The Portal (A Delphi Group Thriller Book 2) (13 page)

After ending the call, Zane saw that Jorge had stopped to wait for him just ahead. The Brazilian lit the tip of a cigar, puffing until he was shrouded in smoke. “Did I hear you say they have some information about our target?”

“Someone has big ears.”

“Those big ears keep me alive in the jungle, senhor,” Jorge said with a wink.

“Regarding your question, they don’t have anything yet. They picked up something on satellite imagery but won’t have any details until tomorrow.” Zane pulled a canteen from his pack and took a long swig. “Ross didn’t sound overly concerned about the boot print.”

Jorge shrugged. “Maybe he’s right. No one can say for sure. Then again, who would’ve been out here with the storms we’ve had over the last two days? The biologists would likely stay on their boats until the weather clears.” He took a draw on his cigar then said, “Something just seems a little unusual about it.”

Zane was about to reply when a voice squawked out of his pants. “Sir, are you there?”

Zane pulled the radio out of his pocket. “Go ahead, Bennett.”

“I’m at the stream. I think you may want to see this.”

“We’ll be right there.”

As Zane and Jorge quickened their pace, Zane wondered what the Green Beret had found. He sounded concerned, but at the same time, his voice didn’t convey that he was in any sort of immediate danger.

A minute later, they rounded a bend and entered a clearing. Bennett was crouched on the far side by the stream, facing the other direction.
Maybe he found some footprints along the bank,
Zane thought.

Bennett looked up at them. “You did say there was supposed to be a bridge here, didn’t you?”

Jorge pulled to a stop, a look of shock forming on his face.

Zane knew from their discussions that there was supposed to be a rope-and-wood bridge here. In fact, Jorge had spoken to a man who passed through the area regularly, and he said it had still been in place just a month ago.

“Yes,” Jorge whispered.

Zane stepped closer to the bank and looked up and down the stream. Seeing nothing, he turned toward Jorge. “Could we be in the wrong place?”

Jorge shook his head. “There is only one trail, and we are on it. I even saw some landmarks I recognized along the way.”

Zane nodded.

Suddenly the Brazilian’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at a clump of ferns along the bank. He walked over and pulled some of the fronds back. “Just what I thought.”

Zane came and stood next to him. There, on the other side of the plants, were two posts with holes in the top. “I take it that was a part of the bridge?”

Jorge nodded but remained silent. He leaned forward and examined the wood more closely.

Zane looked out across the coffee-colored water of the stream. There was no sign of the bridge. No ropes, no boards. Nothing. As he drew his gaze back to the shore, he fixed his eyes on a slight impression in the soft sand at the water’s edge. He frowned. Moving past the posts, he jumped down onto the spit. He bent over and examined the lines closely. They looked like prints of some kind, but the moisture in the sand had already begun to smooth them out.

“You see something?” Bennett asked.

“Who knows?” he replied, standing. For now, he was going to keep the prior discovery of the footprint from the others. “Just looking for something that might tell us what happened.”

“One thing I can tell you is that it didn’t just fall,” Jorge said.

“Even with the storms we just had?”

“No, it was designed to rise with the waters. Some conservation group is responsible for its upkeep.”

Zane stepped back up onto the bank. “And you just had a contact verify that it was still in place a few weeks ago.”

Jorge nodded.

“Is there another way across?” Bennett asked. “Maybe we could try downstream.”

Jorge looked in both directions. “We probably need to cross here. The water shouldn’t be too deep.”

A voice spoke from behind them. “I think that’s a dumb idea.”

Zane turned and saw Max and Katiya approaching. The others were spilling out into the clearing just behind them.

“You don’t expect us to cross through that filth, do you?” Max asked.

“Max.” Katiya shot him a look.

“Fine, knock yourself out,” Zane said, removing a hatchet from his belt. He threw it toward the linguist hilt first. Max jumped but was able to catch it.

Max glared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You want to find another bridge then be my guest.” He pointed toward the tangle of vegetation along their side of the stream. “You can start hacking in either direction. Should only take you a day or two to find something better.”

“What’s going on?” Amanda asked as she neared the group. She stopped when she realized there was no bridge. “Oops.”

Zane looked at Jorge. “How deep is it?”

“Not very. Waist high, at most.”

Zane nodded. “Not bad.”

Artur nodded toward the water. “I’ve crossed many streams this size. As long as the bottom isn’t slippery, we should be able to cross.”

Max shook his head and mumbled something.

Zane picked up a small limb, hopped back down to the spit of sand, and plunged the stick into the water. When the tip reached the bottom, he felt a layer of mud. Pressing, he found solid ground about an inch down. “It’s not too bad. We’re just going to have to take our time.” He nodded at Jorge. “The two of us will enter first. Once we’re in the water, we’ll let you know if there are any issues.”

“Let’s do it,” Brett finally said.

Zane examined the others’ faces. With the exception of Max, most seemed to be fine with crossing.

Jorge pointed toward the trees. “You may want to find yourselves walking sticks. Anything to help you balance.”

Zane looked at his watch. “I’ll give you a couple of minutes to do that.”

There was another clap of thunder as everyone headed toward the trees. Zane looked at the surface of the stream. The rain hadn’t reached them yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer. He guessed they had a half hour to get across and set up camp, maybe less.

Suddenly, Zane heard a noise and caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head just in time to see a big swirl on the surface of the stream about a hundred yards away.

Probably a carp,
he thought.

AMANDA HAD JUST spotted a second tree limb when Zane blew a whistle, calling everyone back. She ran over to the base of a large tree, bent over, and picked it up. One end was gnarled and shaped like a handle.
Perfect.

She wasn’t thrilled about crossing the murky stream, but at least she’d have a couple of sticks to keep her steady.

Slipping them under her arm, she maneuvered through the maze of trunks and reentered the clearing. The others were exiting the forest at the same time.

“Nice,” said a voice.

She turned to see Brett walking up behind her.

She held up the one with the knobby end. “You like my cane?”

“I do. That’s almost as nice as my granny’s.”

“I have to confess I’m not big on this whole crossing the river thing,” Amanda whispered with a smile.

Brett frowned. “Why not?”

“Maybe it’s just me, but I’m not a fan of walking through water so dark I can’t see what’s around me. I’ve been that way ever since seeing
Jaws
as a kid.” She held up one of the sticks. “So, in addition to helping me with my balance, I won’t hesitate to put these babies to use.” She made like she was beating something with one of the sticks.

Brett grabbed her bicep with two fingers. “I feel for any caiman that might be foolish enough to challenge these.”

“Brett!” Amanda said, shaking her head.

“I’m joking, I’m joking. There aren’t going to be any caiman out there. They were all eaten by the anacondas.”

“You jerk!” She slapped his arm playfully. “I’m going to give
you
the end of this stick if you keep this up.”

Zane was about to speak when suddenly a clap of thunder boomed in the distance and a strong gust of wind rattled through the nearby trees. Everyone turned and looked skyward at the sound. Even the soldiers lifted their heads nervously. She liked the idea of crossing less with every passing second.

“Okay, make sure you have all of your gear, because we’re not making two trips,” Zane said.

“You sure this is still a good idea?” Brett asked, nodding in the direction of the last boom.

“It seemed close, but it’s still over a mile away,” Zane said. “If we move quickly, we’ll be across in plenty of time.” He nodded at Jorge, who was standing next to him. “My friend also reminded me that this storm could trigger some serious flooding. The stream is already well above its normal level, so another hard rain could make it rise another few feet overnight. And if that happens, there’s no telling how long we’d have to wait to get across. A day, perhaps two. Who knows? Unfortunately, we don’t have enough supplies to take that risk.”

Amanda watched as Max leaned toward Katiya and mumbled, “Does the idiot realize that if the lightning strikes the water—”

“Did I hear a question?” Zane asked, looking in their direction.

“Sorry, Zane,” Katiya said. “Please continue.”

Zane’s eyes lingered on Max for a moment. Amanda could tell that he’d about reached his tipping point with the linguist. Finally, he continued. “Jorge and I are going to cross first. Once we’re about halfway across, enter the water one at a time. Leave about ten feet between you and the person in front of you.”

“Why is that, Zane?” Katiya asked. “Don’t we want to be close together?”

“No. If one person slips, we don’t want to have a domino effect. I’ve seen it happen before. If any of you fall, make sure you get out of your pack and get up on two feet. If you need help, I’ll come get you.”

Katiya nodded. “That makes sense. Thank you.”

“Anyone else?” Zane scanned the faces gathered around. “If not, then let’s go.”

Zane and Jorge shouldered their packs and entered the water. The Brazilian wasn’t using a stick. He’d probably crossed hundreds of streams like this in his life.

As the two made their way across, the rest formed a line. Katiya, Max, and Bennett were ahead of Amanda, while Brett, Artur, Wilson, Tocchet, and Nash brought up the rear. She felt good knowing that she would be right behind Bennett. If forced to make your way through dark jungle water, it was good to have a Green Beret a few feet away.

A few minutes later, Zane reached the halfway point and gave the signal that all was clear. As far as she could tell, he and Jorge seemed fine. No bloodstains on their clothing and no missing limbs. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as she’d thought.

A few minutes later, Bennett sloshed out into the stream.

Here goes.

Amanda drew in a deep breath and stepped onto the thin strip of sand at the water’s edge. She looked at the water, and her pulse quickened. It was even darker than she’d thought. She could just about kill Brett right now for planting all those images in her mind. She suddenly pictured a twenty-foot anaconda slithering along the stream bottom, drawn by the motion in the water.

Pull yourself together.

Before entering, she looked ahead one last time. Bennett was about ten feet out, looking back and forth as he strode confidently through the water. If there was something to be worried about, the soldier sure didn’t show it.

Taking a deep breath, she waded out into the water. The bottom was exactly as Zane had described it: a thin layer of mud covering solid ground.

A minute later, Brett spoke from behind her. “How’s the water?”

Without turning, she said, “It’s not Waikiki, but I think I’m going to be okay.”

The bottom sloped downward, and suddenly she was in water up to her waist.

She stopped to gather herself.
Just keep going. Don’t stop and allow your fear to set in.

After pulling her pack further up her back, she continued on her way.
One foot after another,
she thought. Despite all her efforts to resist, she couldn’t help but occasionally glance down into the murky depths. The swirls of mud rolled into odd shapes. One moment they seemed like the slithering coils of a giant serpent, the next they formed the snout of a caiman.

When she was about halfway across, Amanda stepped out, but her right foot failed to touch the bottom. Instead it plunged downward into a hole. The surface of the water came toward her as she fell. Adjusting quickly, she extended her left foot and set it onto solid ground. Amazingly, she was able to maintain her balance.

“You okay?” Brett asked.

“I think so. Be careful, there’s a hole right here.”

She looked up. Bennett was about twenty or thirty feet away now, still looking back and forth as he moved strongly through the water. Her heart beat faster in her chest. She’d wanted to stay as close to him as possible.

Determined to make up ground, she pushed ahead. A few seconds later, Amanda noticed that Bennett had come to an abrupt halt. She frowned. His body language had changed completely. The rugged soldier was alert and staring at something down the stream to the right.

No, please no. Just keep going!

The soldier held up a pair of binoculars. Something had really drawn his attention.

There is nothing there. Please just keep going.

Unable to resist, Amanda turned to see what he was looking at. He seemed to be focused on a small cove on the far bank. As she watched, she thought she saw a slight ripple on the surface of the water.

Fish, Amanda. They’re just fish.

She looked toward the far bank. Zane was standing there, watching Bennett. The operative sensed something was wrong and looked ready to return to the water if necessary.

A shout suddenly broke the silence. “Everybody get moving! Now!” It was Bennett.

Amanda instinctively turned her head back toward the cove, and when she did, her blood ran cold.

Something massive swirled beneath the surface, sending ripples out into the stream.

It stayed in place for a moment then left the cove and began moving toward them with speed.

Amanda watched in horror as Bennett raised his rifle and squeezed off two shots in quick succession. After firing, he waded toward the swell then fired again.