Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3) (13 page)

She wasn’t going to make it.  It was still too far to Tarpon, which meant another night on one of the chickee platforms.  Something she was trying to avoid given her inauspicious morning.  The fear that the two men might still be watching her would make sleeping almost impossible.  It was going to be a very long night.

Then suddenly, her cell phone rang from inside her heavy pack.  She was back in range again.  Neely dropped the paddle at her feet and quickly dug the phone out of her bag before it went to voicemail.  The number on the screen was unknown.

“Neely Lawton.”

“Neely, hi.  This is Alison Shaw.  We met a few weeks ago on the-”

“I remember you, Alison.  How are you?”

“I’m fine.  How are
you
?”

Neely gazed across the bay, its still water reflecting the azure sky above it like a mirror.  “It’s been a mixed day.  What can I do for you?”

“Well, actually, if you have some time I need to talk to you about something.  Something important.”

Neely leaned back in her seat and stretched her legs out.  “I have a lot of time at the moment.”  She paused, thinking.  “How did you get a hold of me?”

“Through Admiral Langford.”

“Admiral Langford?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.  Okay then...shoot.”

She heard Alison take a breath on the other end.

“It’s about something you mentioned the last time we talked.  About what happened in Guyana.  More specifically, the plants you were examining aboard the ship.”

“Okay.”

“Well, the thing is,” Alison said, “I think I’m seeing something similar here.”

Neely’s eyes widened.  “What?  Where?!”

“In Puerto Rico.  Here in my lab.”

“Puerto Rico?”

“Yes.  At our research center.”

“What kind of-”

Alison stopped her.  “It’s a long story, and probably too much to try to explain on the phone.  But I’m wondering if you could make a trip down here.  We could use your help.”

“Yes,” she answered immediately.  “Yes, I can.”  Neely suddenly paused, realizing where she was.  “Um, it may take a little time to get there.  I’m not exactly close to an airport.”

“That should not be a problem.  I think Admiral Langford is dispatching a ride for you.”

“Does he even know where I am?”

“He said he had Wil Borger searching for you.  I’m guessing that probably won’t take him very long.”

Neely smiled on the other end.  It was the first smile in what felt like a very long time, and she had to admit it felt good.  “Well, Alison.  I must admit, your timing probably could not be better.”

From her chair, DeeAnn watched Alison as she ended the call.  “So you called in your favor.”

“I had to.”

DeeAnn nodded.  She looked past Alison to the double doors leading to the lobby.

Alison followed her gaze with a curious look.  “What is it?”

“Sofia.”  DeeAnn looked back.  “I’ve been thinking about her since she first came here and especially after seeing her now.”  She looked down at the table, wiping it absently with her hand.  “I keep thinking about her in that wheelchair, knowing that the end was coming and yet still fighting.  She wasn’t ready to give up a single moment.  At least not willingly.”

Alison grinned.  “That’s true.”

DeeAnn shook her head.  “Can you imagine how afraid she’s been?  Every hour of every day, knowing what’s coming?  And she’s
still
fighting.”  She turned to Alison incredulously.  “She’s eight, Alison.  Eight!”

“Yet here I am.  At my age, afraid of what might happen by going back into that jungle.  But Sofia
knows
what’s going to happen.  I am trying to hide…while that girl is trying to
live
.  Do you know how small that makes me feel?  Or how horrible?”

“We all have to live our own lives, Dee.  We have to make our own decisions.”

DeeAnn shrugged.  “And now Steve is going back, trying to protect something that may cause almost unimaginable ramifications, both good and bad.  Something that any country would probably kill over.  And now what if that something was actually able to help Sofia?  What if it were able to help others like her?”

Alison didn’t answer.

“So, say something does happen to me, Ali.  Exactly how many more lives is mine worth?  And even worse, what happens to them if Steve fails…because I wouldn’t help?”

“I don’t think it’s that easy,” Alison replied softly.

“No?  Then please tell me how I look someone like Sofia in the eyes from now on, after I refused to go?”

DeeAnn remained quiet, allowing the room to fall silent before she finally leaned forward and stood up.

Alison’s eyes widened.  “So…are you saying, you’re going with Steve?”

“Not without talking to Juan first.”

20

The small base which housed the infamous Naval Special Warfare Development Group (NSWDG), also known as DEVGRU, was smaller than most would imagine.  It was also quieter, located on fewer than fifteen acres, and hosted a dozen buildings of varying sizes.  The legendary base was also less elaborate than its reputation suggested, but what it lacked in visual awe from the outside, it more than made up for inside.

Less than four miles due south of Virginia Beach, the home of NSWDG in Dam Neck, Virginia, was rumored to have an operational training budget almost surpassing that of the entire U.S. Marine Corps.  This guaranteed that the team once known as SEAL Team Six had access to the most modern weapons and fighting technology available on the planet.  And the training areas both inside and below ground proved it.

It was also here, in the base’s southernmost and largely nondescript building, where Steve Caesare stared down at a large 3D tabletop image before him.  Resting his hands on either side, he was shaking his head slowly. 
This was going to be difficult. 

Serious missions were usually planned by multiple SEAL operators to ensure every conceivable scenario and logistical detail was considered.  But this time Caesare and his men were on their own.  Under direct orders from Admiral Langford, they were instructed to get in and out with the least number of people knowing, no matter what resources it took.  Whatever they needed, Langford would get.

But resources weren’t the problem.  In fact, Caesare was sure that no material item in the world, short of an invisibility cloak, was going to help them here.

The large Italian mused at his last thought, knowing the DoD was actually working on that very idea.  It was done by bending light with fiber optics, but it was still decades away.  All he knew was that a cloak like that would be damn handy about now.

Another problem was their inability to rehearse the mission prior to execution.  Rehearsals were something SEALs did without fail, followed by a thorough debrief.  This was the first mission the three younger team members would have without the benefit of either, and the concern was obvious on their chiseled faces.

Facing Caesare on all sides, Corso, Anderson, and Tiewater stood around the table, coming to similar conclusions.  Ignoring the fact that they’d never been sent to rescue a primate before, the logistics involved in getting in and out unseen were problematic at best.  And that was putting it mildly.

An army from Brazil’s Eighth Military Region was mobilizing at its base in Belem, the nearest base to the Acarai Mountains.   According to reports from Wil Borger, the Guyana government was furious over what the Chinese had done and were denying all requests asking for access to the area.  And as facts inevitably began leaking out, their neighbors Venezuela and Suriname were doing the same.

Venezuela was out as an entry point for obvious reasons, and any other airport large enough for military aircraft was now asking questions too.  And many of the smaller airports were as well.  But even if they could make it in, ground transportation was another problem.  There were only two usable roads, each on either side of the mountain, both long and treacherous.  Tiago Otero and his army would be coming up the south side, leaving the only road available as the one that ended in Guyana’s capital city of Georgetown.  It was the same road the Chinese had carved into the mountain to get their treasure out, and it was already populated with local agencies investigating exactly what had happened at Acarai.

The chances of Caesare’s team getting to the top undetected were growing slimmer by the hour.

The partial 3D map in front of them displayed the area in impressive detail, including the multitude of surrounding peaks and elevations, displayed with tiny white numbers hovering over each peak.

“We’d still need two vehicles,” Corso said in a deep voice.  “And extra fuel to make it up.”

He was right.  That much uphill driving would require extra fuel.  They could ditch the cans once they reached the top, but it still meant less space for gear.  They’d need a second vehicle, which would provide some redundancy in case they ran into mechanical problems, but it also increased their chances of being spotted.

Standing to Caesare’s right, Tiewater shook his head.  “It’s not gonna work.  Even if we got transportation, there’s no way we’d make it to the top without being stopped.”

Caesare straightened and folded his arms.  He was right.  They wouldn’t have much problem disappearing once at the top, but it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t make it up first.

“Maybe we need a diversion.”

“Better be a damn good one,” Corso shrugged.  “If they’re stopping flights in and out, it means they’re already suspicious.”

Caesare frowned.  “And if they have any brains at all, they know a lot of people are already looking for other ways in.”

Anderson, the youngest of the four, was still staring at the map.  “Christ, we haven’t even left yet and this thing’s already FUBAR.”

Caesare’s phone rang in his pocket.  He pulled it out and raised an eyebrow at the number.  “Caesare here.”

After a moment, he glanced up at the other men.  “Well, hi there.”  He paused, listening.  “That’s good news…how soon?”  He checked his watch.  “Great.  We’ll be there.”

He hung up and turned his attention back to the men around the table.  “It looks like they’re in.”

“Draper and the monkey?”

“Gorilla,” Caesare corrected.  “And Juan Diaz, one of their tech guys.”

“Sounds like we got ourselves a full house.”

Caesare nodded pensively, his eyes back on the digital map.  “Yes, it does.” 

They weren’t expecting Diaz, but it made sense.  However, given their difficulty finding a way into the jungle undetected, an extra person was going to make it that much harder.

The only option he could see was trying to get into the jungle from the West.  It was a significantly longer distance though, which meant it was a long shot.  Yet even if they managed to make it in, it immediately presented a much bigger problem.  Getting back out.

The option was feeling like a scenario in definition only.  Because he was pretty damn sure that both DeeAnn
and
Juan were going to hate the only insertion possibility he had so far.

21

At that same moment, Steve Caesare’s bigger problem was sitting comfortably in a leather chair, peering out a double-paned window at the scene unfolding below him.  From the air-conditioned third floor, Otero watched as over a hundred Brazilian soldiers assembled on the vast expanse of concrete outside.

So much for subtly.

Several covered trucks, all painted in the dark green colors of the Exército Brasileiro, also known as the land arm of the Brazilian Armed Forces, remained motionless nearby.  Already parked beside the row of transport trucks were two medium-sized fuel trucks, with more on their way.  The logistical challenges weren’t so much the men, it was the supplies.  Transporting food, water, fuel, and even ammunition, was a herculean task, especially over a narrow road hundreds of kilometers long.

Even Otero knew that an army’s supply chain was the most critical, and most vulnerable, component of any mission.  But he also knew things didn’t have to take so damn long.

He had managed to obtain an entire
company
, which involved pulling out all of Otero’s political stops.  But now, his goal of keeping things quiet was hopelessly lost, leaving Otero shaking his head in frustration.  Miraculously, most people believed that a government’s “bloat” somehow failed to transfer through to its military forces.  How wrong they were.  All bloat ran downhill, no matter what the nation.  And it was something Otero was painfully witnessing firsthand.

If the Brazilian government ever tried to run itself like a business, they would find themselves bankrupt.  Otero promptly caught himself, almost laughing at his own thought.  The Brazilian government was
already
bankrupt.

Russo, Otero’s head of security, approached from behind.  “Salazar is here.”

The older man continued peering forward as if not hearing but eventually turned his head.  “Wonderful.”

A grin spread across Russo’s face, and he moved next to the large window.  He watched the soldiers outside with a sense of nostalgia.  Something Otero didn’t share. 

Unlike his boss, Russo had himself started in the army.  At that very base.  It was in Belem that he had completed his training to become an infantry officer and subsequently led his first platoon during the last year of the Araguaia Guerrilla War.

But Otero had no such fondness for the base or its soldiers.  He had never been in the military.  To Russo, he was little more than a rich politician.  Or perhaps a businessman with extremely deep pockets.  Pockets, of course, that also paid Russo’s rather generous salary, especially given Brazil’s current economic climate.

“This is not what I wanted,” Otero murmured from the chair.

Russo nodded.  “It’s going to make things messy.”

“Messy is an understatement.”

Both men heard the click of the door opening behind them, followed moments later by a louder clunk when it was closed.

Wearing his perfectly pressed uniform, a stout and balding Captain Salazar continued into the expansive meeting room, rounding the arm of a chair with a wry grin.

“Mr. Otero.  So good to see you,” he said in a sullen voice.  He reached out and offered his hand.

Otero shook it from his position but remained seated.  It was a clear gesture to the Army Captain.

The truth was that neither man liked the other.  Not a surprise given both their roles within a deeply corrupted government.  Just as it was in neighboring countries, the military complex was quickly eroding into an “every man for himself” mentality, and Salazar was the very personification of it.  Thankfully some government structure still remained, but given Otero’s urgency, Salazar and his company were the only available option.

“When will we be ready?”

“About four hours,” Salazar answered, between tight lips.  “But it will take at least two days to arrive.  Hundreds of kilometers on that road will not be fast.  And once we’re past Sipaliwini, we don’t know the full condition of the road.”

Otero nodded but said nothing.  He wondered if he’d made a mistake not taking Alves’ approach and flying up in a helicopter.  It would have cut the trip down to a few hours, but it also would have meant taking only a very small group of men.  Most likely not enough to find what they were looking for.  No, Alves had held a huge advantage, which was having the monkey in his possession already.  Now, finding the thing in the wild was going to require every man he could get.

Otero turned back and continued watching the soldiers loading their trucks in the sweltering heat.  He had no choice but to make do.  If they could leave today, they might still arrive before anyone else knew what they were up to.  Then secure the area to keep everyone else out.

And if things got messy, he had a plan to clean it all up once he had what he was after.  A plan that would also make this the last mission for Salazar and most of his men.

Putting his distaste for the man aside, Salazar and his men were little more than resources to Otero now.  Resources that would help him seize the ultimate prize.  And one which, thanks to a dead Alves and Blanco, no one else appeared to know about.

Otero took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the chair’s headrest.

Standing at the glass, Salazar continued watching his men in silence with his hands clasped behind his back.  It was imperative to maintain a relaxed appearance in front of Otero.  For what the billionaire didn’t know was that Salazar had a plan of his own: direct orders on what to do when he had Otero alone on the mountain. The old man was about to find out that his money and influence only went so far.