Tenderloin (Abby Kane FBI Thriller) (10 page)

“Abby.”

I opened my eyes fully and saw Cabrera looking back at me. The look on his face told me he had obviously backtracked to my location.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m enjoying the jungle.”

“Well, look, I can’t have you falling behind. As pretty as it is, it’s also very dangerous.”

Right then, something flew directly over our heads, close enough to cause both of us to duck. A few feet away from us, clinging to a tree trunk, was a curious little fellow about the size of a cat.

“A monkey,” I whispered. “He’s so cute.”

His head jerked from left to right as he moved up and down the tree trunk, surveying. He was as curious about us as we were about him. I retrieved my phone from my pocket, hoping to catch a photo of him to send to Lucy. I was eager to show her the cool zoo Mommy visited. I had been snapping pictures of pretty flowers, tall trees, and a few insects and butterflies, but this was the first primate I had encountered.

I held up my phone, zoomed and clicked. It was perfect. I had caught the inquisitive little guy looking at me dead on. His eyes were dark, and he had a red beard. White hair covered the majority of his face except for the top; it was a grayish-brown. He looked elderly, but his jerky movements suggested otherwise.

“If I’m not mistaken, that’s a titi monkey,” Cabrera whispered. “They’re pretty territorial, but since I don’t hear or see any others, this guy must have gone off exploring on his own and saw us.”

“They travel in packs?”

“Yeah, and can get pretty noisy if you end up walking through their resting area.”

“I’m collecting pictures for Lucy. I’ll try not to stray too far behind.”

The jungle was beautiful, and it smelled amazing. I wished Lucy and Ryan could have been there to experience it.

From there on, I resigned myself to sweating and swatting buzzing things out of my face as I kept in step with the group. Rapau led the way with a machete, which he used to slash through hanging vines, brush, and the occasional large leaf. He kept reminding us to stick exactly to the trail he was creating. Snakes were our biggest enemy and were very hard to spot. Rapau had already killed a tree boa.

“They like to hang from limbs and attack passing prey,” he said. “It’s not good to walk into one.” While we were too big of a target, he said it was better not to take the chance.

Rapau also warned that we would kill any venomous snakes we encountered, like the bushmaster. “It is the duty of jungle people. That snake has the most lethal bite of all vipers and is a threat to all tribes.”

“Why do they attack humans?” I asked.

“They don’t, really. Most attacks are accidental because they like to roam the jungle floor to hunt.”

“Roam the jungle floor? So I could accidentally step on one?”

“Yes. That’s why I said to follow my steps.”

“Well, what if one of those things crosses the path before I get there?”

He didn’t answer me. That’s all the encouragement I needed to keep close behind them.

I powered down my phone. All my picture snapping had already drained half of my battery, and I had a sneaking suspicion the village didn’t have any electrical outlets. My guilty pleasure—solitaire before bed—would have to wait.

<><><>

It took us an extra forty minutes to reach the village due to my wandering. By then, my feet were killing me, and I had to pee like crazy. I had held it for the last hour, not wanting to squat in the thick of the jungle and have a snake target my nether regions.

Rapau stopped us well before we set foot on the cleared land of the village, but he told us the locals had already spotted us and were watching. From where I stood, it looked like what I imagined: a bunch of huts made out of leaves and mud with semi-naked people walking around.

“You two wait here while I go speak to the tribe elders.”

Oh, God. I hope this doesn’t take long
.

“What’s the matter?” I heard Cabrera say.

I looked up at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re squirming. Do you have to go to the bathroom?”

He sounds like me talking to Lucy before we get in the car.
“Ppfftt.” I brushed him off with my hand. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Come to think of it, I can’t remember you taking a bathroom break on the hike out.”

Well, yeah. That’s because I don’t have a convenient flesh tube I can whip out. While I was fairly confident in my ability to pee while squatting and not have a yellow trail snap to my inner thigh, I chose to wait.

I ignored Cabrera and the pain in my abdomen and watched Rapau disappear into the village. A few minutes later I heard running water. Actually, it was more like water being poured into a cup—a long, lingering pour. I turned around to find Cabrera holding his canteen high above his head, while slowly pouring water into a plastic cup.
Do you see what I’m dealing with here? And he wonders why I keep ignoring his advances.

I folded my arms. “I know what you’re doing.”

He shook his head, and the wrinkles on his forehead deepened. “What are you talking about? I’m pouring myself a drink of water.”

“Only an idiot needs two minutes to fill up an eight-ounce cup.”

Cabrera smacked his lips after taking a sip. “Thirsty?” he asked, while offering me the cup.

Before I knew it, I slapped his stupid little cup out of his hand and sent it disappearing on the other side of a large leafy plant.

“Hey! That was my only cup and the last of my water,” he whined.

“Sucks to be you,” I said before taking large gulps from my canteen. I smacked my lips back at him.

Before Cabrera could restart the whine machine, we both heard Rapau making his way back toward us. His lips were pressed tightly together where normally there should have been a smile.
Now what?

“Everything okay?” I asked.

He shook his head but waited until he stood right next to us before speaking. “The elders have refused us.”

Chapter 21

The door to the Mitú compound flew open, and in walked a man with a wide stance. He took large, forceful steps and crossed the width of the building more quickly than most would, stopping when he reached the hidden door in the coffee crate. After climbing down the stairs and entering the lab facilities, he spotted the Ortega brothers right away.

“Tell me, what good news have you to share?” he boomed across the room.

Julio looked up from his paperwork and adjusted his glasses. His boss, Faro Zapata, had entered the facility.

As a one-time military commander fighting for the resistance known as FARC, Zapata had spent a good part of his youth perfecting his violent ways with the movement, joining when he was only fifteen. He quickly rose in the ranks due to his fearless attitude and his ability to outthink and outmaneuver his enemies in battle. His success made him a high-ranking officer at age twenty. For the next ten years, he had led a large group of soldiers until someone more powerful than him, and much more feared, had talked him into retiring. That man was El Monstruo.

Like many others, Zapata had heard of him and thought he was nothing more than a story used to scare people. That was until a bag containing five million dollars had shown up at Zapata’s door. El Monstruo had delivered.

Zapata was promised more money and more power than he ever could obtain with FARC. The deciding factor was being able to leave the jungle and live amongst the people, to enjoy his wealth like many of the drug lords he saw. So he said yes to the man on the phone. He would come and work for him. He would run the town of Mitú and parts of the southern region of Colombia. And, most importantly, he would oversee the development of a new drug.

“We’ve made progress,” Julio responded.

They immediately noticed the uptick in Zapata’s mood. They weren’t used to his jovial side. Their meetings were usually terse, with lots of yelling and fists slamming down on tables.

Elan joined his brother. “Why the smiles, Señor Zapata? I’ve only known you to be a serious man.”

“It’s been a good day. Now tell me about this progress.”

Having just received word about the Peña family being slaughtered, Zapata was downright jolly—a rare sight indeed. He hated Javier, the man in charge of running operations in Bogotá. He had always thought he could do a better job and wanted more control than the town of Mitú. With Javier out of the way, Zapata had a chance to prove himself worthy of the responsibility. Success with the drug would be key.

“Well…” Elan raised a hand. “It’s not exactly what you think.”

Zapata’s smile diminished a bit. “Well then, explain to me what it is I should think.”

“We have successfully replicated the ingredients for the original formula and have started to work on perfecting the balance.”

“That’s what you’re calling progress? If you two didn’t screw up, we would have been further along.” Zapata slammed his fist onto the lab table, rattling beakers and scaring a few chimps in nearby cages.

The Ortegas stiffened. Zapata was an impatient man, and every day that they failed to deliver his drug, the more they tested what little patience he had.

Julio described the success they’d had with Malcolm #69 and the chimp’s exceptional strength and intelligence after they had injected him with the drug.

“When will we have a fully working specimen?” Zapata asked through a clenched jaw.

“We are close,” Julio answered. “Now that we have a working formula, it’s only a matter of time before we have a way to stabilize the drug’s effects.”

Zapata’s smile widened again as he calmed. He waved a finger at the brothers. “You speak with great confidence. Let’s hope it’s not in vain.”

With that said, Zapata turned on his heels and exited the lab.

The brothers were left looking at each other. Time did not favor their side.

Julio patted his brother on the back. “Come now. We can’t let what Faro said distract us. We know what we are doing. We can and will figure this out.” Julio started to walk away when Elan responded.

“Always the positive one, aren’t you?”

“We have no choice.”

The brothers walked through a series of corridors until they reached a newly built area of the lab, the deepest and most remote part. Only they were allowed in this area. An eye and fingerprint scan kept it that way. The Ortegas insisted.

The holding chambers were located beyond the secured metal doors. There were ten of them, each with its own reinforced observation window. All of the rooms were empty except two. The brothers stopped at the one that housed a single male chimp. He had his own tire swing, shallow pool of water, and sleeping area, but he sat quietly in the corner.

He had been this way the last few hours, rocking slowly, unaware of the visitors standing near the window and watching him. His eyes were cloudy, and pus gathered in the corners. He continually rubbed his hands together—the areas around his knuckles were raw.

“His breathing is labored,” Elan said. He turned on the microphone and spoke while signing.

“Malcolm, how are you feeling?”

The chimp turned his head and signed he was worried.

Elan reassured him.

“He’s weak but stable. That is good news,” Julio said. “Continued adjustments should get us where we need to be. Prepare Malcolm #70.”

“Are you sure we’re ready?” Elan asked.

“We have the formula. It’s time to press ahead and make real progress.”

Julio then turned to the chamber opposite them and peered inside. This one didn’t have a hanging tire but rather a desk and chair. In the corner, instead of a pool of water, was a bed and a shelf filled with books. Sitting on that bed was a man.

Julio flipped the red switch and leaned toward the microphone.

“Hello, Malcolm.”

Chapter 22

I waited with my breath on hold for Rapau to laugh out loud and say, “I got you.” But he did nothing except stand there with a blank look on his face. Slowly, my brain comprehended the situation and the realization that I had just hiked five hours through a thick jungle only to be told “Sorry, not this time.” To say I was disappointed would have been a huge understatement.

Rarely do words escape me, but my mouth had rigor mortis, and my brain had gone on hiatus. Rapau’s answer was the last thing I expected to hear. Even though his body language shouted that there was a problem, I had thought it would be something like “They want money” or “We have to wait a few hours.” But this?

I turned to Cabrera. The look hanging from his face told me he was as befuddled as I was.

“Can they
do
this? I mean… We came all the way
out
here. This is an
investigation
. I’m FBI,” I went on aimlessly, grabbing at anything that might save our little expedition.

“They can do whatever they want. We’re in the middle of a jungle,” Rapau said as he motioned all around us. “The law here is their law.”

I wasn’t about to give up so easily. “Rapau, is there anything we can do that will change their minds? Perhaps cash or supplies…”

Rapau looked at Cabrera, but I motioned for him to focus back on me. “I’m right here. Talk to me.”

The soft-spoken man swallowed and avoided looking me directly in my eyes. I sensed he was uneasy about the situation, which fed my other feelings that something wasn’t right. I asked Cabrera to give me a moment with Rapau. He let out a long breath to let me know what he thought but nodded and walked away.

“Talk to me, Rapau.” He looked over at Cabrera and, once again, I refocused his attention back on me. “Don’t worry about him. He is not in charge here. I am. You understand that?”

Rapau nodded his head and shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “There is something we can do.”

“What is it?” I straightened up, and so did my ears.
Houston, we have a breakthrough
. “Tell me.”

“You must be willing to participate.”

“Of course. I’ll do anything.”

“That’s good, because it will not work without you.”

I grabbed hold of Rapau’s arms and stared him down. “What do I need to do?”