“All military units are known for let’s say ‘fudging’ their after-action reports. Special Forces, though? Theirs are nicknamed ‘time-savers’ since they save the redactors all that precious ink blacking out parts that will never see the light of day.”
“Can you give me an example?” she asked, still not quite understanding how any of this was going to help save Rebeca and the rest.
Prenner pulled out a specific file. The one that covered their time chasing after the Ten Commandments tablets. “Did Brandt describe everything that happened in this?”
Bunny snorted. Hell, no. The indoor helicopter incident? Where Lopez stole a Russian military helicopter? Not very likely. The lack of Talli’s sniper skills? Completely missing. The report was more a general gist kind of document rather than giving the actual blow-by-blow.
“It looks like you are getting where I’m headed,” the lieutenant stated.
She didn’t bother answering him. Instead, she dug through the pages, trying to find the ones that had bugged her. The ones that seemed incomplete.
* * *
Rebecca watched the snake’s forked tongue flicker.
An African rock python.
Genus: python. Species: sebae, if she weren’t mistaken. And mistaken she wished she could be. The rock python was the largest of all African snakes, and that damned tongue of its was forked to increase the surface area so that it could more easily detect tropotaxins. Chemical cues that prey was around.
Basically, if exhaustion had a smell, Rebecca was doused in it. The snake probably tasted an easy meal on the horizon. She had nearly been squeezed to death by a cousin of its in Ecuador and really did not want to relive the experience. However, as the metal clasps of the parachute’s harness refused to budge, Rebecca feared a repeat performance. Especially since she had been watching the damn snake for about five minutes and had yet to see its tail. It was really annoying that she knew the snake could be as long as twenty feet and could easily consume her, tattered wedding dress and all.
Even if she somehow got out of the tangled harness, there was still that nasty twenty-foot drop. Although, right about now, she would take a broken leg over suffocation via python.
Not a great Plan B, however.
As a branch snapped as the snake coiled itself around the parachute, working out its crushing muscles, Rebecca worked frantically on the latch. She understood that they didn’t want you falling out of the parachute at thousand feet up, but seriously, did they have to jungle-proof it?
The buzz of insects, so many insects, rang in her ears as if they were cheering the python on. Not that it needed much incentive. Side to side, it winded its way down the parachute, that tongue testing the air. Making sure she was still an easy mark.
One of the latches finally gave way, taking an acrylic nail with it. She slipped through one of the loops, dropping a good foot. The snake must have sensed its meal getting away, as it sprang open its jaws, striking toward her. Rebecca ducked as its head flew past her. Undeterred, the snake swung back, pulling itself back for another strike. It hadn’t spent the last half hour climbing this damned tree to let her go so easily.
Frantic, Rebecca worked at the other carbine, spinning the lock until it, too, released. Just as the python reared back for another, Rebecca threw herself forward. The scales of the snake’s head slide past her arm, leaving a trail of python saliva on her skin.
Caught by her leg, Rebecca dangled upside down, pointed toward the jungle floor. Tangled in the rigging, Rebecca really wished she’d done all that “core body” conditioning Bunny bragged so much about. But seriously, who would have thought she would need that kind of muscle strength to escape a python? Bunny probably could have folded herself over and pulled her body weight up to extract herself from the harness.
The best Rebecca could do, however, was keep from puking as she swayed above the lush underbrush. Mr. Python wasn’t taking this development lying down, either. His body squeezed the rigging above her so tightly that even if she had Bunny’s abs, Rebecca probably couldn’t get her leg out now.
Then the insects silenced. Like all at once. The only sounds left were her pounding pulse and the crinkle of the parachute as it was crushed within the python’s coils. Maybe the insects didn’t have the stomach for what came next, after all.
Blood rushing to her head, Rebecca thought her vision was blurring when she saw movement to the right. But there it was again. Could the men have found her?
“Davidson!” she cried. Dear God, could the cavalry really be here?
Then a stick hit her in the head. What the hell?
The source of the projectile charged out of the dense brush directly beneath her. A chimpanzee. Not one, but a whole troupe of chimpanzees. And apparently really pissed-off chimpanzees.
Face heating up and her leg throbbing, Rebecca was really annoyed that she knew there were two species of chimps. One that warred and one that lived in communal harmony. Of course, man evolved from the war ones. And apparently these chimps were pretty ticked off at their descendant. They hooted and shook the underbrush.
But usually, even these chimps weren’t so aggressive. Rebecca guessed it was that earthquake last week. Between it and the aftershocks, the animals were on edge. Territorial. Deadly.
The snake’s head slid across her foot, its tongue flickering across her skin, apparently making sure that she tasted as good as she smelled.
Snake above. Mad apes below.
This day really couldn’t get much better. Rebecca could only hope the men were faring better than she.
* * *
“We’re so screwed,” Lopez whispered.
Davidson couldn’t argue. Not as he watched through his sniper scope the trail of men tracking through the jungle. This was not how this was supposed to go down. The Disciples were supposed to be in open-air vehicles. They were supposed to pull up, en masse, to the center of the village. The kill zone that Davidson and Talli had set up. Then on Lopez’s order, the shooting was supposed to begin.
Under the cover of that fire, Lopez was going to speed in with the beat-up Pajeros he’d “borrowed” and whisk Brandt out of there. They would then all meet at the rally point five clicks north.
That plan clearly had to be scraped. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any easy alternative. The Disciples’ mercenaries were spread out far and wide, many hidden deep within the thick foliage. Davidson had counted eight already, and who knew how many others were out there? He hadn’t even spotted Brandt yet.
And traveling on foot, the enemy was going to be far more vigilant than they would have been in a vehicle. Tracking through the jungle, they had to be.
Water dripped from the ridge of Davidson’s nose, onto his rifle, and down the long barrel. The cloud burst had been short but had dropped nearly half an inch of water. Puddles pocked the road through the village as mist clung to the mountainside. The Disciples must have lost their vehicle, then taken to the jungle to avoid the downpour.
Each event making their job of extracting Brandt all the harder.
A splash announced Talli’s arrival. “What are we going to do?”
Davidson looked to Lopez. The corporal’s lips turned down. Which was not their usual direction. As a matter of fact, it was weird to see Lopez with a frown on his face.
“We really need some thermal imaging,” Talli stated, nodding to the forest where the only way you knew men were out there was by the sway of the branches.
Lopez snorted. “Yeah, let’s call Command and say, ‘Hey, I know we went AWOL and all, but what the heck, since we are in Africa, how about you give us some tactical support?’”
Talli looked down and away, but Davidson saw the edge of Lopez’s lip turn upward.
“Why don’t we?” Davidson suggested.
“What do you mean?” Talli asked
Lopez, though, pulled his radio out of his pack. “He means we’ve gone AWOL. Why the hell don’t we ask for tactical help? The worst they could do is say no.”
“Or use the transcript against us at our court martial,” Talli added.
“Or that,” Lopez said as he shrugged, dialing the phone.
* * *
There was one thing that had bugged Bunny while reviewing the files. Two things, actually, but she had to find the first. Bunny couldn’t articulate the vague sense of unease she felt. But now that they were trying to prove a negative, Bunny knew she’d found something. Finally, she found the page. It detailed Brandt’s extraction from the Congo.
“Why didn’t they hit their first extraction window?” Bunny asked. She had noticed that fact before but really hadn’t cared about it. Why should she? Now, though? It was of paramount importance because the after-action report was completely silent about the cause.
Prenner shrugged as he searched through the files. “Looks like they just said they couldn’t make the window and requested a secondary pickup.”
“And nobody found that weird?” Bunny chuckled. “That delay cost them nearly thirty-six hours. Brandt missed his rehearsal dinner because of it.”
She didn’t even wait for Prenner’s response. Instead, she dug through the report to find the third page. Another fact had nagged at her. Bunny found the paragraph.
“A girl, along with her caregiver, provided intel on the location of the rebellion’s base.” When Bunny looked up, Emily and Prenner both frowned. They didn’t get it. At least not yet. She shuffled the pages until she came to the end of the report. “Fortunately, there was only one civilian death. Unfortunately, it was that of the girl’s caregiver.”
Again, the other two frowned. “You clearly do not know Brandt and Davidson.”
“Apparently not,” Prenner stated, although not with nearly the attitude he might have had a few hours ago.
“In that part of the world? What would happen to an orphaned girl?” Bunny asked, not expecting an answer. They all knew that human slavery, rape, and worse awaited an orphan in the jungle. “There is no way Brandt would have left that girl unprotected.”
Prenner squinted, reading the report over again. “You are saying that he took that thirty-six hours and found the girl a safe home?”
“Yes,” Bunny said, nodding vigorously. “I’m certain that is the aspect of the mission the Disciples are honing in on.”
“Certain?” Emily said as her eyebrow rose. “Why?”
Bunny immediately regretted her choice of words. She was certain. Only, she couldn’t tell them why she was certain. Another of those things that not only got left out of the after-action report, but hadn’t even been reported to Brandt. Rebecca and she had kept the information to themselves.
The knowledge that the tablets of the Ten Commandments spoke of the daughter of God. Not son. Not child, but daughter of God prophesized to rise to be the Messiah.
And now suddenly the Disciples were taking such interest in a girl deep in the African jungle. There had to be a connection. Not that she could tell Emily that.
“You are just going to have to trust me,” Bunny answered.
“My, my,” Prenner commented, nodding toward Emily, “I guess someone else doesn’t have the clearance they need.”
Bunny felt bad for holding back on Emily, but this was more than a pinky promise she’d made with Rebecca. This was a sacred vow.
The secret of the female Messiah was safe with her.
Turning to Emily, Bunny tried to get them refocused. “Now all we have to do is figure out where Brandt took the girl.”
“Oh, is that all?” Emily shot back.
Prenner’s phone buzzed. He read the text aloud. “Contact made with Corporal Lopez. Eyes on Brandt approaching the village. Requesting thermal imaging of area.”
Bunny caught herself on the edge of the table. Davidson was safe. They made it out of the crash and sounded like they were moments from rescuing him. They might really be able to pull it off.
However, even in the euphoria of the moment, Bunny still wondered, Where is the girl?
* * *
Rebecca squelched a scream as the python’s coils tightened around her legs. Knees knocking together, she tried not to panic. However, she was finding it more and more difficult to keep perspective. Hanging upside down was certainly not helping.
Hooting and hollering, the chimps were throwing what she could only hope was mud at her as the snake made its slow, painful advance. Rebecca had tried to remain still, allowing the python to think her subdued. She didn’t need those long fangs sunk into her. When the moment came to make her move, she needed to be able to…well, move.
She blocked out the chimps’ war cries. In her right hand, she held the metal comb from her veil. The removal of which had been made at great cost to her scalp. Even now, she held a chunk of hair in her palm. Her only hope was to let the snake get close enough, then use the sharp comb as a weapon. Although, the closer the python got, the more her desperate plan seemed even more desperate and unrealistic.
What else did she have?
Just as she gripped the comb, readying the blow, a figure burst from the forest. Tall, lean, and shirtless, the older man’s dark skin melted with the shadows. Then he opened his eyes. One obsidian black, the other a milky white. Waving a thick cane over his head, he yelled fiercely.
Rebecca wasn’t sure if it even contained any words or if it was just a visceral utterance, but the chimps took note. Many fled, while others became even more agitated, jumping into the trees, rattling the branches.
Mr. Python stopped his slow descent, lifting his head, flickering his tongue at the newest arrival. Rebecca could feel the snake tense. Apparently, he did not want to share his meal. Opening his jaw wide, the snake made ready to strike.
Hand shaking, Rebecca clutched her comb. However, no matter how sharp, it seemed a meager defense against those teeth.
Then the largest chimp launched itself from a neighboring tree. Its body slammed into Rebecca. Not the face, please not the face was all Rebecca could think. Its fingernails dug into her dress. Then the python struck, nailing the chimp in the shoulder. The ape howled its pain, then bore its own rather impressive set of fangs and dug them into the snake.
The python apparently forgetting all about its human prey, released Rebecca. Instead, the snake reared, trying to slither back up to the high shelter of the canopy. The chimp climbed over Rebecca like she was a jungle gym, racing after the snake. Hissing, the python flung itself from the parachute to another tree.
The motion ripped the fabric.
Dropping, Rebecca closed her eyes. This was not going to be pretty.
But the harness caught, jerking her to a stop. More panicked than with purpose, Rebecca thrashed her legs. Finally, the strap gave, freeing her foot.
Nothing but the ground stopped her this time.
Stars, literal white stars, danced in her vision as her head struck a log. Blurry images filtered into her mind. The strangest being a little girl dressed in a bright-orange traditional kaftan with matching gelee headscarf.
“Hello,” the girl stated with a thick Congolese accent.
Not sure if the child was real or simply a consequence of her concussion, Rebecca passed out.
CHAPTER 6
══════════════════
Outside of Bomongo, Democratic Republic of the Congo
8:12 p.m. (CAT)
Brandt pretended to stumble on a thick vine. Frellan had the men cut the zip ties on Brandt’s legs but had insisted his hands stay bound. Which was fine by Brandt. It allowed the other men to relax around him. Especially after Brandt had been such a good boy the whole trek up the mountain.
Was his presumed compliance enough to give him a window of opportunity? Things had gone his way as they ventured into the jungle. The men had been forced to spread out, leaving only four men in his immediate vicinity. Others were in the nearby forest, but with only four nearby, Brandt might just be able to dispatch before the others could assist.
Wiping his brow with his arm, Brandt pr
epared to go from zero to sixty. This might be his last chance for escape. As the men chattered, Brandt picked up enough from their excitement to know that they were nearing the village. If he allowed them to secure him in the village, he was screwed. They would probably dope him again or begin the torture brigade. Either way, getting away would be next to impossible.
Taking a moment to center himself, Brandt breathed in. This could go badly. Like seriously badly. He was only one man against a dozen. Not just any dozen, but a dozen of highly trained mercenaries who knew this mountainside like he knew each and every one of Rebecca’s curves.
Rebecca.
Stuff it down, Brandt. Don’t get all maudlin. You are going to see her again.
Well, if luck swung his way.
A leaf fluttered next to him. Funny, a hole was blown through it. He glanced behind him, to see the rear guard slump to the ground.
What the fuck?
His head snapped forward. Beyond the forward guards, there was just more forest. Absolutely no window for someone to get a shot through. Unless your name was Davidson. Brandt’s heart soared, like literally beat a hundred times stronger. His men were here. He stumbled again, this time not faking it. His limbs simply couldn’t believe how fortunate they were.
What had gone from an insane gamble was now a fucking doable plan.
Brandt stared at the back of the closest guard’s head.
Game on.
* * *
“What are we looking at?” Bunny asked, sitting down in an extremely comfortable computer chair.
Prenner had led them out of the dismally gray room, down several corridors and several security levels until they arrived in this distinctly colorful room. The room itself was nearly a cavern divided off into smaller sections by glass walls.
“We’ve got the thermal imaging Lopez requested,” Emily answered, then off a frown from Prenner, bowed her head, sat down, and made the motion of zipping her lips closed and throwing away the key.
“At least for right now,” Prenner stated. “The satellite had already been retasked for Nigeria, but we are catching a slice of the Congo for the next six minutes.”
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