The Portal (A Delphi Group Thriller Book 2) (37 page)

Zane cursed himself for not doing more to uncover the mole’s identity. He’d tried to justify his inaction by emphasizing the importance of carrying out the mission, but now it had placed the whole group in danger. He should have demanded to see everyone’s electronic devices or at least held things up until Brett could get the satellite phone working again. Now his only choice was to try to get everyone off the mountain as quickly as possible.

He looked down at the soldier again. He was wearing a black body suit. The outer material superficially resembled neoprene, and yet the texture seemed a bit different. Now curious, he unzipped the man’s suit, pulled one flap aside, and shone his flashlight on the lining. It looked like some sort of reflective foil.
Of course.
A suit made to camouflage body heat. The Americans had the same technology, although Zane had never used it himself.

Zane clenched his jaw. That explained why they could never see anyone trailing them, despite all the signs that it was happening.

Recognizing the need to move quickly, Zane removed the man’s boots and flung them out the window. He did the same with the rifle. He then removed one of the man’s socks and stuffed it into his mouth.

Satisfied that he was now completely disabled, Zane retrieved his radio and spoke in a whisper. “Bennett, do you read?”

A few seconds later, Bennett replied softly, “I’m here.”

Zane had previously asked the others to go radio silent while he investigated the noise. “The Chinese. They’re here.”

There was a long pause. “Copy that. How many?”

Zane crept over to the door and looked in the direction of the stairwell. “Don’t know. I just put one down but haven’t seen any others.”

“Copy that. What do you want us to do?”

Zane thought for a moment then asked, “Brett, are you there?”

Brett checked in, although his voice was still somewhat distorted.

“Let’s all meet at the place where we separated on the edge of town. Then we’ll go down to the clearing and try to establish contact with the others.”

“Roger that,” Bennett said.

“Artur and I can be there in fifteen minutes,” Brett said.

Zane lifted the radio to his mouth. “My guess is that the village is now crawling with Chinese. Make sure you stick to the shadows and watch your back. See you in fifteen.”

Zane turned off the radio without waiting for an answer. After retrieving his pack and rifle, he moved cautiously down the stairwell. Despite being concerned about a possible ambush, he found no one waiting on the first floor. The attacker had obviously been operating alone.

He paused at the exit. Everything seemed clear, so he sprinted across the street. Once on the other side, he crab walked down to a crumbled wall and squatted in its shadow.

As he waited, he thought he heard shuffling a block or two away. He thought of turning around and trying to find another way down to the main street but then realized that would take too long. He needed to take the shortest route possible, even if it meant putting himself in further danger. Besides, the Chinese had likely fanned out, meaning it might be impossible to find a safe route.

While he continued to listen, Zane slung his rifle over his shoulder and pulled out his Glock. He preferred a pistol in close quarters, particularly with the fog limiting visibility.

Hearing nothing, Zane stood and walked carefully down the side of the street. Soon a low-lying wall appeared on his right. He didn’t remember seeing it on the way in.
I wonder if that’s where the noise came from.
He peered over the top. It looked like some sort of ancient walled garden or park that was now being retaken by the jungle.

His senses on high alert, Zane continued down the wall and entered an area darkened by overhanging limbs. He paused, scanning the heavy fog for any signs of movement. As far as he could see, the street was empty. Whoever had made the noise must be gone now.

As he stood, he heard something directly overhead. Someone was on top of the wall.

He turned just in time to see a shadow coming toward him. He was hit with a force so strong that it knocked him out into the street. As he tumbled, the Glock flew out of his hand and clattered across the ground.

As Zane rose to his knees, he saw a shadow moving toward him. He turned his head slightly then froze. The silhouette of a massive man towered overhead. He had to be well over seven feet, with the girth of a body builder. It might have been the largest man Zane had ever seen.

Before he could react, the giant grabbed his hair and lifted him into the air. The man then used his other hand to punch Zane in the abdomen, knocking him back on the ground. Zane rolled into the fetal position, groaning in pain from the powerful blow.

The man picked him up again, this time grabbing his neck with a meaty paw. Zane was close enough to see the attacker now. He had Asian features, and his squarish face was the size of a cinder block. In fact, it was so wide that it pulled his features apart, giving him a frightening appearance. He looked more cyborg than human.

The man gave Zane a cunning smile then slung him violently back toward the side of the street. Zane flew through an opening in the wall, tumbling across a tangle of tree limbs and vines in the old garden beyond. He rolled to a stop then slowly rose to one knee. Despite the pain, he realized this might be the opportunity he’d been looking for. If the giant had continued to pummel him in the street, it might already be over. The toss had knocked the wind out of him, but it also gave him the chance to regroup.

Heavy footsteps approached through the gap in the wall. As Zane waited for the man to arrive, he thought of how he might turn the tables.

Think, Zane. Think.

The giant’s shadow appeared, coming toward him through the fog.

Suddenly he remembered something the Oracle had told him years ago.
Some fights require unconventional weapons. When your life is in danger, you win using whatever means necessary.

Zane extended his right hand and patted around in the dark. It soon brushed over a rock. He closed his fingers around it. It was time for Goliath to go down. As the giant neared, Zane launched the rock at his head then bull-rushed him. The projectile glanced off the giant’s skull with a sickening thud, causing him to reach up reflexively. That exposed his midriff, which bore the full brunt of Zane’s charge.

The two went to the ground with Zane on top. He pulled back and began punching the man’s midsection as hard as he could. It didn’t take long for him to realize the futility of hitting the equivalent of a cement block.

Ignoring the punches, the giant reached up and grabbed Zane’s neck. His grip was like that of a hydraulic vice, and Zane coughed as his breath was pinched off. He tried to pry the man’s hands free, to no avail.

Zane’s vision began to swim. If he didn’t get out of the man’s grip, he would pass out soon. He probably had less than a minute. And if that happened, he was as good as dead.

As Zane turned to look for something to use as a weapon, he noticed a dark-red spot at the upper edge of the man’s massive forehead, where the rock had made impact. Zane knew what he needed to do. With only a few more seconds of consciousness, he pulled his head back, using his strong neck muscles to draw the man’s hands and arms outward. When he reached the point where he could pull no more, Zane whipped his head forward, surprising his opponent.

Zane’s head made direct contact on the wound. Screaming in pain, the giant reached for his head, giving Zane the opportunity to roll away.

He searched around until he found another rock. It was small, but it would have to do. He lifted it in the air then brought it down toward the man’s head. This time the giant got an arm up, causing the rock to strike a glancing blow on his jaw.

The monster of a man growled and rose to his feet, much more quickly than a man his size should be able to. As he stood, Zane could see that he was frothing at the mouth. There would be no more playing around. Now there was murder in his eyes.

As the giant lunged toward him, Zane stepped to the side and launched a right uppercut at the wounded jaw. The man seemed to expect the move, reaching out quickly and grabbing Zane’s arm. His speed was shocking. With a grunt of anger, the man flung Zane against a nearby tree. His head struck the trunk cleanly, nearly knocking him out. Sparks splashed across his retina as he tried to maintain consciousness.

The giant appeared a few seconds later, looming above him. Despite the swirling fog, Zane could see that he was now clutching a large stone about the size of a basketball, but he was handling it as though it were a piece of Styrofoam.

“Now you die,” the giant said.

Zane knew it would be senseless to put up an arm. A rock that size would pulverize any body part that got in its way. At this point, his only hope was to try to move at the last minute.

With a sneer, the giant lifted the rock into the air. As Zane watched, he noticed movement in the foliage past the man’s head. Something, perhaps an animal, was moving around on one of the limbs.

The giant growled and started his arm forward. As he did, the figure leaped out of the tree, landing on the man’s shoulders. The giant teetered, a look of confusion spreading over his face. Suddenly an arm wrapped around the giant’s head, pulling it back and exposing his neck. A knife flashed in the darkness, and there was a loud grunt as the giant swayed slightly then fell to the ground.

The man with the knife moved toward Zane, the blade flashing at his side.

Zane waited. If this one was also an enemy, then he was likely going to die.

Soon a face appeared out of the darkness, and it was one that Zane knew well.

ROD BENNETT SCANNED the area from his perch high in the tree. Other than a few rats scurrying amongst the stones, his thermal imaging visor showed no signs of life. The Chinese might be somewhere in the village, but they weren’t here.

Grabbing the limb he was sitting on, he dropped to the next one below. After gaining his balance, he looked around one last time. From here on down, he’d no longer be protected by the tree’s dense foliage. Look twice, move once.

As his eyes panned the slope above, he caught a brief flash of orange about fifty yards away. He moved his eyes back quickly, but it had already disappeared. The heat signature had been a mere sliver, which confused him.

Careful to maintain his balance, he brought the binoculars up once again, training them on the area of the flash. He turned the focus wheel slowly then stopped. A man was crouching there, hiding behind a pile of rocks. He rotated left and saw another man crouched a few feet away.

He frowned and lowered the binoculars. Why didn’t they show up on thermal imaging? The only thing he could figure was that they were wearing some sort of protective outerwear.

But could they see him? Since they were facing in his direction, he assumed the answer was “yes.”

His heart racing, Bennett looked down. Unfortunately, his rifle was leaning against the crumbling wall near the base of the tree. He had a pistol, but that wasn’t going to help with long- range targets.

As he weighed his options, Bennett heard soft footfalls on his left. Another attacker was moving toward him.

The soldier grunted in frustration. He’d stayed in the tree too long. If he’d left immediately after getting orders from Zane, he’d be back at the rendezvous point by now. Instead he’d taken a couple of minutes to look for the craft, time enough for the Chinese to lock in on him.

So what now? There was really only one option. He needed to get down to his rifle as quickly as possible. After taking a deep breath, he grabbed the limb under his feet and swung down to the next limb below. He heard the spit of two rounds coming from the left. One round ripped through the limb he’d just been standing on, while the other sizzled past his ear.

Bennett jumped. The drop was longer than he’d remembered. When he hit the ground, he tumbled backwards before rolling into a crouch. As more shots were fired, the Green Beret retrieved his rifle and placed it on top of the wall.

A shadow moved in the distance, dropping behind a cluster of plants. Bennett took aim and fired. The bushes shook, and there was a faint cry of pain. Bennett squeezed off two more shots, silencing the attacker permanently.

There was more movement along a line of small trees to his left. Seconds later, an attacker broke free, rushing toward him. In one smooth motion, Bennett brought his rifle around and fired two shots. The man spun, his gun misfiring into the air as he crumpled to the ground.

Two down. If his count was right, that meant there were only two left. Assuming no more had arrived.

Suddenly the sound of footsteps reached his ears. They seemed only a few feet away.

A voice spoke in heavily accented English. “Drop gun.”

Bennett thought of turning and firing, but now he could hear others approaching as well. He’d been trapped. He’d been so focused on the slope above him that he hadn’t paid attention to who might be approaching from behind.

“Drop gun!” the man shouted.

Bennett tossed his rifle to the ground and lifted his hands.

“Now turn… slow!”

Bennett stood then turned and faced his captors. One of them clicked on a flashlight and directed the beam into his eyes. Despite the glare, Bennett was able to count three men standing in front of him.

Two of the soldiers stepped forward. One stopped a few feet away and raised his weapon. The other kicked Bennett’s rifle away then approached and removed the pistol from his belt. Bennett could see that this one was older, probably the commanding officer.

“Where the other ones?” the old man asked, tossing the pistol out into the darkness.

Bennett gave him a confused look. “What other ones?”

The old man kicked Bennett’s knee from the side. Bennett cried out in pain as he tumbled to the ground. He knew immediately a ligament had been torn, effectively crippling him.

“You lie.”

Bennett rose up slightly, pain still searing up his leg. He debated whether to answer truthfully. But it would be silly to try to convince them that he was acting alone.