Choke Point (31 page)

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Authors: Jay MacLarty

BOOK: Choke Point
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“Cozy.”

He closed his eyes, determined to overcome his phobia, when he felt the cargo bag shift against his leg. “Uh…Rynerson?”

“Yes.”

“Did you just move the bag?”

“No.”

“Well, unless those mushrooms are still growing…growing really fast…there’s something alive in that bag.”

“Is there?”

“Rynerson…!”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

Great,
that’s just what he wanted to hear. “Is that what I think it is?”

“You don’t bother it, it won’t bother you.”

“A snake, right?”

“A beaked sea snake, to be exact. Just a baby.”

“Define baby.”

“Less than eighteen inches.”

Right,
eighteen inches and a baby. He didn’t want to think about mom and dad. “And poisonous, I suppose?”

“Very.”

“Why in the world would you—”

“It’s my secret weapon,” she cut in. “If I get a chance, I’m gonna slip this little guy into Atherton’s tent.”

“A charming thought, but he’s damn near in my lap!”

“Relax, I’ve got him in that nylon accessory bag. He can’t get out.”

“You know I don’t like snakes.”

“Snakes are cool. You just don’t understand them.”

“What’s to understand? They’re cold-blooded and they bite. That’s enough for me.”

“Don’t be a wuss, Leonidovich, snakes are fascinating creatures. This species especially.”

“Uh-oh, I feel a lecture coming on.”

“I’m serious, snakes are the most recently evolved of all reptiles. They descended from mosasaurs, marine predators that disappeared about the same time as the dinosaurs. This species actually evolved from terrestrial snakes, so they only recently returned to the watery realm of their ancestors.”

“Really.” Normally, he would have said something sarcastic, but the sound of her voice kept his mind off the fact that they were about to be sealed in a watery, dark room with a sea snake. “That is interesting.”

“Sea snakes are air breathers, but they have an extra lung that leads directly into their true lung, which in turn connects to an elongated air sac used for oxygen storage. Much like a diver’s aqualung. Are you going to tell me that isn’t interesting?”

“Absolutely not.”

“They can even absorb oxygen through their skin,” she continued, her voice rising with enthusiasm. “Directly from the water.”

“Fascinating.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Leonidovich.”

“No, really, I’m serious. It’s all very interesting, but that doesn’t mean I want one for a pet.”

“You’d be surprised.”

He knew better. “You know the problem with reptiles?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

“They have no expression. You don’t know if they’re looking at you as their next meal, or as a friendly provider. I like my pets furry and cuddly.”

“I thought that was your choice in women.”

“Absolutely not. I like women
smooooooth
and cuddly.”

“See, you like smooth skin. If you would—”

“What…?”


Shhhhh.
You hear that?”

For a moment, he heard nothing but the soft lap of waves, and then the low and unmistakable hum of a small outboard. He looked down, staring at the shadowy light, trying to measure the gap between the water and the overhang: two feet, maybe three.
Not good.

Kyra leaned across the cargo bag, her voice low and tight. “They’re slowing down.”

“They won’t see the opening,” he whispered back, trying to sound confident, though his heart had already kicked into overdrive.

She reached out, found his hand, and squeezed. “We’ll be okay.” Her words sounded hollow and full of wishful thinking.

“Of course we will.” He cocked his head to the side, straining to hear, to calculate the distance. Twenty, maybe thirty yards, but with the wave action it was difficult to judge.

The engine suddenly went silent, the hush so quick and unexpected Simon found it difficult to breathe. The seconds ticked slowly by, the silence intense and electric, then the scrape of rubber against rock, followed by the double splash of two men stepping into the water, the sound shockingly clear.

“There’s nothing back in there, Big. Let’s move on.”

“You stay with the boat,” the other man answered, his voice a raspy growl. “I’ll check it out.”

“That’s the one they call Big Paddy,” Kyra whispered.

Simon leaned close, until his lips touched her ear. “To hell with Atherton. If you can handle that snake in this light…”

She nodded and placed a finger to her lips, as the sounds of a man sloshing through the water drew closer. He seemed to move past the opening, then stopped and came back.

“Hey, Chrich, come here!” The man’s deep voice echoed through the chamber as a beam of light skipped off the water beneath Simon’s feet.

As the second man splashed toward them, Kyra slowly unzipped the cargo bag, the metallic
click-click-click-click
loud as a rivet gun in Simon’s ear. He leaned back against the stone wall, forcing himself to breathe, to gain control of his heart, which felt like it was about to explode.

The light flashed again, bouncing off the back wall. “Take a look.”

Holding the snake just behind its head, Kyra pulled the angry reptile free of its enclosure. Despite the woman’s penchant for risk, she looked almost catatonic with fear, her hand shaking nearly as hard as the wiggling monster she was trying to control.

Another flash of light. “I think you better check it out.”

“Me! Why me?”

“Because you’re smaller’n me, asshole.”

“Bloody hell. I’m not going in there.”

“Brick said to check everything.”

“So you do it,” the other man snapped. “You’re the one’s always actin’ like a badass.”

Big Paddy answered with a scornful grunt. “And you’re nothin’ but a chicken-ass flyboy. Gimme that Uzi.”

“That’s Brick’s gun. You get it wet, you clean it.”

Another grunt, another flash of light, and then Big Paddy was in the chamber, standing directly below Kyra. He swept the flashlight from side to side, then up and down the walls, past the tree…then back…the light hovering over their makeshift ladder. Simon could almost see the gray matter bubbling in the big man’s head, and realized it would take him only a second or two to put it all together.
Do it now! Do it now!
Then he realized she couldn’t, her entire body rigid with fear. The snake looked equally incapacitated—either oxygen-starved from Kyra’s death grip, or simply waiting for its opportunity to strike—its long body hanging limpid and straight.
Ohhhhh, shit!
He reached out, grabbed the beast from her hand, leaned forward, quickly adjusted his aim, and let it go. It seemed to hover for a moment, its body twisting frantically, searching for solid ground, then dropped straight down, landing across the man’s shoulder.

Big Paddy let out a yelp and the snake reacted, striking the big man’s neck before he could grab it and fling it against the far wall. He stumbled back, blindly firing the Uzi—briefly turning the chamber into a storm of flashing thunderbolts—before disappearing beneath the overhang.

Deafened by the jarring reverberations, it took a few moments before Simon could hear anything, and then inexplicably, it was the sound of receding laughter.

“It ain’t funny, Chrich! The damn thing bit me.”

“Don’t go all barmy. I’m sure it was harmless. You just scared the little thing.”

“It wasn’t so fuckin’ little, asshole!”

Simon reached out, found Kyra’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back, holding on until the sound of the Zodiac faded, then she laughed, a great relieved chuckle. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. That man…the thought of being trapped…”

But Simon knew exactly what happened—a flashback to El Pato prison—a memory that would make anyone freeze up. “Happens to everyone.”

“Not you.”

“Trust me, Rynerson, I reacted out of fear, not courage.”

She chuckled again. “Told you snakes were cool.”

“You think it’s still alive?”

“Probably.”

“And more than a little pissed off, wouldn’t you say?”

“Royally.”

He glanced down at the narrow band of light still visible beneath his feet. “Wonderful.” He didn’t try to hide the sarcasm.

“What’s the problem?”

“Another couple of minutes and we’re going to be trapped in here for the next nine hours with a pissedoff snake.
That’s
the problem.”

“They’re really quite shy.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Nothing to worry about.”

Right,
except that wasn’t the only snake he was worried about.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-EIGHT

 

An Island in the South China Sea

 

Saturday, 14 July 20:01:14 GMT +0800

 

Absorbed in thought, Mawl didn’t notice Atherton had gotten up from the table until he spoke. “What the hell is that?” It was obvious from his tone that whatever it was, it wasn’t good enough for him.

Mawl let it go—for the moment, the man remained the client—but that would change soon enough. “Irish stew. As close as I make it with all this canned shit. I thought the boys might appreciate a decent meal.”

Atherton glanced toward the three men huddled in the trees. “I don’t think it’s food they’re talking about.”

Mawl nodded, it was true, they were doing more talking than digging. “They just need some time.”

“Time,” Atherton repeated, his tone mocking. “We’re out of time.” He cocked his head toward the west and the hazy yellow globe that hung above the horizon. “That’s the first time we’ve seen the sun in four days. This storm is over. By midday tomorrow, there’s going to be search planes all over this area.”

Mawl nodded, as if he needed that fact shoved in his face. “And I intend to have all four boats sitting off that end of the island by daybreak. If they show their heads, we’ll see them first. We’ll get them.”

“So you say.”

Mawl ignored the sarcasm. “The accident set us back.” A weak excuse, he realized, but it had, in fact, cost them half a day. Big Paddy had not gone easily—putting up an agonizing and ugly fight that lasted six hours—and that left the men somewhat reluctant to go sticking their heads into dark spots. “They’ll be ready to go by morning.”

“I’m sure,” Atherton said, tilting his head back in that superior way he had of speaking while looking down his nose. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not so sure it was an accident.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Snakes don’t jump on people.”

“It’s not common,” Mawl agreed cautiously, not sure where Atherton was heading. “But it happens.”

“Out of trees, maybe. Not out of the water. Are you telling me a snake jumped out of the water and bit your big guy on the neck?”

The way he said it, in that patronizing tone, it did sound a bit implausible. “What are you saying?”

“Don’t you know what Kyra Rynerson does for a living?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “She’s a zoologist. Think about it.”

That’s exactly what Mawl was doing, and he couldn’t decide which sounded more implausible, that a poisonous water snake had somehow bitten Paddy on the neck, or Kyra Rynerson had somehow used the snake as a weapon. He reached over and snatched his two-way off the table. “Chrich—” As if connected to the same electronic string, the heads of all four men turned toward the enclosure. “—come over here.” Mawl turned back to Atherton. “You better let me do the talking. The men don’t exactly trust you.”

Atherton smiled, a smug upturn along one side of his mouth. “It’s mutual.”

Chricher, who apparently thought he knew why he was being summoned, began talking even before he stepped beneath the canopy. “It’s not my fault, Brick. We got ourselves a problem.”

Great,
as if he didn’t have enough. “What kind of problem?”

“The guys are pretty upset. They don’t think we should be leaving Big out here on this godforsaken island.”

Mawl nodded to himself. He wasn’t that surprised, it was part of their training—the old warrior’s code—to take their fallen with them. “And what is it they think we should do with him?”

“It’s pretty much a majority,” Chricher answered, clearly wanting it understood that he wasn’t alone in this opinion. “They all think we should be shipping him home.”

Bloody hell,
that’s all he needed—a fucking mutiny. “And just how are we supposed to do that, Chrich? If we try to ship his body there’s gonna to be a thousand bloody questions.”

“I understand that, but—”

Mawl cut him off, not about to let the idea gain momentum. “Paddy hasn’t been back to Ireland in fourteen years. He doesn’t have a family. There is no
home.
Just where in the bloody hell are we supposed to ship his body?”

“I’m not disagreein’, Brick.” Suddenly he didn’t seem so concerned about the majority opinion. “I’m just the messenger.”

“And you’re second in command now.” Of course there had never been a second to his command, but it sounded nice, and seemed like a good way to gain support for his decision. “Just get it done. They’ll listen to you.”

Chricher hesitated, noticeably surprised at his sudden promotion. “Uh…sure, Brick. I’ll handle it.” He started to turn away.

“Just a minute, Chrich. Let me ask you something. What exactly was that cave like?”

Chricher shrugged evasively. “Can’t really say. Dark as the inside of a whore’s box, I can tell you that.”

“Did you go in?”

“Well, not all the way,” Chricher admitted. “You know Big, he doesn’t…didn’t…he didn’t like to sit anything out.”

“So what
did
you see?”

“There really wasn’t much of an opening between the water and the rocks, but you could see the back wall…no more than four or five meters, I’d say.”

“Uh-huh. And how deep was the water?”

Chricher shrugged again, his eyes a combination of curious and cautious. “‘bout to my ass, I guess. Why?”

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