Perhaps she hadn’t betrayed Davidson quite as badly as she’d feared.
Bunny was going to ignore Rojas’ smoldering eyes and crushing stare.
She was here for one thing and one thing only.
More information on the Brotherhood of the Seven Suns.
That was once they got their food.
Bunny’s mouth was already watering.
CHAPTER 8
Stark was perfectly content sitting in the IT center of the convention center with the lights dimmed, coding his heart out. Someone had obviously gotten the admin password and gone to town.
Moron.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Come in,” Stark reluctantly said. He was on a job, otherwise he would have ignored the knock. Couldn’t people understand that coding was a solo endeavor? Unless it was with his mom, then it was a whole other story. It was nearly a religious experience.
His mom was just plain awesome, taking care of the team, while he was off securing their retirement.
The team had gotten themselves in trouble. But when hadn’t they? His mom said she had it under control and he had to trust her. He was only a half an hour away from the attic, so he could pop home if things got hot and heavy, which given Alpha Tango’s track record, would more than likely happen.
The doorknob turned and Cama walked in. Only she wasn’t Cama any more, she was an angel. An angel dressed in white lingerie. She must have felt his eyes on her, as she tightened a flimsy robe over her nearly naked from. Because you know, see-thru fabric wrapped over a white bra and panties was really going to hide a lot.
Then garters that held up thigh-high white stockings?
Was he working or did he nod off and enter the most perfect dream?
Cama’s red hair was in long curlicues that framed her face. Those emerald eyes were framed in cat’s eye make-up. Did the inventor of that technique know how it would affect Stark?
And her body?
Stark could only gulp.
“Sorry, its lingerie day,” Cama said. “I can come back after the show.”
Stark, contrary to his character, pushed a chair over for her. “No, no. It’s okay. Have a seat.”
So, apparently, Stark did have a price.
* * *
It turned out that Brandt didn’t like not knowing where his wife was. The further they traveled, the more concerned he became. Were they still even in Lima anymore?
The more time that passed, the more he worried that the commander didn’t exactly have Rebecca’s best interests at heart.
He never should have left her at the command post. Instead, logic dictated, that he should have brought her along to a firefight.
Right. Not exactly a win-win situation.
“Sir,” Lopez whispered, stopping them. This tunnel was a dead end. There was only one shaft up to the street level.
No time like the present.
Brandt gave the nod.
Lopez climbed the metal ladder. “It has been moved recently,” he confirmed.
Thank God.
Brandt followed his man up the metal rungs. Lopez lifted the cover and exited the tunnel.
“Well?” Brandt asked as he climbed.
“Um, not sure this is an improvement,” Lopez stated.
Once Brandt was up on the “street” he could see what Lopez was talking about. This was not where he wanted to end up. San Juan de Lurigancho.
One of the most violent slums in the world. It put Brazil’s favelas to shame.
Why in the world would the commander bring Rebecca here?
It couldn’t be to protect her.
Was the man a part of the original kidnapping? Bribery was rampant in Peru. Had the man been bought? Was Rebecca being delivered to the terrorists for a price?
Rage burned through his veins, forcing his fingers to clutch his gun.
When he found the commander…
Which was the problem right now. Which direction had the commander gone? These slums were a maze. They could head off in any direction and wander for hours.
“Sarge,” Lopez said then corrected himself. “Sorry, First Lieutenant,”
He pointed to small boy playing with a piece of scrap wood. The boy subtly nodded to the road that went up the hill.
Could they trust the boy?
Or was he leading them on a wild goose chase?
Either way, Brandt tossed the boy an American. Twenty-dollar bill. The thing was snatched and hidden within the blink of an eye.
Time to head up.
* * *
Davidson could feel the change in the tunnel’s elevation in his thighs. They were climbing up. Pretty darn steeply. So far the journey had been boring. Long, but boring.
The only good thing coming out of this underground sojourn was to work with Ki under not exactly ideal circumstances. The guy was a beast. Setting a swift pace, no complaining and laser-focused.
The holy trinity for a point man.
And the army had booted him out for telling the truth? People wondered why Brandt never accepted promotions, pushing him up the chain of command until he was in a position to make such bogus decisions. Brandt contended that having authority ate away at the logical part of your brain.
Davidson really wished that someone would do a study on that. The team had more than enough empirical evidence to prove Brandt’s theory.
“I think we’re here,” Ki stated as he finally slowed the brutal pace.
Davidson looked ahead in the dim flashlight illumination. It looked like the tunnel dead-ended, but they couldn’t have come this far, with so much evidence that the tunnel had been used recently, to get stalled now.
It was like the hostages had left them a trail like Hansel and Gretel. Davidson didn’t think they had done it on purpose, but there were enough discarded candy wrappers and scuff marks on the dirt to let them know they were on the right path.
But Davidson wanted out of this tunnel. He hated not having his airy perch. He hated not knowing what was going on all around him.
Ki seemed more comfortable with the tight spaces. At least one of them was.
Davidson studied the ceiling, as Ki checked the floor. If there was another hidden door, then there should be marks in the dirt where the door opened. On the ceiling as well.
But neither of them found any.
What the heck? Even if the door opened inward, no door opened and closed perfectly, there should be some sign of the hostages entering.
Lord knew there were enough footprints leading up to the end of the tunnel. Some footprints were cut right in half at the wall’s edge. The hostages had gone past the wall, but how?
“Should we blow it?” Ki asked.
“How? We have no idea how thick the rock is?” Davidson asked.
Ki nodded his head. He must have known the problems with his plan before Davidson even voiced them. Davidson knelt down by the dead-end wall. He wiped away the loose dirt from the base of the wall. There were no grooves or runners.
“Help me,” Davidson stated. Ki offered his laced fingers as a boost up. Davidson did the same investigation at the ceiling. Nothing was disturbed. If they didn’t have the footprints, Davidson would have guessed that the hostages never came this way and certainly didn’t make it through that wall.
Ki turned, punching the wall.
That would have hurt except his fist went “into” the wall.
“What the…”
“Stark?” Davidson asked. He didn’t expect an answer. Though they must not be very deep underground any more.
“Sorry, still his mom.”
“No worries,” Davidson said. Ki frowned, but Davidson had worked the closest with Stark and his mom. They were solid. They were beyond solid. Stark or his mom. Davidson would take either. “I am sending you an image. Can you tell us what is going on?”
Davidson nodded and Ki put his fist “into” the wall again. “There’s quite a bit of resistance.”
The answer came quickly. �
��It is a vinyl hologram,” Stark’s mother answered. At some point, Davidson should probably learn the woman’s real name. But not right now. Right now he needed to understand what a vinyl hologram was.
“Explain?”
“Holograms are see-thru by their nature. So instead of just projecting it into air, you project your image onto a green screen vinyl to make the image look solid. There should be projector directly opposite the image.”
Davidson glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough there was a tiny lens back there.
Clever. Not clever enough though.
“They must have ripped through the original vinyl to get in, then replaced it,” Stark’s mother continued.
Ki flipped his knife out. “Shall we?”
Davidson wasn’t exactly sure what was on the other side, but this is what they did.
Bringing his sidearm to bear, Davidson gave the nod.
* * *
Rebecca felt like she would never get the thick crust of depression off her skin. Even being in the slum for a few minutes weighed heavily on her. She felt ready to give up, and she could count her time here in seconds.
“Here,” the commander said, pointing to a blue metal door, hung so crookedly that it was hard to imagine the limited skill of the carpenter.
There was a crucifix drawn, with much greater skill on the door with a set of praying hands superimposed. Now that was church quality. The symbol had also been on the back of Lopez’s pendant.
So this dwelling must belong to the Brotherhood.
Great.
Apparently, the commander didn’t exactly have her best interests at heart.
“We need to get inside,” the commander said.
Down the narrow side alleys young men crept up on them. They were none too subtle about their objective. They looked like the angry young men that like to kidnap foreigners and not give them back.
They didn’t need subtlety. They had the numbers. Rebecca counted at least fifteen of them. And in the shadows? There could be double that.
On one level Rebecca felt sorry for these young men. They had no options in life. No opportunity to improve their lives, except through violence. Despite her empathy for them, she by no means wanted to be their guest for any length of time.
“Hurry,” the commander urged.
Rebecca reasoned that inside that shack couldn’t be much worse than it was out here. She was probably going to be taken by someone, but she figured she might actually be able to reason with religious zealots more than this rabble out here.
Lord knew, she had enough experience trying to talk her way out of lethal situations with the latter.
“Stop!” a voice called from behind them.
Rebecca would know that bark anywhere.
Brandt.
* * *
The commander did as instructed, but his eyes darted side-to-side. Thugs surrounding what they had assumed would be an easy foreigner mark.
Brandt raised his rifle to his shoulder, glaring down the alleyway. His gaze met the leader of the pack’s eyes.
“Just try,” Brandt said. He didn’t need to translate his intent into Spanish. The guy got his message loud and clear. Within moments the young gangsters bled back into the shadows, then were gone.
Brandt glanced over his shoulder to find Lopez had dispersed his side of the road as well.
Turning to the commander, Brandt demanded. “Explain.”
“Inside?” the man suggested.
“I think not,” Brandt replied. “This is a Brotherhood hide-out, isn’t it?”
The commander nodded. “Yes, I believe they routed the hostages through here.”
“Then why not bring more back up. You have access to the entire Peruvian Army?
The man snorted. “We wouldn’t have made it a foot up the hill if I’d had any kind of contingent. The inhabitants fear forced eviction. The Army and San Juan do not have the best relationship.”
Brandt scanned the man’s features. He seemed to be telling the truth. Or at least a version of it.
“So you came here with my wife?”
“I don’t think they are still here,” the commander stated. “I came here immediately to see if they left any clues as to where they went from here.”
“Again, with my wife?”
The commander shrugged. “She seemed to handle herself well and I brought her here for the same reason you brought her to Lima. To see if she could shed any light on the Brotherhood’s motives.”
Brandt opened his right arm. Rebecca rushed over to him, tucking herself under his embrace.
“Next time give me a call before you lead my wife into a slum.”
Not waiting for the commander’s response, Brandt gave Lopez the nod. It was time to find out if the commander’s theory was correct or not.
Lopez heaved back with his leg and slammed his foot into the metal door. It flew off the hinges, exposing a very dark interior. Lopez clicked his light on, revealing two figures inside. Their lights swept over to Lopez. Two red dots on his chest.
“It’s Ki and Davidson,” Lopez announced, rushing into the hut.
* * *
Davidson lowered his weapon just before Lopez full-body hit him, hugging him like a long lost brother. Even though Lopez was a thousand times better than last year, there were still ways in which Levont’s death had affected him. This bro-hug was one of them.
Lopez patted Davidson so hard on the back that it induced a cough.
“What is going on?” Brandt asked.
Ki responded, “We followed a tunnel up from the embassy.”
The commander nodded. Davidson just noticed that Rebecca was behind him. What was up with that? “The tunnels were built after the market riots.”
“Into the slums?” Brandt asked.
“Last place the rebels would look for the upper class.”
That made sense in a way, Davidson supposed.
“So where did they go from here?” Davidson asked. Clearly the hostages had been here, but not for long. There was no sign of a fire built or any indication they dug in here.
“There is a legend…” the commander said.
Rebecca perked up at that.
“Legend?” she asked.
“There are wise men that live up in the high mountain peaks. They live the life of hermits. Meditating on Christ’s message to us all.”
“Okay, where is the legend part?” Rebecca demanded. Don’t promise Rebecca a legend, then skimp on the details.
“It is said that…if you believe such heresy…that Christ…he stayed at one of the larger monasteries deep in the mountain.”
“The Hauntis monastery? Where he supposedly gave a sermon on fidelity?”
The commander’s eyes dilated. He wasn’t yet used to Rebecca’s encyclopedic knowledge of proto-Christian history.
“Yes, yes that is the legend I speak of.”
Rebecca turned to her husband, nodding. I can only imagine the Brotherhood would claim that as their own.
“Do we think the hostages are still alive?” Brandt asked.
Davidson answered, “There was no blood the entire way here and none on the ground. The hostages, at the least, left this shack.”
Brandt turned to the commander. “We are going to need transportation.”
“I can supply a helicopter, but from there it will be a climb.”
Brandt looked to Ki. “How are they going to get the hostages up there then?”
The commander looked down not wanting to meet Brandt’s eyes. “There is rumored to be a staircase within the mountain, but I do not know of the entrance.”
Brandt hit his mic. “Stark’s mom?”
“Here,” the woman answered. Davidson knew how little Brandt liked talking to the woman, but they were kind of used to the excellent IT support Stark and his mother supplied.
“A large group,” Brandt said. “Up to fifteen people left our location probably an hour ago. They would have gone to an airstrip and picked up a heli
copter and landed on a southeast peak of the Andes. They would have disappeared into the side of the mountain.”
“Sounds reasonable,” the woman replied. “I’ll check.”
To just about anyone else, that wouldn’t have sounded reasonable at all. But that’s why they worked with Stark, and yes, his mom.
CHAPTER 9
Bunny stared at the sandwich in front of her. It was possibly the largest creation she had seen made with bread. And deep fried at that. The meal and a half was the Diablo. Rojas explained it was a Peruvian equivalent to a Monte Cristo sandwich. She hadn’t had one since she was a child.
She did not remember it being this large. Rojas reached across the table and used his knife to cut the sandwich in half. Cheese oozed out, covering the three layers of meat. Dear God, how was she even going to get that thing in her mouth? And the sandwich wasn’t all. Fries seasoned with chili pepper flakes were piled high.
The sandwich basket was literally a week’s worth of food for her.
Rojas laughed from the other side of the table. “We Peruvians like a challenge.”
Yes, they certainly did.
She had to get over Rojas’ hotness and the size of the sandwich. She was here to do a job. She had to stay focused.
“You were going to explain the Brotherhood of the Seven Suns to me,” Bunny urged as she used her fork and knife to cut a more reasonable section of sandwich. Popping a piece in her mouth.
Oh wow. She was not expecting the flavor explosion in her mouth. She’d thought maybe the bite would be too greasy or too salty, but no. Not at all. Bunny, being a Top Chef disciple, tried to catalog all the spice notes that sang on her taste buds.
Forget that. Bunny decided to just enjoy the sensation. She chewed slowly, savoring each and every moment of this delicious experience.
“I do not think you are going to like what I have to say though.”
All she could do was nod and use one hand, the one not holding the sandwich to end all sandwiches, to urge Rojas on.
He chuckled. “Did I not warn you?”
Oh shut up. Bunny wanted nothing to spoil the moment.
“The Brotherhood don’t just think that Jesus traveled to the Americas. They believe that he is an alien.”
The 3rd Cycle of the Betrayed Series Collection: Extremely Controversial Historical Thrillers (Betrayed Series Boxed set) Page 32