by Greig Beck
Andy stayed where he was, not moving a muscle. The mud he had coated himself with was layered on thick and was like axle grease; also, it was as uncomfortable as hell. But it kept the insects away and hid most of his weird and attractive mammal odors from the beasts. Most of them anyway.
He identified the creature as a member of the Carcharodontosaurus genus—probably a Siats meekerorum—that lived in this area just 100 million years before Andy’s home time. Though there were theropods that were larger and heavier, this monster was one of the most powerful, and certainly most ferocious.
Andy continued to watch the path it had taken, or rather just bulldozed through the jungle, while still not moving out of his concealment. He remembered being involved in debates about whether these massive carnivores were hunters or scavengers—but now he knew. He’d seen with his own eyes the massive thunder beasts running down huge prey, using their bulk to knock them off balance, and then their car-sized head craning forward and massive jaws gaping wide to rip out throats or crush neck vertebrae. They were hunters all right. And damned good at it.
Finally, a tiny speck in the gargantuan jungle moved—Andy—coming out from amongst a tangle of mangrove-like tree roots. He opened his pouch and looked in at the tiny bird-like reptile. For once, Gluck kept his beak tightly shut, perhaps catching the scent of the apex predator and knowing that discretion wasn’t just the better part of valor, but the only thing keeping them alive.
Andy took a few cautious steps, stopped, and just let his eyes move across his path. He was a speck in a land of giants, and he turned slowly, looking over his shoulder. He’d learned a lot in his years in this time period, and one of those things was that the massive many-ton predators had an ability to be wraiths when they were hunting. They could be as silent as ghosts; one minute you thought you were alone, and the next there was a 10-ton shadow only a few hundred feet behind you.
Andy couldn’t count the number of near misses he’d had. All my lives are used up, he thought and grinned, his teeth and eyes glowing white through the caked mud.
It took him another 20 minutes before he felt safe enough to resume his normal pace. He stopped to lift his head and sniff deeply. He still wasn’t close—there was no hint of salt in the air. And not the murky salts of mineral pools or sulfurous magma vents, but the clean smell of brine.
When he was growing up, the one eye-opening thing that grabbed his attention and thrust him on the path toward studying, and eventually becoming a paleontologist, was the fossil sites referred to as bone beds. These were places where the remains of many species of dinosaur were found, and in some cases all jumbled together.
The center of America had once been submerged when sea levels were hundreds of feet higher. In the hot and humid times of the Cretaceous, the ice caps melted and the ocean had intruded deep into the continent’s heart. It had split the mighty landmass down the middle, creating two.
Andy had arrived on the eastern landmass called Appalachia. And across a vast inland sea was the western landmass called Laramidia. As the millions of years passed, the sea level dropped, and eventually, the inland sea became a massive lake. It had landlocked thousands of species of prehistoric creatures—some sprat-sized, and some the biggest sea monsters of their time. They became monstrous goldfish in a sea-sized bowl.
Finally, when the inland sea dried completely, the stranded animals became piles of corpses, and then fossilized. It became a kill box for the creatures, but a bonanza for future fossil hunters.
Since arriving in this time, it had always been one of his goals to see arguably the most famous of all the bone beds. But of course, today, in this time period, it wasn’t a bone bed at all.
Andy sniffed again. Damnit, I still have far to go, and it has already taken me… He paused, having a thought, and reached into his bag, eliciting a gluck of annoyance from his little friend.
“Move aside, buddy.” He pulled out a length of slate, roughly 12 inches long by 3 wide and 2 deep. On it was hundreds upon hundreds of scratch marks—his calendar stone. And at the top, his name in all capitals: “Andy.” He’d carved it when he still had a knife, now long rusted away.
“Wow, guess who’s coming back soon?” He looked up, but had no chance of seeing the sky through the thick tree canopy. Perhaps up there in the sky was the familiar eyebrow streak of the comet and its tail as it began its approach to our world.
“So what.” He replaced the calendar stone. But then looked up again. Imagine what the plateau looks like when the displacement actually starts to occur? he wondered, and then cursed. Damn my curiosity, he thought.
Gotta see my interior seaway first, he whispered. There was one problem—what would be the United States in 100 million years’ time was currently two massive continents. The western one, Laramidia, was a land of low plains. But unfortunately, he had arrived on Appalachia, and the mighty backbone of the Appalachian Mountains was already a line of towering peaks.
They were first formed around 480 million years ago during the Ordovician Period, where the mighty fold in the Earth’s surface thrust up to be of equal height to the Alps. Since then, natural erosion had worn them down a little, but during the Cretaceous—now—they’d still be a formidable climb. All he needed to do was cross them.
Andy sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled long and slow, feeling the fatigue and years drag on his skinny frame. He peeked into his bag, and the small pterosaur lifted its head.
“We can do it, Andy. And we still got time,” it said.
He grinned and nodded. “Damn right we do.”
CHAPTER 15
Mama’s Daughter’s Diner, Dallas, Texas
Drake pulled up out in front of the small, flat building that was like an island in the middle of a large concrete sea of a carpark. Hanging on the facade was a huge oval pink sign with swirling calligraphy announcing the place as Mama’s Daughter’s Diner.
He switched off the engine, held onto the steering wheel, and craned forward, looking out through the windscreen at the small building.
Ben scoffed. “In here?”
“Oh yeah. Best comfort food in Texas,” Drake said without turning. “They’ll be waiting.”
“And these guys are available for hire, huh?” Ben didn’t look that optimistic anymore.
Drake grinned. “Sure; a few days in and out, plus throw in an extra two weeks for training and acclimatization, and all up I guess we only need to buy these guys for a month, maybe an extra week here and there.”
“What should I pay?” Ben asked. “You know them.”
“Too little, and they’ll tell you to hit the highway. Too much, and they’ll smell a rat.” He bobbed his head. “Nah, there’s no such thing as too much for these guys.”
“Yeah, well, we don’t have a lot of time to hold too many rounds of interviews. I’d prefer to offer top of scale than to haggle over pennies. Besides, since I inherited the estate, I’ve got more money than I can spend.” Ben sat back.
“That’s why you’re my best friend.” Drake chuckled. “But you’re right; they’re greedy, so a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow will get their attention.”
Drake rested his forearms on the wheel. “I’ve worked with them, and then fired them because they were mavericks and risk takers. Don’t want that in a legitimate security business.” He turned and grinned. “But in a suicidal mission back to the dawn of time, well, they’d be perfect…and expendable.”
Ben chuckled. “And so?”
“And so, a million bucks apiece. 10% on lift-off, the rest when we get home.” Drake’s face became serious when Ben’s eyebrows went up. “You want them to say yes without even stopping and thinking about it, right?”
“Shit. Big payday.” Ben blew air through his lips. “But at least I like the way you back-loaded the deal. After all, how many will actually be alive to collect?”
“All of them if everything goes to plan.” Drake briefly looked around the near vacant carpark.
“What have
they been doing since they left your fruitful employ?” Ben asked.
“Knowing them, bad shit. They’re no angels.” Drake elbowed his door open. “Let’s go and meet them.” He paused and then leaned back into the car. “Oh yeah, one more thing.” He grinned. “Don’t expect any of them to be shrinking violets.”
“You don’t say.” Ben chuckled and stepped out himself.
Ben and Drake crossed the carpark and pushed in through one of the double doors, making a small bell tingle overhead. Both men stood just inside, surveying the interior; there were a few people scattered about, and on one wall was a sign that read: No dessert till you eat everything on your plate.
Ben smiled. “Mama sure sounds like one tough old bird.”
Drake nudged him and nodded toward two huge guys at a booth. Only one was watching him, the other picked at a plate of food.
“Two there, two more at the counter, and one at the far booth.”
Ben looked from person to person—two solid dudes at the booth, two women that looked like they chewed barbed wire for breakfast at the counter, and another guy the size of a small mountain in the far booth. They had spread themselves out to look random, but to the trained eye, it was more like they were expecting an ambush.
All except one seemed interested in the pair of new arrivals. But Ben bet his bottom dollar that when he and Drake had crossed the carpark they had all watched like hawks.
“And these guys are your buddies, right?” Ben asked.
“Sort of.” Drake bobbed his head. “Like I said, they used to work for me…and I fired every one of them.”
“Well then, this should go smoothly.” Ben and Drake took a booth and the waitress came with a notepad.
“Coffee and a chicken club,” Ben said. “Bacon extra crispy.”
“Make it two,” Drake added.
The waitress nodded and left and then Drake eased back against the vinyl and threw an arm out along the top of the booth seat. “Now we wait.”
And they didn’t have to wait long. One of the guys from the booth who had been watching them lifted his coffee cup and sidled over, sliding in next to Ben and bumping him along. Ben was a big guy, but this guy had to be 6”2’, and had 20 pounds on him. Plus about a dozen years.
“Drake.” The guy nodded.
“Chess.” Drake smiled and continued to lounge back. He nodded toward Ben. “My buddy, Ben Cartwright. The guy I told you about.”
Ben nodded, and Chess turned an eye on him to give him the once over and then looked back to Drake.
“You said you wanted to see us about a job?” His mouth turned down momentarily. “Pretty busy right now.”
“Sure you are.” Drake waited as the waitress slid their coffees in front of them and left. Drake lifted it and inhaled the aroma. “Playing pool, being hungover, and a bit of petty crime is a full-time job.”
“Smartass,” Chess snarled. “Is there a job or not?”
“Yep, and one that might be your last.” Drake stared back with an unwavering gaze.
Chess frowned. “What’s that mean?”
Drake chuckled, and Ben shook his head. “I mean, the payday is so good, you may never have to work again.”
Chess waved it away. “Getting too old to be an outlaw, brother.”
“Nothing illegal, as if that ever bothered you. But it is…unusual.” Drake waited with a half-smile still on his lips.
“But I’m betting dangerous as all fuck,” Chess shot back. “Right?”
“You bet.” Drake laughed.
Chess stared for several seconds until the waitress appeared again. “Anything else for you boys?”
“Yeah.” Chess looked up. “Five servings of pie for my posse, and put it on this guy here’s tab. Wait, put all our bills on his tab.” He grinned.
The waitress’ eyes slid to Drake who nodded once.
“Okay.” She hustled away.
Chess folded tattooed arms. “That just bought you both some listening time. Go on.”
Drake looked to Ben who gave him the go ahead. He leaned forward. “A quick snatch…a rescue. A month’s work between here and down in the Amazon. And when we’re ready, in and out in two days. If everything goes to plan,” Drake said.
“We’ve done snatches before, but the Amazon, man. Bad news.” Chess whistled. “Have to think about it.”
“A million bucks. Each,” Ben said, evenly. “So think quick.”
Chess didn’t flinch, but the corners of his mouth twitched. He turned and waved for the other four members of his team to come and crowd into the next booths to listen.
Chess looked at each of them. “Guy here says the job pays a million bucks, each, for a simple snatch, ah, rescue.” He turned back. “For that sort of cabbage, who is it, some drug lord, the president? Who?”
Drake shook his head. “Nobody you know, and nobody important. Who it is doesn’t matter. But we need to bring them home from the Amazon, fast.” Drake’s eyes were level. “And yeah, you heard right, a million bucks each. $100,000 when you get on the plane, and then $900,000 more when you get off back home, with our guy.” He lifted his chin. “And I never said the job was simple.”
One of the women leaned toward their booth, and then right into Ben’s ear. “Sounds like bullshit, man; what’s the catch?”
Ben leaned away from her mouth. “Possibly, probably, going to be a suicide mission.”
“Ooh.” She scoffed, turned to Drake, and thumbed toward Ben. “You gonna tell us who this guy is?”
“He’s a buddy of mine; we used to work together. This here is Captain Benjamin Cartwright, formerly Special Forces. And he’s also been where we’re going. So if you sign up, you listen up when he speaks, because he’s the boss.” Drake grinned with zero humor. “And one more thing: he’s also the guy that pays the bills.”
“Used to be Spec Forces,” the woman said. “And I’ve been to the Amazon more’n a dozen times. It’s just another freaking jungle full of wet heat, bugs, and snakes. But for a million bucks, Mr. Fuckstick, I’d go to the moon.”
Chess turned. “That’s enough, Shawna.” He thumbed to the four people in the booths surrounding them, starting with the two big men. “Buster and Francis. The mouth here is Shawna, and the nice one is Balls.”
Ben tried not to laugh as he turned and nodded to each, finishing on Balls. She was a 30-something Latin American-looking woman with a slight dent in her lips, indicating an old split lip that hadn’t knitted right. Her face was pleasant enough, but her eyes were dead. Ben had seen that look before, usually in Vets that had seen it all. He didn’t think for a second she wasn’t as tough as they come. Ben looked again at each of Chess’ crew. In fact, they all looked fearless and formidable. Good, he thought.
“Got another name?” he asked Balls.
She smirked. “Bianca Alejandra Leticia Sofia.”
“I see; Balls.” Ben grinned. “I’m gonna go with Bianca; how’s that?”
She shrugged. “For the money you’re paying, you can call me what you like.”
“Yeah, for a million bucks, we’re all in,” Chess said and looked over his shoulder at his pals. “Right?”
They all agreed. “Money for old rope.” Shawna winked. “And we get 100Gs, just for saying yes?”
“No, you get 100Gs for getting on the plane, and after it takes off. And after your training. And when I’m happy that you’re ready,” Ben replied.
“Too many rules.” Chess looked at Ben with disdain. “If you don’t mind, we’ll speak to Drake. We don’t really know you.”
“Too late; you said you were in, so basically you’re on my payroll and work for me. Don’t like it, the door’s that way.” Ben nosed toward the door and then shrugged. “We got plenty more down and out Mercs to interview, and the day is still young.”
Chess’ eye narrowed. “That right?”
“Now you’re getting it.” Ben just smiled.
Chess’ jaw jutted. “Hey, Drake, I don’t think I like your buddy.” He
lunged forward, grabbing for Ben’s collar.
In the blink of an eye, Ben gripped his wrist, half turned it, and used his other hand to take the big man’s hand and give it another twist, turning it upside down, and wrenching it all the way up to the man’s shoulder. He then held it with ease, his eyes half-lidded with boredom.
Chess grimaced, his entire body leaning out, while Ben held him in check with just one hand. He looked like he was struggling hard not to show pain.
“You don’t like me, but you’ll take my money,” Ben said. “That is, if you live to get it.” He sat forward, still hanging on as Chess gritted his teeth. “And you know what? I don’t want you to like me, because I don’t want to like you. If you come on this mission, you may die. Maybe all of you will die, so I don’t want to be your friend, or have to care about you. Got it?”
Chess’ teeth were clamped.
“Got it?” Ben repeated, applying a little more pressure.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” Chess seethed.
Ben let him go.
Chess sat back rubbing his shoulder and just glared. His friends looked like they didn’t know whether to pile in on Ben or laugh out loud.
“Told you not to mess with him.” Drake grinned as the five Mercs stared, but seemed more surprised than anything else. Drake raised his eyebrows. “What? You thought he was going to pay you a million bucks to have a holiday? We meant it when we said this mission is bordering on suicidal, and you’ve all said yes without even hearing the details.”
“We’ve been to tougher places than the Amazon.” Bianca lifted her chin. “And we’re all listening now Mr. Special Forces… Mr. Ex Special Forces.”
Ben turned to her. “Self-preservation finally winning over greed, huh? It’s good to worry about your own skin.”
She nodded. “Nothing I’m scared of. Not in this world.”
“Nothing in this world.” Drake chuckled. “In this world, at this time. And I used to be the same.”