by Diane Capri
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Sunday, August 21
2 p.m. WAT
Gloriana, Africa
Jess walked up the short beach. Rocks bordered the sand, and vegetation and stunted trees grew out of crevices. The only way off the beach was straight ahead.
The sand and rocks gave way to trees and a narrow, worn path suggesting that Paavo wasn’t the only person to know about this spot.
The path twisted and turned as they climbed up from sea level. Looking back, the coastline on either side of the tiny beach was rocky with vegetation that ran right up to the island’s edge.
As the ground leveled out, Hadlow tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to crouch down. He had a map on his bulky satellite phone.
“The buildings are west of here. There’s a road ahead that curves around to them. My guess is the road is blocked off or guarded. That means we’ll have to go cross-country and hope that the area isn’t under remote surveillance.”
“And if it is being watched?”
“We’re just two lost tourists hoping to find some seclusion.” He winked.
“Lovely,” she said.
He grinned. “You think we’re still married now we don’t have the passports?”
She burst out laughing.
He slapped his hand over his heart. “You really know how to hurt a man.”
She pointed forward. “Lead on, Romeo.”
He moved up to the edge of the trees and checked both ways along the road before waving Jess to follow. The trail did not continue on the other side of the road. They walked a hundred yards to find a gap and then headed into the trees.
The ground was rough, but the trees and weeds were sparse. The terrain sloped gently upward. Those few trees provided a welcome relief from the sun, but Jess was soon sweating.
After thirty minutes, they stopped and drank water.
Hadlow checked their position on his satellite phone. “There’s a ridge up ahead, then the ground drops to the far coast. The buildings are just over the ridge.”
He checked his gun. Satisfied, he held it up. “Better safe than sorry, but a firefight is still a last resort. Okay?”
“Suits me.” Jess checked her gun and set her cell phone for silent. It shouldn’t be able to ring on an island without cell phone coverage, but she wouldn’t take that chance.
Hadlow keyed a message into his phone. A few moments later, a small LED on the top blinked to indicate a reply. “Seems like I’ve been downgraded to reconnaissance.”
“Meaning?”
“The Royal Navy wants a slice of the action. HMS Buckland is two hundred miles south of here.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Two hundred miles?”
“A few hours or so.”
She whistled.
He put his phone away. “It’s not like we were going to storm a research lab, anyway. We just need to pick up any intel we can before HMS blow-your-cover turns up with a welcoming party.”
“Did you tell them about Felipe Cantor and Debora Elden?”
“Of course, but my guess is they don’t want to risk us. You know, since we’re outnumbered.”
“It’s not just that, is it?” She stared at Hadlow. “We’re outnumbered no matter what we do.”
He shifted his weight. “You’re a civilian.”
“You mean the British navy is heading this way because of me?”
“No. They’re the sensible option to deal with whatever’s happening here. They were always slated to be involved.” Hadlow nodded. “The big guns have been on the job all along. I’ve been talking to the boss for days.”
“And me.”
He sighed. “Your FBI boyfriend isn’t happy. He’s contacted your State Department, and now everybody is livid that you’re not back on home soil already. Anything happens to you, and—”
“Oh, for cripes sake. I can take care of myself.”
“You’ve said that before, and I believe you, but like so many other things, this is not my call.”
They stood in silence a moment. “Elden is still in immediate danger, and a lot can happen in six hours’ time.”
“And you’re a reporter. Recon should be right up your alley.”
“This is—”
“What we’re doing. Believe me, I hate being ordered to burn time as much as anyone, but just this once, my desk jockey boss is right. Overwhelming force beats depending on luck. Every time.”
“Meaning?”
“Four-and-a-half inch guns, missiles, air power, and quite literally, a boatload of Royal Marines.”
She smiled at his attempted humor. “But we’ve come this far.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I get you. But that overwhelming force that’s arriving needs all the intel they can get. Trust me, I’ve been in their boots. Walking into a hostile environment isn’t fun, and word from eyes on the ground beats all, okay?”
She looked at him. It was frustrating in the extreme, probably more so for him. But he was right. The two of them against whoever was on the island wasn’t good odds no matter how she sliced them, and she was a reporter. There was still plenty she could do. She stood up. “Okay. Let’s go reconnoiter.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Hadlow led the way up to the ridge. The trees thinned out. He kept below the peak and found an area that offered plenty of undergrowth.
“Remember, we’re tourists. Tourists don’t hide in the trees.” He stood tall and strolled over the top of the ridge.
She followed, sweeping her gaze over the downslope’s majestic view. Thick green vegetation sprawled across the undulating slope. More trees populated the slope as it ran down to the crystal blue sea, a good two miles distant.
Even in the center of the island, she tasted the tang of salt in the breeze. Occasional animal calls broke the silence, and she wished she’d researched the native wildlife when she’d had the chance. A few derelict wood structures dotted the landscape, but they were not the structures they’d seen in the picture on Hadlow’s phone.
They searched for a wide swath of green toward the coast. The buildings weren’t visible, but a broad spur of tarmac that ran inland from the road circled the island and disappeared into the trees.
Paavo had been wrong. Indeed, there was a wooden dock on the western edge of the island. A small boat moored there, bobbing on the waves.
Anchored farther out was a luxury cruiser. Perhaps the big boat Paavo had mentioned. Its brilliant white hull contrasted with the ocean’s blue. A rotating radar dish glinted on top of the superstructure.
Hadlow took several pictures and sent a message on his satellite phone.
“That’s radar?” she asked.
He nodded. “Buckland is south of here, so they’ll be masked by the island for most of the way, but anything we can tell them gives them an advantage.”
Hadlow walked on, glancing around every time they passed a tree. He beckoned her beside him and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “It’s so quiet out here they might even have audio monitors, so talk quietly.”
“Okay.”
He slipped his arm from her shoulder. Moving downhill was easier than the climb, but under the shade of the trees, the heat stuck her clothes to her skin. She raked her fingers through her short, curly hair to fluff it away from her head. Hadlow untucked his shirt.
Just as she was about to wonder about a fence, one came into view. A flimsy collection of metal uprights strung with three horizontal strands of wire cut across the landscape, unhindered by the vegetation.
“It’s been there a while,” Hadlow noted.
Jess agreed. Vines coiled up around the uprights and along the wires. A hundred feet away, a sign dangled from the upper wire. She couldn’t read the language, but the red triangle with an exclamation mark was an unmistakable warning.
“It’s not exactly Fort Knox,” she said. “So either they have nothing to hide, or they have a second line of defense.”
He pulled apart the
vines and ducked under the wires, holding them up for Jess to follow.
He strode on, seemingly unconcerned about being spotted. She kept up, but her unease grew with every step. Playing the lost tourist was easy enough, but the gun in her pocket would be difficult to explain, should the need arise.
A track big enough for a vehicle emerged from the trees on the right. Hadlow veered away and kept to the undergrowth.
Five minutes later he checked the location on his sat phone, which was indicated by a blue dot. He pointed to the buildings. “Five minutes and we’d be there, but we’re going to angle off to the side. Gives a better stupid tourist impression, and allows us to get a good view of the place rather than just marching straight in.”
As they walked on, Jess pointed out a cable running through the trees.
He nodded. “Security system, probably.”
“You think they’ve already noticed us?”
He shrugged. “Been a while since we entered their property.” He put his arm around Jess and hugged her. “Just two wandering tourists.”
The trees and vegetation became thicker, slowing progress and forcing a new direction. Five minutes later it felt as if they were moving away from the buildings. A gap appeared in the undergrowth. They stopped short of an open area.
Jess looked both ways and whistled.
“No kidding,” Hadlow said as he took more pictures.
In front of them lay a straight road, three lanes wide. It ran down toward the coast, and directly uphill toward the center of the island. The trees along the edges of the road had been cut back and piled into solid wooden barriers on either side. Camouflage netting was stretched between the tops of the trees to cover the road.
“A runway,” she said, taking her own pictures with her phone.
“And a pretty big one. You could land a transport plane as big as a Hercules on that.”
She pointed to the netting. “Is there enough height?”
“Might be tight. Depends on what planes they’re using.”
She looked left and right. The curve of the ground and the camouflage netting prevented her from seeing the ends of the road. “I don’t see an aircraft.”
He nodded as he sent pictures on his satellite phone.
They tracked alongside the runway, downhill, staying inside the trees. Several minutes later they stopped abruptly at the same time.
A couple of hundred yards ahead, Jess saw buildings through the trees. She hadn’t noticed them at first because they were well-hidden. The walls were painted a brown color that blended with the terrain. Light shining through the windows was a giveaway. In the dark, or with all the lights off, she’d have run right into them.
Jess sidestepped behind a tree trunk. Hadlow followed and scanned the surrounding area.
“Nothing coming after us,” she whispered.
“I don’t like it,” Hadlow said quietly. “Either nothing is going on here, or they’re really lousy at security.”
“I don’t buy either of those options. Do you?”
“Not for a minute.”
Nearby, an engine sounded.
She shuffled closer to the tree, a knot forming in her stomach.
A moment later an open-top Jeep drove up the runway, V8 engine rumbling.
Four armed men wearing camouflage suits stared straight ahead as the vehicle passed by.
She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly and completely, which did nothing to calm her nerves.
The Jeep disappeared up the slope.
Hadlow frowned. “What’s going on? Those guys were solid soldiers. Special ops or mercs. Yet they cruised past as if they were on a pizza run.”
The Jeep’s rumbling slowed for a few moments before continuing into the distance.
“Subterfuge?” Jess said.
“Maybe.” Hadlow nodded. He pointed across the runway. “Let’s get moving. No need to make finding us too easy for them.”
Hadlow checked both ways along the runway. “Let’s walk across. Calmly. Nothing like running to attract attention.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
They crossed. Jess held her arms by her sides, her phone pointing down the runway’s slope. She fired off a dozen shots without looking.
In the trees on the opposite side, she reviewed her un-aimed pictures. The buildings were just visible on the right of the runway. More visible on the left were light gray shapes that she couldn’t identify.
They veered deeper into the woods and headed in the direction of the gray shapes. As they got closer, the shapes became clearer through the trees.
They knelt down, both snapping pictures. “Antonovs,” Hadlow said. “An-12. The Soviet Union’s answer to the C-130 Hercules, only cheaper and more likely to kill you.”
“There’s four of them,” Jess said.
“That’s a lot of lifting capacity.”
On one of the aircraft, a man appeared to be crawling along the wings. “Maintenance,” Hadlow said.
Jess used her phone’s zoom to study the man. “He’s got some sort of cable.”
Hadlow stared. “That’s a thick cable.”
“Fuel?”
Hadlow shook his head.
She looked again. “Call me crazy, but I think it’s a hosepipe.”
Hadlow frowned. “See the farthest aircraft? They’re loading drums.”
He took a series of pictures and sent them out from his satellite phone.
Jess said, “Drums and a hosepipe? You think they’re making a big crop sprayer?”
“Who knows?” Hadlow shrugged. “Why not just get a crop sprayer?”
She stared at the big aircraft and considered his question for a few moments before the answer occurred to her. “Range. If you’re going to test something, you don’t want to do it in your own backyard. You’d want to get pretty far away.”
“And a conventional crop sprayer wouldn’t have that kind of range.” He nodded and then raised his eyebrows. “And if you’re going to do a big experiment, you’d need a lot of the chemicals you’re testing. So cargo capacity would be bigger this way, too.”
While Hadlow typed furiously on his satellite phone, Jess moved away from him to get closer to the aircraft for a better view. Behind the Antonovs, a helicopter was tied down, also under the camouflage netting.
She shot a couple dozen photos with her phone and then turned back.
Shouts broke out. She heard punches being landed and a man screamed.
She reached for her Vektor, and raced back to where she’d left Hadlow.
One man wearing camouflage lay on the ground.
Hadlow was fighting another. The second man was armed with a serrated knife.
Jess circled the pair, the Vektor trained on Hadlow’s attacker.
“Freeze,” she said, loud enough to be heard.
He turned his head and stole a glance at Jess to assess the threat.
Hadlow made the most of the opportunity.
He lashed out with his boot, striking hard against the side of the man’s knee joint.
Jess heard a sickening snap like a big tree trunk ripped apart.
The man screamed and grabbed his knee with both hands as he fell sideways to the ground, writhing in pain.
Hadlow pulled off the man’s cloth hat and stuffed it into his mouth to stop his cries from reaching the others.
He landed a heavy punch on the back of the man’s head, and the screaming stopped.
“We have to move,” Hadlow said as he rolled the man into the undergrowth and picked up the knife.
Jess scanned the area. They were alone. “Which way did they come from?”
“They were already here.” He pointed to a mangled bush. “Hiding.”
She nodded. “So they know we’re here.”
Hadlow retrieved his gun from the undergrowth. “Yep, and this is the second line of defense. Which means we head out of here—”
He grabbed his neck. “Damn.”
He fell to his knees, pulling a dart
from his neck, already woozy.
She ran and knelt beside him and hefted her gun into shooting position.
Three soldiers raced from the trees.
Before she could squeeze the trigger on the Vektor, a strong hand gripped her arm, and a gun muzzle pushed into her temple. “Don’t even think about it.”
She lowered her gun to the ground. The soldier kicked it away.
Hadlow was face down. Three heavily-armed men stood around him.
Jess struggled free of the man’s grip and knelt beside Hadlow. “What have you done? We’re tourists.”
“Yeah. Sure you are.”
Hadlow groaned.
“We’re tourists taking a walk. The gun was for protection. We’re in Africa, you know,” she said, doing her best imitation of the tourist she claimed to be.
An SUV shuddered to a stop on the side of the runway. More soldiers jumped out and headed in her direction.
The group of men parted, and her heart sank. Behind the soldiers, was a tall Germanic beauty with blonde hair and deep blue eyes.
“My, my,” Vanna Sánchez said with a stare so cold it frosted the air between them. She scoffed. “The irritating Miss Jessica Kimball.”
She turned and headed for the Jeep, raising her voice as she walked away. “Bring them.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Jess was cuffed and thrown into one Jeep, and Hadlow into another. A guard held a gun aimed at her. Hadlow was handcuffed to a bar in the rear of the second Jeep.
The two vehicles traveled in tandem down the runway to the group of buildings they’d seen on Hadlow’s map.
Hadlow was marched off, still drugged, barely able to walk.
Vanna told a guard to escort Jess to the building she had presumed was a biochemical lab. Vanna used a key card and a code to open the electronic door.
They passed through an airlock.
Inside, everything was white. White walls. White doors. Even white locks. The doors had no nameplates. A white camera stared from a corner of the ceiling.
Sánchez led the way to an elevator. The guard shoved Jess into the back corner, keeping his gun pointed at her. Sánchez pressed the button to descend four floors.