hoping William will show up,” Buck answered calmly. “In fact, if he didn’t, they might lose interest. His presence gives them incentive to keep playing the game. As for you and me, I’m hoping they take a look and decide we are what we say we are, members of Eco-Watch. When Michael shows up with the Galileo, that will further cement our cover.”

  “I trust William will be well protected.” Donovan needed to hear that his closest friend wasn’t in any danger from the people they were seeking.

  “Of course,” Buck replied. “Embassy security is always tightened when someone of Mr. VanGelder’s stature arrives. He’ll have a twenty-four-hour armed detachment guarding him. I’m confident that he’ll be well protected.”

  “What about the rest of the Eco-Watch personnel?” Donovan thought of Michael and the other crew.

  “They’ll have armed drivers taking them to and from the airport. As far as the hotel goes, we’re all staying at the Camino Real. It’s close to the airport, and we’ve reserved a block of rooms that are set aside for visiting VIPs. Again, security will be provided by the embassy, and everyone we’ve just spoken about will have rooms within the designated perimeter. I have full confidence in the plan to protect our people.” Buck’s eyes narrowed and he looked squarely at Donovan. “Everyone except you.”

  “What about me?” Donovan recoiled slightly.

  “I want to be straight up about this. I know how you operate, I’ve seen it firsthand. You’re smart, resourceful, brave, and impulsive. The problem is that you dive in headfirst and make it up as you go. We’re in the equivalent of a shooting war; my area of expertise, not yours. I can already tell you’re chomping at the bit to kick ass and take names. Wrong approach. I want to make perfectly clear that when a situation goes fluid and we need a measured response, you follow me—not the other way around.”

  Everything Buck had just said was true and made perfect sense, but Donovan knew he wasn’t going to operate differently. Buck knew that as well. “I’ll do my best.”

  “I’d appreciate that, and when you disregard everything I’ve just said, I hope you at least consider that you were warned. I can’t keep you alive if I’m bringing up the rear.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  They began their descent into Guatemala City. The last hour of the flight passed in silence, all three engrossed in their thoughts. Donovan couldn’t help but be struck by the criminal climate in Guatemala. It reminded him of 1930s Chicago—gangs, robberies, and running machine-gun battles. The tone of the report had a special emphasis on the number of kidnappings, and spoke of sophisticated weaponry and massive amounts of force used to extort, kidnap, and kill. Despite ransom demands being met, the victims were often killed. Many of the victims were foreigners, though the report was careful not to point at a trend toward targeting Americans, only that the appearance of wealth might be enough to trigger abduction. Donovan thought of the section that dealt with sexual assaults. The number of attacks was disturbing, and he knew that a huge percentage of sexual assaults go unreported, so the number was even higher. The fact that Stephanie was being held against her will in the hands of a nameless, lawless group generated nausea, followed by unbridled frustration and anger. Nothing in his world was more difficult that being unable to use all of his resources to help someone he cared about.

  Donovan looked out the window and saw small cumulus clouds floating in the distance. Later in the day the heat would create lift, and they’d grow into large thunderstorms. Every day, from noon well into the evening, held the chance of a localized downpour—it was the rainy season in Central America. Far to the west, just peeking up above the layer of haze, were three distinct volcanic peaks. One of them was throwing up a plume of steam and ash that rose far up into the atmosphere. His first glimpse of Atitlán.

  The Boeing descended into the clouds, and Donovan couldn’t see anything outside the small window. Turbulence nibbled at the plane, and Donovan paid close attention to the sounds that spoke to him as a pilot. The whine of the flaps being set, the distinctive thump of the landing gear as all three struts swung into position. Donovan understood they were less than four minutes from touchdown.

  Glimpses of green and brown were visible through the ragged bases of the clouds. Donovan found small shacks and buildings, tiny houses clinging precariously to hillsides. A low-hanging smudge of black smoke covered the city. As they descended, he could actually smell the city, a faint, yet pungent, odor. What came to mind was part landfill mixed with auto exhaust. Donovan felt a hollow pit in his stomach as they touched down and turned off the runway at La Aurora International Airport. This place had the same feel and smell of Costa Rica.

  Donovan barely noticed the plane had come to a stop and the pilots had shut down the engines. Buck was up and out of his seat, scanning the perimeter outside the airplane. Donovan saw a Mercedes and two dark Suburbans pull up to the left side of the 737. Six men in suits jumped out and took defensive positions around the vehicles.

  “Looks good. I recognize their faces from the advance report. They’re embassy staff.” Buck picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, then gestured for both William and Donovan to go ahead of him.

  “I’ll see you later at the hotel,” Donovan spoke over William’s shoulder as they neared the door. “Stay in touch, maybe we’ll have a chance to have a late dinner or at least a drink.”

  William nodded, seemingly distracted by all the fanfare.

  At the foot of the steps there was a flurry of handshakes as introductions were made. Donovan hung back from the bulk of the activity, letting William and Buck both speak with Ambassador Richardson. Donovan breathed deeply, noting the thinness of the air. Guatemala City sat almost a mile above sea level. Due to the altitude, it was surprisingly cool, so he didn’t feel overly warm in his sports coat. Even though it was overcast, Donovan slid on his sunglasses and watched closely as their luggage was transferred from the plane to the SUVs. He paid particular attention to the two metal cases containing the four million dollars.

  William slid into the Mercedes with the ambassador, and it sped away being tailed by one of the SUVs. Above the noise of a departing airplane, Buck introduced a slender, almost elegant man. “Donovan, this is Dr. Malcolm Lane. He’s the lead man down here with the USGS. Dr. Lane, this is Donovan Nash.”

  Donovan shook Lane’s hand, surprised that such a firm grip would come from the rail-thin scientist. Donovan had read in one of William’s dossiers that Malcolm Lane was a noted volcanologist, who’d spent nearly his entire professional life studying the volcanoes that ranged from Mexico all the way south to the tip of Argentina. Lane was nearly bald, half-moon glasses were perched midway down his smallish nose, a measured smile seemed frozen on his face. The volcanologist wore creased khaki slacks and a denim shirt with USGS emblazoned across the left pocket.

  “Dr. Lane. Nice to meet you, I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “Please, call me Malcolm. Yes, it’s been a very difficult time. We’ve lost people before. When you study volcanoes for a living, something’s bound to happen eventually. But we’ve never lost people as senselessly as this. There will be plenty of time to discuss that later. Right now, I’d like to say what a pleasure it is to finally meet you. Your reputation among scientific circles is well deserved. I can’t thank you and Eco-Watch enough for bringing in your equipment and expertise at the last minute. You’re a godsend.”

  “No thanks necessary, we’re all on the same team,” Donovan replied, trying to shrug off the kind words. From long-established p
atterns, Donovan always tried to avoid being singled out or put in the spotlight. “So, where are we with Scimitar? Has it arrived yet from California?”

  “It arrived yesterday,” Malcolm replied with unconcealed enthusiasm. “A private cargo jet flew in the Scimitar, as well as Professor Murakami and his staff. They also brought in equipment we weren’t expecting. We’ve set up our entire operations center in the hangar over there. Would you like to take a look now?”

  Donovan was more than curious what extra equipment had been added to the manifest. He’d been privy to the specs on Scimitar for nearly two years. The project’s funding had come in large part from an Eco-Watch grant given to the University of Hawaii, which, in conjunction with NOAA and the USGS, had developed the remarkable aircraft.

  “I’d love to see the Scimitar.” Donovan couldn’t help but be impressed with Lane’s enthusiasm. Donovan was also curious about Professor Benjamin Murakami, the brains behind Scimitar. A tenured professor at the University of Hawaii, Murakami had delved into the problems of gathering data from active volcanoes using a highly modified Predator UAV, or unmanned aerial vehicle. Donovan had been skeptical at first, as a pilot with over 12,000 hours of flight experience, he knew he probably harbored a built-in bias about planes without pilots, but the technology was very real and had a proven record. After learning more about what Murakami was trying to do, Donovan had approved the funding for the project. Murakami had been ingenious, blending off-the-shelf technologies to create a revolutionary aircraft that could withstand not only the heat, but also the extremely corrosive properties of the volcanic ash cloud. This represented the first actual trial for the Scimitar involving an active volcano.