Jake inched forward and offered her his full attention. “This is the shoreline of the Niger Delta.” She moved her hand toward the bottom of the picture and ran it upward in an arc from the edge of Port Harcourt up and past the area where they stopped at the levy. “Here’s Port Harcourt in the south and Warri in the north.” Cassidy placed her hand over the center of the line. “This is the middle of the delta proper. This appears to indicate that during the Jurassic period the earth shifted, forcing this section down and into a bowl shape.”
“Okay,” Jake said, although the tone of his voice indicated he was uncertain of what she implied.
Cassidy twisted around and faced him. “This date here …”—she tapped her nail on a crudely scribbled date written in red pen—“shows that this bowl of crude oil reached its full capacity two years ago, shifting the fault planes and leaking into existing veins of oil from the Paleocene era. But the pressure was too powerful and forced another shift in the earth’s crust.”
“And?”
“That lake, sea, whatever …”—she gripped his arm and pointed back over her shoulder—“is all oil. It’s endless. Jake, this resource of crude is not only the purest in the world but an amount larger and greater than anything within the Middle East or the rest of our continents.”
Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Which means that NWP would control the world’s largest source of oil?”
“Worth killing for?”
He shrugged. “If you’re into that sort of thing. But yeah, I guess for a guy like Cole it’s worth killing for.”
“We need to grab a sample, take pictures, and deliver it as proof to President Nuna. If mined properly, this oil could provide Nigeria with steady income for hundreds of years. The potential of bringing West Africa out of its third world status is here.”
Jake didn’t answer immediately, but when he did, his words froze the blood in Cassidy’s veins. “Along with the potential of igniting World War III and bringing more blood and destruction to the Ivory Coast.” He sighed and stepped away from her. “It’s ironic. A land so rich in resources yet so scarred by death.”
His words echoed within the cavern, bouncing back at them until they faded beneath a more ominous sound.
The rapid staccato of an AK-47 machine gun.
CHAPTER 39
JAKE PUSHED HER ROUGHLY AGAINST THE WALL. “STAY HERE.”
Cassidy frowned as he made his way toward the entrance of the cavern. “Like hell.” He glared over his shoulder but didn’t prevent her from following. The gunfire was random, flowing in a wild rhythm, stopping completely, then trickling into a few final bursts.
“I don’t think these are NWP men.”
Gunfire was gunfire to Cassidy. She didn’t care whose finger itched the trigger, the end of the story remained the same. Dead. Deader. Deadest. Not good. “Let’s get back to the boat.”
“What about your sample?”
Cassidy chewed her bottom lip. “This is too dangerous. Our lives aren’t worth it.” Frustration and indecision made her voice harsh in the silence of the cave. “We’ll come back.” Jake stared at her for an excruciating amount of time. She shuffled from one foot to the other and pointed toward the cave entrance. “We’ll come back.” This time her voice was stronger, more committed.
Jake gave her a sharp nod and proceeded toward the mouth of the cave. Gunfire still wavered on the night air, but now it broke the silence above an area farther north of their location. The grounds clear of invaders, Jake signaled her to follow.
Cassidy paused before exiting the cavern. Her fingers gripped the edge of the rock, and sadness welled from the very bottom of her soul, slicing through her chest with the viciousness of a machete. Because of this, she’d lost half her heart, half her world. She’d lost Steve.
A warm hand reached for her, strong fingers intertwining between hers. Cassidy tilted her head up, gazed into Jake’s eyes, and saw the other half of her heart.
Jake and Cassidy returned to the rebel camp. Exhausted, but in turn jubilant at their discovery.
“I need to contact Colonel Price and formulate our next course of action.” Jake moved to the edge of the woods and signaled for Anna to follow him. “I’d like you to update me on the whereabouts of the Ijwo and their actions tonight.”
Cassidy smiled as one of the native women approached her with a crudely carved wooden bowl. “Wine,” the woman said and handed it to Cassidy. “Go sit against that rock. It will relax you.”
Not wanting to offend the woman, Cassidy accepted the bowl of fermented fruit and headed in the direction she pointed.
She settled against a large rock, content to watch the graceful moves of the women and old men as they leapt in a circle and sang to their gods for deliverance. Cassidy’s eyes drifted closed, and she allowed herself a brief moment of respite from the uneasiness that plagued her mind.
A rustle of leaves behind the boulder shot a bolt of fear through her heart. Cassidy sat up, glancing around the rock.
Nothing.
She laughed softly at her nerves and rested back against the hard surface. She thought the hum of native singing and percussion of drums must be echoing through the jungles, creating strange noises.
A twig snapped.
She moved quickly and crouched in a defensive attack position, studying the dark patch behind the rock. This was not her imagination. “Who’s there?”
No answer.
Cassidy reached down, feeling along her jeans for her knife. An eerie sound drifted across the night. A soft melody that contrasted with the wild beat of native drums. “Hush, little baby, don’t you cry …”
Cassidy inhaled sharply as the breath was knocked from her chest. An arrow of pain shot across her breasts, burning and searching for a place to escape her body. She dropped her knife, tilted her head back, and screamed into the night, but her throat was dry and no sound emerged.
Fire. Her veins were on fire. Cassidy dropped to the ground, turning her head and staring into the eyes of Michelle. “What?”
Michelle brandished an empty needle, then tossed it behind her. “Salutations from Robert Cole.”
Jake traipsed after Anna, following a group of men into the jungle. The soft ground muffled their steps, and the men before him became ghosts floating silently between the clusters of mangrove forests. They paused at a clearing, and he signaled for the rebel leaders to approach. Anna stood beside him in case she needed to translate. The beating of the drums added an eerie background noise and he swore softly, wishing this feeling of dread and fear would unknot his insides.
Motioning to the men, he crouched and listened to their individual reports. A man lifted his head and spoke above the others. “I am Sunday. I’ll be watching you until you leave this area. We found only large gatherings of Kill-and-Go to the south. They didn’t head your way, and we didn’t cause any bloodshed.”
Jake smiled, hiding his concern. “Thank you, Sunday.” If Kill-and-Go were congregating in the south, then Robert Cole must be close, which meant the virus had definitely reached the Niger Delta.
“If you need me, you must whistle.”
Jake nodded and clapped the man on his shoulder, thanking him. He watched as Sunday broke the men into separate groups and thanked them for their participation. With a quick glance over his shoulder, the man’s face split into a wide smile flashing bright white teeth at Jake. He brandished his gun in one hand and lifted a sharp-edged machete in the other. “We go.” They melted into the night until only Jake and Anna remained in the clearing.
He frowned and found himself chewing his bottom lip. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head that he’d succumbed to Cassidy’s habit, he pointed back toward the direction they’d come from. “Let’s go get Cassidy. I want you to remain in the village until morning in case something crops up that I need to be aware of.”
Anna nodded and headed past a cluster of mangroves. “That’ll be fine.”
Michelle withdrew a gun and dug it into Cassidy’
s temple. The woman’s eyes reminded Cassidy of Nick Fowler’s. Wild and unrestrained. Evil. “You have more personalities than Cybil.” Cassidy spat in her face, attempting to block out the ramifications of what she thought ran through her veins. “I take it this is a little taste of what was cooked up in Yellowstone?”
Michelle hissed and pinched Cassidy’s arm where the needle had penetrated. “Oh yeah. But, hey, take heart. You’re gonna be famous. You’ll go down in the history books as the mad scientist that killed the Niger Delta.” Her gaze narrowed, and Michelle gripped Cassidy’s arm. “Now, I’ve lost patience. Where’s the survey?”
A flash of the punching bag entered her mind, and Cassidy remembered her vow. Better, stronger, smarter. Strength in pain. Oh, no, sister. I’m not going to die alone. Cassidy twisted toward the woman, her elbow slamming into Michelle’s chest and knocking the gun from her hand. She grabbed the ecologist’s arm, wrapping her fingers around the woman’s wrist with an iron grip and yanking Michelle toward her. Cassidy sank her teeth into flesh. Her jaw locked and she pushed deeper, making certain the skin burst and the salty taste of warm blood flooded her mouth. “Salutations from me, bitch.” Cassidy spit blood and torn flesh onto the ground, wiping the back of her hand against her mouth.
Michelle screeched in pain and swore, clipping Cassidy under the jaw with the sharp edge of her knuckles. “You fool. I’ll return to headquarters and inject the antidote while you lay here dying, alone and unloved with these disgusting natives you care for so much.” She bent forward and lowered her voice. “If you give me the survey, I’ll consider sending you back the antidote.”
Cassidy was no fool. She concentrated on fighting the automatic urge to check the swatch of packing tape that secured the survey in place. The flash drive she’d taped beneath her breast felt as if it weighed a million pounds and blinked on and off like a neon sign. “I don’t have it,” she lied.
“Bitch. I know you do. It was on the plane.”
Deciding to switch tactics, she softened her voice. “How could you possibly turn your back on ZEBRA after all your years of service?”
Michelle swiped her arm against the sweat forming on her forehead, leaving a red smudge on her cheek from the bite Cassidy had inflicted. “Robert Cole is an incredible man. He’s going to make the world sit up and take notice.”
Realization dawned, and Cassidy’s eyes widened. “You’re in love with him?”
“Give me the survey, Cassidy, and I’ll come back. I promise.”
Shaking her head, she hissed at Michelle. “Never. When Sharpe finds out about your betrayal, you’ll be blacklisted and alone. Think of that.” Cassidy gazed beyond Michelle’s shoulder, noticing that the villagers had ceased dancing and were staring in her direction.
“Drew?” Michelle laughed softly, glancing over her shoulder nervously. “He’s dead.”
Cassidy lost her breath and struggled to swallow. “What?”
“Such a shame. It appears he couldn’t stomach the idea of your part in this little adventure.”
“My part?”
Michelle sat back on her haunches and retrieved her gun from the dirt. “Sure. In awhile, you’ll be too sick to talk. These people care for you; they’ll take whatever measures are necessary to make you better.” She bent closer and whispered in Cassidy’s ear, her breath hot and feeling as dangerous as a viper’s bite. “You’re going to spread this disease, Cassidy. It’ll be you. You’ll kill the Niger Delta.” Michelle’s patience snapped, and she yelled. “Where’s the damn survey?”
The echo of the ecologist’s voice drew the attention of the villagers. Several men headed in their direction.
Michelle swore.
“You’ll be stuck here with me,” Cassidy said. “No chance at that antidote.” She gazed beyond the woman at the crude weapons carried by the tribal elders. Michelle’s eyes were wide with indecision, but the urge for survival won and the woman backed away, disappearing into the wavering shadows of a mangrove tree.
Cassidy whimpered, a tear slipping down her cheek. Her blood a river of fire as it poured poison into her veins. She needed to stay conscious long enough to warn off the villagers.
Edward rested his head upon the cool surface of the sterile laboratory counters. His body ached from the rough handling of his captivity, and the crude stitches in his ear were not holding up. Blood seeped onto his arm, but he ignored it. Over the past few hours, he’d succumbed to the truth of his future.
There was none.
The laboratory door opened, and a slender woman in her mid-forties entered. She wore all black, which accentuated the curves of her body. He lifted his head and sat up, struggling against the threat of fading into a faint.
“Fiske?” Her voice cut the silence of the lab in two.
“Yes.”
“Give me the antidote for CPV-19.”
Edward slid off his chair and shuffled toward the silver briefcase. He snapped open the lid and handed the woman a vial.
“Syringe?”
Alarmed, he studied her face. A thin line of blood leaked from the edge of her ear and her breathing appeared labored and thick with mucus. He twisted around and grabbed a sterile syringe from a box on the counter. “Here.” Edward pushed it in her direction.
She snatched it up, broke the end open, and plunged it into the vial of antidote. “How much?”
“One cc”
The woman released the plunger, expelling what she didn’t need, then jammed the needle into her arm. She moved forward and gripped the edge of the countertop as the antidote flooded her veins. Edward knew from personal experience the burning sensation followed by cold numbness that raged through the woman’s body.
After a few moments, she lifted her head and moved into the center of the room. His eyes widened when he recognized the insignia on her shirt. ZEBRA. “Are you here to rescue me?”
She smiled and nodded. “Yes. I’m here to deliver you to your Maker.”
Her arm lifted, and he peered down the barrel of a gun. Edward closed his eyes and said a final prayer. He felt a wave of relief at no longer having to carry the burden of the horrible disease his ego created.
Gunfire sounded, and the world went black.
Jake moved through the trees, alerted by the cessation of the ceremonial drums. His pulse beat rapidly, and fear grabbed his gut and twisted painfully. He paused, his hand resting lightly on the slick bark of a mangrove tree. The tempo of the village had changed since his departure. No longer were figures dancing and singing around a center pyre; they were gathered and pacing in worried circles. Jake searched the area for Cassidy.
He swore. Her blond hair should be a lighthouse among the dark-skinned Ijwo. One of the medicine men stepped forward and grabbed Jake by the elbow. “Come here.”
Jake glanced back at Anna, who shook her head, as confused and worried as he was. “What’s going on?”
“Your woman …” The man pointed toward one of the low-rise concrete buildings.
Jake’s breath caught, and he shook off the man’s hand and ran toward the building. He went to enter, but another man grabbed his shoulders. Jake struggled, shouting Cassidy’s name. He broke through the web of hands and crashed into the building, slamming the door open.
“Come no closer,” a loud voice commanded from the dark interior.
Jake squinted and recognized the man in the ornate beaded shirt with feathers and bird claws hanging from his dreadlocks as the one who’d approached Cassidy earlier that night and asked her to stay. “What’s the meaning of this?” Jake’s eyes searched the dim light of the room, and he spied a streak of golden hair in the far corner. Jake moved forward but the black man held his arm, the power of his grip stopping Jake. “Let go.”
“No farther.”
Jake heard a rustle and squinted through the darkness at Cassidy. She struggled to her elbow, holding her palm out in his direction. “Stop, Jake. Listen.” Her breathing was ragged, and he could hear the pain in her voice. “Michelle. Sh
e infected me.” His heart clenched as her entire body shook with the energy she used to speak. “Antidote at NWP.”
He swallowed and inhaled, calming his panic. “Cole has an antidote?”
Cassidy nodded weakly. “Go. Hurry.” She collapsed back against the thin mattress.
Jake closed his eyes and reached a hand in her direction, pointing an accusing finger at her. “I told you not to do this anymore.”
“Do what?” Her voice drifted into a soft chuckle.
He couldn’t stand facing her illness. Jake spun on his heels and headed out of the building, yelling over his shoulder. “You know what.” He paused outside the building and pointed a finger at the two witch doctors conversing softly in their singsong version of Pidgin English. “She dies. So do you.”
The man who’d prevented him from moving closer to Cassidy gripped his shoulder. “Bad mojo running through her body. She try to keep me away, but I tell her my life for our land is an easy sacrifice. Be swift so that we may fight this black magic.”
Jake nodded. “Keep her alive.” He ran into the clearing, moving around the bodies of the concerned villagers. Fighting back their questions, Jake fled into the jungle, keeping his pace steady. He whistled through his teeth as he ran. Time. Damn. How long did he have? His brain ran through a million scenarios, and not one was satisfactory. He’d never realized he’d been lonely, not until her touch and warm laughter claimed his heart and his world brightened beyond anything he’d dreamed possible. Without Cassidy, the future felt empty.
He paused, bending over and heaving in deep breaths. Glancing around wild-eyed, he swore at himself for running headlong into the jungle without bothering with direction. The rustle of leaves and a cracking twig snapped his attention to his left. Sunday stepped from the shadows of an overgrown fig bush. “You need help?”
Jake laughed bitterly and pushed his hair off his forehead. “Hell, yes. Can you lead me downriver?”
Sunday nodded. “Your woman?”
Devil's Gold Page 35