Alpha Threat (20 page)

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Authors: Ron Smoak

Tags: #Action & Adventure

BOOK: Alpha Threat
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She had never been in this type of a situation.
 
She’d run across several Amazon tribes in her time but most were curious, especially when white people came into their midst.
 
This was different, very different.
 
The group could be in danger, not only for their well-being but their lives.
 
She wondered what would happen if these men caught them.
 
Would they kill them outright or would they drag them back to their lair and hold them for ransom?
  
Or would they kill the men and rape her repeatedly and turn her into their slave?
 
Hundreds of horrible to unthinkable scenarios ricocheted through her mind.
 
None were good, none.
 
She grabbed Randall’s arm and squeezed it so hard that what nails she had dug into his arm.
 

“Hey!” he yowled quietly.
 
“What are you trying to do to me?” he said looking at her.
 
He saw Dana’s face grimaced with fear.
 
This was fear he’d never seen in her before.
 
He put his arm around her and pulled her close.
 
She started to sob.
 
“It will be all right.
 
Manolo will get us out of this and we’ll laugh about it back at base in a few days.”
 
She buried her head into his chest as he looked out into the darkness.
 
The rain shower was slacking up.
 
He hoped he was right.
 
Damn, he hoped he was right.
 

Manolo crawled across the area communicating with each of the men in the group.
 
He finally found his brother, Tula.
 
He explained what was going on and their plan.
 
Tula was not impressed.
 
He told Manolo that they had heard at least three people in the area around them.
 
But he had not heard anyone in the past thirty minutes.
 
It seemed the men were trying to wait them out.
  
After about three minutes of agitated but quiet conversation, Tula agreed to scout an escape route.
 
Manolo crept back to where he had left the Finleys.
 

He told the Finleys Tula was heading out and would be back as soon as possible.
 
Randall thanked Manolo with a big smile and a reassuring pat on the back.
 
Then they all hunkered down waiting on the next move.
 
The rain stopped.
 

Tula had heard the men over behind the group and to the left.
 
He crept out to the right slowly but surely through the heavy jungle underbrush.
 
An experienced jungle guide himself, Tula knew how to move about the jungle without making much noise.
 
The wet ground helped muffle his footsteps.
 
He listened to the background noise and in his mind set a volume level he could meet and still not be heard over the jungle sounds.
 

Tula was now twenty meters away from the group.
 
He neither saw nor heard anything.
 
He found ants and many other insects out on their nocturnal feeding and travel operations.
 
He stopped and listened intently, filtering out the jungle sounds as best he could.
 
He heard nothing out of the ordinary.
 
He continued moving out and away from the others.
 
At about thirty-five meters Tula stopped again and plotted his circle back to his right.
 
He moved a few meters and then stopped to check for any other movement that might tell him someone else may have heard him moving.
 
Now fifteen meters back to his left he still had not seen nor heard anything leading him to believe there was someone out there.
 
He decided to stop one last time.
 

Something moved ahead.
 
Was it an animal or a man?
 
His experience told him that the largest animal in this area was a small leopard that hunted exclusively at night.
 
But he knew the cat was a very stealthy hunter.
 
If Tula could hear the cat, then its prey could hear the cat.
 
No, what he had heard was not a normal jungle sound.
 
There was someone out there.
 
But they seemed to be moving away from him about ten meters ahead.
 
He sat and listened as the man sounds moved away.
 
Soon he heard nothing.
 

Tula waited ten more minutes without hearing the men and then backtracked to the group.
 
He waited until he was within sight of one of Manolo’s other men before he called quietly to them.
 
Tula found Manolo and both scurried over to the Finleys.
 

“Tula says the men are gone.
 
They moved over to our right and moved away,” he explained as he waved his arm in the direction the men seemed to have gone.
 
“We can move out to our left a bit and rejoin the trail a mile or so back.
 
We will be safe then.”

“Sounds like a plan, Manolo,” Randall agreed.
 
“Get everybody together and let’s get the hell out of here.”
 


Si, Senhor
,” Manolo answered as he turned to tell his men what was planned.
 
After a few seconds of part Portuguese and part of some Amazon native tongue, Manolo turned to Randall.
 
“We are ready to go now.”

It was dark as hell.
 
No better way to put it.
 
One would think that sitting in the dark jungle for this long would enable their eyes to acclimate to the lack of light somewhat, but the blackness was so complete; they could barely make out large shapes much less a trail.
 
They crept away nonetheless.
 

Tula led the line of people through the jungle.
 
They crawled on their hands and knees under as much brush as they could and around what they could not.
 
Now that the rain had stopped, the condensation of the thick jungle humidity further soaked everything.
 
The good thing was the heavy moisture dampened the sounds of the group moving through the foliage.
 
Dana was almost glad it was dark.
 
She had put on gloves for the crawl through the jungle floor but still seemed to encounter many soft, slimy objects as she moved along on her hands and knees.
 
Thank God she couldn’t see what the objects were.
 

The group was crawling through the jungle looking like a giant millipede.
 
Tula was leading, Manolo second followed by Randall and Dana.
 
The remainder of Manolo’s men followed with the two men behind Dana carrying the radio equipment.
 
They left everything else behind except water.
 
No food.
 
They needed the extra speed, not the creature comforts of a full-fledged encampment.
 
They slugged along making surprisingly little additional noise over the jungle cacophony of the animals of the night.
 

They moved very slowly for nearly an hour when Tula stopped the group.
 

“What’s wrong?” questioned Manolo quietly.
 
“Did you hear something?”

Tula whispered something to Manolo.
 
Randall bit his lip.
 
Even he knew that they should be using some sort of silent hand signals instead of talking.
 
He knew that much from the war movies he had seen.
 
But it was still dark.
 
He nudged Manolo, hoping he would get the message.
 
Manolo turned to Randall.
 

“He thinks we can now move over to the trail,” whispered Manolo as Dana crawled up beside Randall to hear what was going on.
   
Manolo turned back to Tula and patted his back and motioned him to move on to the trail.
 

Dana whispered to Randall, “Are we out of danger?”

“I don’t know yet.
 
Maybe we are.
 
I will feel much better when we get way on down the trail and farther away from those men.”

“Me too,” sighed Dana.
  

It was now 6:00 a.m.
 
There was a slight brightness in the east as a new day began.
 
To the group in the jungle it seemed like someone had turned on a light bulb.
 
The strain was getting everyone.
 
After hours of moving at a snail’s pace through the jungle, their escape seemed successful.
 
Tula turned the caravan of crawlers to the right, hoping to intercept the trail.
 
After going on all fours for another twenty minutes, they stopped again.
 
Tula got to one knee and listened.
 
He heard nothing out of the ordinary.
 
He stood looking around in the dim light.
 
He turned to Manolo, who was kneeling behind him.
 

“The trail should be just ahead,” said Tula.
 
“It looks safe to me.”

Manolo stood gingerly, his eyes wide trying to gather as much light as he could to see in the ebbing darkness.
 
Following Manolo’s lead, Randall and the rest stood slowly.
 
Dana massaged her lower back trying to stretch out her muscles.
 
They all stood quietly, not wanting to move but at the same time wanting to run as fast as they could over to the trail and away.
 
After hours of the steady drone of jungle sounds, Randall’s and Dana’s ears felt numb.
 
The screeching never let up.
 

Tula went ahead through the underbrush and found the trail about fifteen yards ahead.
 
He returned and led the group ahead.
 

“Great.
 
At least we can now walk and make some time before morning,” a relieved Randall said to Manolo as they stepped quickly.
 
“Let’s get moving.”

Manolo turned to the group to see a red pinhead light hit Tula’s forehead a split second before Tula’s head popped like a grape.
 
There was a soft thud as Tula’s brains seemed to turn to a red and gray mist, pieces hitting Manolo and the Finleys.
 
Four more of Manolo’s men jerked violently as the same red pinprick lit on the men and several bullets ripped through them, blood spattering in all directions.
 

“Oh, God!” cried Dana as she stepped back after being spattered with blood and brains from both Tula and the man carrying the radio.
 
Randall looked at her and froze.
 
His mind was electrified.
 
Had Dana been shot?
 
She was covered with blood!
 
He instinctively grabbed her and fell to the ground.
 
She was screaming like a banshee.
 
Manolo had fallen as well but seemed to be all right.
 
The chaos of the moment surrounded the survivors, Randall, Dana and, Manolo.
 

Randall tried to quiet Dana.
 
As quickly as the chaos erupted, order was restored.
 
However, two very large men dressed in black and wearing helmets and night vision gear stood over them.
 
Four other black-dressed men stood around them encircling the group.
 

“You will stand up, now!” barked one of the men, “
Schnell!”
 
Two others came out of the darkness, reporting to the man that seemed to be the leader.
 

The Finley group stood, scared for their lives.
 
Randall held Dana tightly to his chest and glanced over to Tula’s lifeless body.
 
The bullet had literally carved a crevasse through Tula’s head, with both sides of his skull peeling back like a flower opening.
 
Tula’s eyes were open and bulging as if he had seen a ghost.
 
Randall quickly looked around and saw the other four bodies lying sprawled where they fell.
 
Thank God none of them knew what hit them.
   

Two of the men dressed in black began chattering quietly.
 
Randall could not see who they were talking to but did find it strange they were speaking German.
 
One of them stepped closer and Randall could see the small boom microphone near his lips.
 
The leader barked another undistinguishable order and within seconds black hoods were placed over the group’s heads.
 

“Stay quiet and you will not be hurt,” said one of the black-dressed men sharply.
 

“We are researchers,” said Randall, finally regaining his voice.
 
“We are not soldiers.
 
Please don’t harm us.”

“QUIET,” came a shout as Randall felt something hit him in the stomach.
 
He doubled over in pain and hit the ground.

“No!” screamed Dana as one of the men grabbed her roughly and whirled her around.
 
A second man quickly clamped handcuffs on her as another man did the same to Manolo.
 

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