Piranha Assignment

by Austin Camacho

  The man had a barrel chest, huge arms, a small waist and very narrow hips. His thighs swelled back out, giving him a bizarre figure eight look. Morgan was muscular, Felicity reflected, but his muscles seemed smooth and flowing. The man in the arena was chunky, angular in a way that made him seem awkward, even as you observed his very graceful, pantherish stride. He looked up at his audience, and his voice boomed forth in a deep, powerful baritone.

  “I, Rodrigo Herrera, shall now demonstrate the strength and speed a dedicated man may achieve through hard work and a tough daily regimen.”

  Morgan leaned back on his elbows in the short grass. Beside him, Felicity sat in a half lotus posture, wondering if her new jumpsuit would get grass stains. Both leaned forward when Herrera whipped the top from the basket. The head of a huge snake wavered into the air.

  The reptile’s rough skin was light brown in color, almost pink, with a row of big black blotches running down its back. When it opened its mouth, Felicity could see fangs that had to be an inch long. A deep pit between its eyes and nostrils made its face menacing. Felicity’s flesh crawled as the viper slithered out of its basket. It must have been ten feet long, and it eyed the only human within reach as if it had found its lunch at last..

  “Bushmaster,” Morgan whispered, answering Felicity’s unspoken question. “Native to here. Biggest poisonous snake in the Americas, North or South.”

  Despite Felicity’s interruptions, Morgan was focused on the movements of the man in the arena. As he watched, fascinated, Herrera crouched before the snake. He held his hands out before him, weaving them slowly through the air in intersecting circles. Was he trying to hypnotize the creature?

  The snake’s head swayed rhythmically, following Herrera’s movements. Morgan sighed as Felicity nudged him again and shrugged her shoulders, asking another silent question. He could guess her thoughts and answered in a soft voice.

  “The bushmaster and its cousins are called pit snakes because of the heat seeking organ in the pit on their faces.” As he said that, Morgan suddenly realized what the performer had in mind, and inwardly flinched. He thought Herrera must have been chewing peyote to try something this idiotic for fun. Nobody is that fast.

  Even as Morgan thought this, Herrera seemed to make a false move with his left hand. Morgan recognized it as the feint a good knife fighter might make. The bushmaster committed to a lunge, and in that instant, Herrera struck. The crowd sucked in a collective gasp. His right hand had darted out, capturing the snake just below its jaws.

  Out the corner of his eye, Morgan saw Felicity shaking her head. She did not think it possible either.

  Ten feet of killer snake was whipping about in front of Herrera, who held its head up at arms length. His right arm knotted as he began to squeeze. If anyone in the audience thought snakes were spineless, they soon knew better, because they all heard the thing’s backbone snap. Then Herrera captured the snake’s tail with his left hand. With a quick movement, he cracked the snake like a leather whip, smashing its head on the ground three times. When he dropped the limp body, the crowd burst into applause.

  Morgan caught Bastidas’ eyes for just a second. He returned Morgan’s gaze, looking quite smug and pleased. Morgan had the feeling that this show was for him. He touched the Browning under his arm for comfort, and hoped Bastidas was not nursing any grudge for the con game they played on him in his luxury hotel room.

  When he looked back, Herrera was opening the cage. A cat stalked out, growling low in its throat. It was a good six feet long, not counting its switching tail, with a golden coat covered with light spots within dark borders. It paced around so that it faced the man in the pit, whose back was to Morgan and Felicity. Black spots showed on the big cat’s face.

  “Is that a leopard?” Felicity asked, elbowing Morgan.

  “Jaguar. To the ancient Mayans, they symbolized strength and courage. If this guy wanted to impress his Panamanian audience, this is the way.”

  “Can he possibly fight that thing?” Felicity asked. “Look at the size of that cat.”

  “Must weigh close to three hundred pounds,” Morgan said. “Then again, Herrera probably weighs more. I don’t know, Red. I’ve seen men wrestle alligators.”

  “Those things are set ups,” Felicity reminded him. “Does that cat look drugged to you?”

  “No. He’s alert and aware. Hush, now. It’ll all be over one way or the other in one pass.”

  The two animals in the pit locked eyes. The four legged one released a deep growl, and Morgan thought he heard an answering growl from the two legged beast. Was he really as big as Morgan thought? He watched a lot of football, and sometimes professional wrestling for fun. None of those guys looked like they weighed three hundred pounds, but most of them did. This man’s muscles twitched with anticipation of the battle. He wondered if Felicity found it sexy in some way.

  The crowd, and even the surf seemed to hold its breath watching the frozen tableau. Only the twitching of the jaguar’s two foot long tail reminded them that this drama’s participants were living creatures with real blood flowing through their veins. Morgan felt sweat sliding down his back, and his throat ached from the tension of restricted breathing. There was no breeze, but he was sure he could already smell blood.

  Like a spring loaded missile, the jaguar leaped at its prey. Impossible as it seemed, Herrera leaped forward at the same instant. The two growls merged into an insane roar. The cat’s weapons, teeth and claws, glittered for a moment in the tropical sun. Herrera jammed his left forearm into the cat’s mouth, locking it open. He twisted, and the jaguar’s rear paws raked empty air.

  Then they were locked together on the ground. Herrera was inside the reach of the killing fore claws, and locking his legs around the beast rendered the rear claws ineffective. His right arm looped around the animal’s neck, holding their faces close. They wrestled eye-to-eye. Morgan anticipated the crunch sound of a breaking arm bone, but it never came. Herrera rocked forward, swinging his left arm out, straightening it with amazing force. The jaguar’s head, locked to that arm by its own jaws, twisted around at a sharp angle and for the second time in minutes, they heard the crack of a neck breaking.

  The crowd remained silent until the jaguar stopped twitching and Herrera managed to roll the dead animal over and disengage himself from it. When he stood, sweat glistened on his skin like oil, adding to his muscle definition. He reminded Morgan of Hercules movies he had seen when he was a kid. As the gladiator rose to his feet, the men surrounding the arena roared their approval.

  With casual ease, Herrera leaped out of the pit to stand before Bastidas. He spread his hands to his sides, bowing at the waist before his master. Looking up at him, Morgan heard Felicity swallow hard. Herrera was a mass of muscles that never seemed to relax. Bastidas stood and smiled up at Herrera.

  “You have honored me today, my friend,” Bastidas said. “Now you must have the doctor look at that arm right away.”

  “Yes, Captain Bastidas.”

  “And I believe a tetanus shot is in order,” the smaller man continued.

  “At once, Captain Bastidas.”

  “Just before you go, I would like you to meet my new security chiefs,” Bastidas said, as Morgan and Felicity gained their feet. “I have hired their firm to oversee our safety for the last few days of the project. This is Mister Morgan Stark. His associate is Miss Felicity O’Brian.” Herrera stuck his right hand out and Morgan took it. The pressure was fierce but brief. The two men smiled at each other.

  “You protect the project,” Herrera said. “I am all the protection Captain Bastidas needs.” So saying, he walked off as if his mind was already elsewhere.

  “Rodrigo Herrera is very dedicated to me,” Bastidas said, standing.

  “He’s that,” Morgan said, flexing his hand. “And strong too.”

  “Well, the afternoon is still young,” Bastidas said, leading them toward the front of the main house. “Would you like to look over our existing defenses? I feel the
y are quite sufficient, but that is what you are being paid for, no? The Pentagon requires me to take certain precautions, else they will move their own people in. That I will not tolerate. For yourselves, it should result in a very easy assignment.”

  “Perhaps so, Mister Bastidas, but we’ll make our own evaluation,” Felicity said, as they neared their leased vehicle. “By the way, do all the men call you Captain?”

  “Yes, that was my rank in the Army and I’ve retained it. I will see you at dinner. We serve promptly at seven thirty.”

  “We’ll be there, boss,” Morgan assured him, starting up the engine. “I just want to make sure we can enjoy it in peace.”

  “I understand,” Bastidas said. “These are difficult times for my country. It may appear peaceful on the surface but the stench of revolution is always thick in the air. And the drug traffickers continue to bring crime and violence to my land. I would not want that violence to overlap into my private territory here.”

  -10-

  Panama’s greenness, its lushness, overwhelmed Felicity. Her native Ireland was known as the emerald isle but it could not compare to this. The land near the coast was fairly flat and not as rugged as the central area they had driven through earlier. Fewer pines grew near the shore, but there were trees aplenty, and ferns and bushes and more green growing things than she could classify.

  She remembered being stranded in Belize not so long ago, but she was too scared then to appreciate the beauty she now saw from a moving vehicle. And the sounds. Tropical birds screeched and screamed at them nonstop, and monkeys chattered above them. She heard the sounds of the big cats as well. She imagined Morgan could identify them, but to her jaguars, ocelots and pumas sounded alike.

  They drove the compound’s entire cleared border, questioning guards who had all been briefed to expect them. Looking at security from their different perspectives, they both liked what they saw. But as the afternoon wore on, their conversation centered more on what they had seen at the main house.

  “You notice anything odd about this place?” Morgan asked as he drove across the clearing.

  “Are you kidding?” Felicity’s eyebrows arched. “Everything about this caper is odd. Roberts Bastidas had sixty men on his payroll, but I see more like a hundred, and they act more like his fans than employees. We haven’t been introduced to any of these loyal followers, but they all sure know us. And I’d like to know how come everyone’s speaking English. You’d think Spanish would be the ‘lingua franca’ down here. And did you notice that almost all of these Panamanian types have hair down to their shoulders?”

  “Probably just want to look like their fearless leader,” Morgan said. “At least, I hope that’s all it is. I haven’t looked closely enough at any of them to be sure there are ears under there. Speaking of which, I haven’t noticed any hearing problem for our boy Bastidas.”

  “Didn’t you notice?” Felicity asked. “He’s got hearing aids stuck in his…holes. I don’t think the removal of the exterior part of your ear affects your hearing that much anyway.” A shudder shot through her thinking about it. “So what’s your theory on the dead agent and his killer?”

  “I think our first guess was probably off base,” Morgan said. “These guys are all pretty intense about this project. I figure one of these high strung Latin lovers really did blow his top and kill agent Matthews. I also think that kind of activity isn’t allowed here, and Bastidas sent his boy to punish the killer. Herrera probably aced him. Not nice, but understandable.”

  “I’m not quite convinced.” Felicity shook her tresses around her face. “This Bastidas is supposed to be a super patriot, right? But I noticed when he talks about ‘my country’ he means Panama.” She imitated Bastidas’ squeaky voice for those two words, and Morgan chuckled.

  Back at the main house, Latin servants showed Morgan and Felicity to their rooms. His was on the fourth and highest floor, a story above hers. She waved as he climbed one more flight of stairs, then she entered her room. She was surprised at the comfort of the accommodations. A welcoming bowl of fresh tropical fruit was a nice touch, and she appreciated the bottles of Evian water as less a luxury than a defense against dysentery. Even better, the room had its own full private bath. Her luggage waited in the closet, unopened. She decided that she had time for a quick shower and to dress well for dinner. When she stepped out of her room she was not surprised to find Morgan just reaching the last step coming down to her floor. She smiled and nodded at him.

  “Good job. I approve.” She was talking about the charcoal suit and black tie Morgan had changed into.

  “This is nothing,” Morgan said. “Look at you.” She wore a strapless dress of aqua taffeta. The bodice was tight, and a knee length skirt overlaid with chiffon layered to create a handkerchief hemline. The wide matching belt carried a square buckle glittering with rhinestones, like the small chandelier earrings that were her only jewelry.

  “Shall we go wow them in the dining hall?” Morgan asked. He presented his arm and Felicity took it as they started down the stairs. On the main level a butler waved them through broad double doors into the dining room.

  The décor in most of the house seemed rather Spartan but the dining room attempted to make up for it. A long table was set with white tablecloth and linen napkins, along with fine bone china and cut crystal glassware. A large chandelier hung above it. Francisco Bastidas sat at the far end of the table, playing master host. Herrera sat at his right hand in a tailored suit that disguised his muscularity but could not hide his bulk. Four others sat at the table, men Felicity assumed were the most important members of Bastidas’ team.

  “Is this his cabinet?” Morgan asked under his breath. One black suited figure stood beside the door and, at the sound of Morgan’s voice, he turned toward the newcomers with bulging eyes.

  “You!” Varilla shouted. Morgan shoved Felicity away from himself as Varilla reached for his gun. The action that followed was so fast, Felicity had to reconstruct it from memory to know what had happened.

  Like a magician’s trick cane, a revolver appeared in Varilla’s hand. Morgan stepped slightly forward and to his right. When Varilla swung his gun toward his target, Morgan ducked low and swung left. Varilla’s point of aim passed over Morgan’s head. He swung back quickly, but Morgan had stepped still closer and raised his right arm. The gun thumped into Morgan’s ribs below his arm. That arm snapped down, locking the gun hand in place. With his left, Morgan slapped Varilla’s elbow, swinging him around. With the pivot, Morgan brought Varilla’s face into the wall hard.

  Now they were both pressed against the wall, their faces a mere three inches from each other. Varilla’s arm was locked solid and as his hand numbed, the gun clattered to the parquet floor. Blood dribbled from Varilla’s nose. Morgan bared his teeth and spoke in a hushed, though clipped voice.

  “That’s twice, asshole. Now hear me good. If you ever decide to pull a gun on me again, it better be made of chocolate because I will damned…sure…make…you… eat it.”

  “Bravo,” Bastidas cried, clapping his hands. “I expect Mister Varilla needed to be taught some manners.” Morgan seemed calmed by the sheer absurdity of the situation. He chuckled, released Varilla, straightened his jacket, and moved to the table. Felicity stood before the empty chair on Bastidas’ left, as if nothing unusual had happened. Morgan pulled out her chair and seated her, then sat himself.

  “You are very good,” Herrera said as a servant brought salad. Felicity was surprised at his calm and polite voice. “Very quick, strong, and obviously skilled in hand to hand technique. May I ask what style?”

  “Wharangdo,” Morgan said. “It’s a Korean style. I started studying it in Vietnam when I was a teenager.”

  “We shall have to spar sometime. There is a fully equipped gymnasium below us. It’s open to you until ten every night. After that it’s mine.”

  When the entree arrived, Varilla joined the group. Felicity hesitated over her food.

  “It’s guacho,�
� Morgan told her, “a real good beans and rice dish. You’ll like it. And those are…”

  “I recognize tortillas, thanks.”

  “I must introduce you around the table,” Bastidas said, opening the dinner conversation. “Mister Herrera you know. Next to him is Doctor Nunez, my personal physician.”

  The doctor bowed his head. “How do you do.”

  “On his right is Chief Pizarro. He is the trainer of my crew which will take our completed submarine on her maiden voyage.”

  “Very pleased to meet you,” Pizarro said. He was all smiles.

  Bastidas continued. “Next is our chief physicist, Doctor Torrijos. He has turned my theories into reality.” Torrijos had a deep receding hairline, but he still wore his hair shoulder length all around. He bowed in place, then sneezed into his hand.

  “Sorry. I’m allergic to something around here.”

  Next Bastidas introduced his chief navigator, a Mister Franciscus, who blushed and seemed embarrassed his name was even mentioned. Varilla sat at the end of the line. Bastidas declared them Panamanians all, or of Panamanian descent, loyal to him and his cause.

  Felicity scanned the table from left to right, and raised her hand to cover a small giggle.

  “What’s funny?” Morgan asked.

  She simply said, “Later.”

  Dinner passed with minimal polite chatter. Bastidas seemed to enjoy playing host, but Felicity had the feeling he was eager to talk business. As she finished her meal he proved her right.

  “So, what is your appraisal of our security measures?” Bastidas asked, as servants cleared the dinner dishes.

  “I’m favorably impressed,” Morgan said. “Your guard posts are well concealed, and fields of fire are well laid out. I spotted some excellent trip wires in the right positions. The fence is tall enough and that concertina will discourage any casual intruder. Tomorrow we’ll check the sea approach.”