This day really couldn't get much better. Rebecca could only hope the men were faring better than she.
"We're so screwed," Lopez whispered.
Davidson couldn't argue. Not as he watched through his sniper scope the trail of men tracking through the jungle. This was not how this was supposed to go down. The Disciples were supposed to be in open-air vehicles. They were supposed to pull up, en masse, to the center of the village. The kill zone that Davidson and Talli had set up. Then on Lopez's order, the shooting was supposed to begin.
Under the cover of that fire, Lopez was going to speed in with the beat-up Pajeros he'd "borrowed" and whisk Brandt out of there. They would then all meet at the rally point five clicks north.
That plan clearly had to be scraped. Unfortunately, there wasn't any easy alternative. The Disciples' mercenaries were spread out far and wide, many hidden deep within the thick foliage. Davidson had counted eight already, and who knew how many others were out there? He hadn't even spotted Brandt yet.
And traveling on foot, the enemy was going to be far more vigilant than they would have been in a vehicle. Tracking through the jungle, they had to be.
Water dripped from the ridge of Davidson's nose, onto his rifle, and down the long barrel. The cloud burst had been short but had dropped nearly half an inch of water. Puddles pocked the road through the village as mist clung to the mountainside. The Disciples must have lost their vehicle, then taken to the jungle to avoid the downpour.
Each event making their job of extracting Brandt all the harder.
A splash announced Talli's arrival. "What are we going to do?"
Davidson looked to Lopez. The corporal's lips turned down. Which was not their usual direction. As a matter of fact, it was weird to see Lopez with a frown on his face.
"We really need some thermal imaging," Talli stated, nodding to the forest where the only way you knew men were out there was by the sway of the branches.
Lopez snorted. "Yeah, let's call Command and say, 'Hey, I know we went AWOL and all, but what the heck, since we are in Africa, how about you give us some tactical support?'"
Talli looked down and away, but Davidson saw the edge of Lopez's lip turn upward.
"Why don't we?" Davidson suggested.
"What do you mean?" Talli asked Lopez, though, pulled his radio out of his pack. "He means we've gone AWOL. Why the hell don't we ask for tactical help? The worst they could do is say no."
"Or use the transcript against us at our court martial," Talli added.
"Or that," Lopez said as he shrugged, dialing the phone.
There was one thing that had bugged Bunny while reviewing the files. Two things, actually, but she had to find the first. Bunny couldn't articulate the vague sense of unease she felt. But now that they were trying to prove a negative, Bunny knew she'd found something. Finally, she found the page. It detailed Brandt's extraction from the Congo.
"Why didn't they hit their first extraction window?" Bunny asked. She had noticed that fact before but really hadn't cared about it. Why should she? Now, though? It was of paramount importance because the after-action report was completely silent about the cause.
Prenner shrugged as he searched through the files. "Looks like they just said they couldn't make the window and requested a secondary pickup."
"And nobody found that weird?" Bunny chuckled. "That delay cost them nearly thirty-six hours. Brandt missed his rehearsal dinner because of it."
She didn't even wait for Prenner's response. Instead, she dug through the report to find the third page. Another fact had nagged at her. Bunny found the paragraph.
"A girl, along with her caregiver, provided intel on the location of the rebellion's base." When Bunny looked up, Emily and Prenner both frowned. They didn't get it. At least not yet. She shuffled the pages until she came to the end of the report. "Fortunately, there was only one civilian death. Unfortunately, it was that of the girl's caregiver."
Again, the other two frowned. "You clearly do not know Brandt and Davidson."
"Apparently not," Prenner stated, although not with nearly the attitude he might have had a few hours ago.
"In that part of the world? What would happen to an orphaned girl?" Bunny asked, not expecting an answer. They all knew that human slavery, rape, and worse awaited an orphan in the jungle. "There is no way Brandt would have left that girl unprotected."
Prenner squinted, reading the report over again. "You are saying that he took that thirty-six hours and found the girl a safe home?"
"Yes," Bunny said, nodding vigorously. "I'm certain that is the aspect of the mission the Disciples are honing in on."
"Certain?" Emily said as her eyebrow rose. "Why?"
Bunny immediately regretted her choice of words. She was certain. Only, she couldn't tell them why she was certain. Another of those things that not only got left out of the after-action report, but hadn't even been reported to Brandt. Rebecca and she had kept the information to themselves.
The knowledge that the tablets of the Ten Commandments spoke of the daughter of God. Not son. Not child, but daughter of God prophesized to rise to be the Messiah.
And now suddenly the Disciples were taking such interest in a girl deep in the African jungle. There had to be a connection. Not that she could tell Emily that.
"You are just going to have to trust me," Bunny answered.
"My, my," Prenner commented, nodding toward Emily, "I guess someone else doesn't have the clearance they need."
Bunny felt bad for holding back on Emily, but this was more than a pinky promise she'd made with Rebecca. This was a sacred vow.
The secret of the female Messiah was safe with her.
Turning to Emily, Bunny tried to get them refocused. "Now all we have to do is figure out where Brandt took the girl."
"Oh, is that all?" Emily shot back.
Prenner's phone buzzed. He read the text aloud. "Contact made with Corporal Lopez. Eyes on Brandt approaching the village. Requesting thermal imaging of area."
Bunny caught herself on the edge of the table. Davidson was safe. They made it out of the crash and sounded like they were moments from rescuing him. They might really be able to pull it off.
However, even in the euphoria of the moment, Bunny still wondered, Where is the girl?
Rebecca squelched a scream as the python's coils tightened around her legs. Knees knocking together, she tried not to panic. However, she was finding it more and more difficult to keep perspective. Hanging upside down was certainly not helping.
Hooting and hollering, the chimps were throwing what she could only hope was mud at her as the snake made its slow, painful advance. Rebecca had tried to remain still, allowing the python to think her subdued. She didn't need those long fangs sunk into her. When the moment came to make her move, she needed to be able to...well, move.
She blocked out the chimps' war cries. In her right hand, she held the metal comb from her veil. The removal of which had been made at great cost to her scalp. Even now, she held a chunk of hair in her palm. Her only hope was to let the snake get close enough, then use the sharp comb as a weapon. Although, the closer the python got, the more her desperate plan seemed even more desperate and unrealistic.
What else did she have?
Just as she gripped the comb, readying the blow, a figure burst from the forest. Tall, lean, and shirtless, the older man's dark skin melted with the shadows. Then he opened his eyes. One obsidian black, the other a milky white. Waving a thick cane over his head, he yelled fiercely.
Rebecca wasn't sure if it even contained any words or if it was just a visceral utterance, but the chimps took note. Many fled, while others became even more agitated, jumping into the trees, rattling the branches.
Mr. Python stopped his slow descent, lifting his head, flickering his tongue at the newest arrival. Rebecca could feel the snake tense. Apparently, he did not want to share his meal. Opening his jaw wide, the snake made ready to strike.
Hand shaking, Rebecca clutched her comb. However, no matter how sharp, it seemed a meager defense against those teeth.
Then the largest chimp launched itself from a neighboring tree. Its body slammed into Rebecca. Not the face, please not the face was all Rebecca could think. Its fingernails dug into her dress. Then the python struck, nailing the chimp in the shoulder. The ape howled its pain, then bore its own rather impressive set of fangs and dug them into the snake.
The python apparently forgetting all about its human prey, released Rebecca. Instead, the snake reared, trying to slither back up to the high shelter of the canopy. The chimp climbed over Rebecca like she was a jungle gym, racing after the snake. Hissing, the python flung itself from the parachute to another tree.
The motion ripped the fabric.
Dropping, Rebecca closed her eyes. This was not going to be pretty.
But the harness caught, jerking her to a stop. More panicked than with purpose, Rebecca thrashed her legs. Finally, the strap gave, freeing her foot.
Nothing but the ground stopped her this time.
Stars, literal white stars, danced in her vision as her head struck a log. Blurry images filtered into her mind. The strangest being a little girl dressed in a bright-orange traditional kaftan with matching gelee headscarf.
"Hello," the girl stated with a thick Congolese accent.
Not sure if the child was real or simply a consequence of her concussion, Rebecca passed out.
CHAPTER 6.
Outside of Bomongo, Democratic Republic of the Congo 8:12 p.m. (CAT) Brandt pretended to stumble on a thick vine. Frellan had the men cut the zip ties on Brandt's legs but had insisted his hands stay bound. Which was fine by Brandt. It allowed the other men to relax around him. Especially after Brandt had been such a good boy the whole trek up the mountain.
Was his presumed compliance enough to give him a window of opportunity? Things had gone his way as they ventured into the jungle. The men had been forced to spread out, leaving only four men in his immediate vicinity. Others were in the nearby forest, but with only four nearby, Brandt might just be able to dispatch before the others could assist.
Wiping his brow with his arm, Brandt prepared to go from zero to sixty. This might be his last chance for escape. As the men chattered, Brandt picked up enough from their excitement to know that they were nearing the village. If he allowed them to secure him in the village, he was screwed. They would probably dope him again or begin the torture brigade. Either way, getting away would be next to impossible.
Taking a moment to center himself, Brandt breathed in. This could go badly. Like seriously badly. He was only one man against a dozen. Not just any dozen, but a dozen of highly trained mercenaries who knew this mountainside like he knew each and every one of Rebecca's curves.
Rebecca.
Stuff it down, Brandt. Don't get all maudlin. You are going to see her again.
Well, if luck swung his way.
A leaf fluttered next to him. Funny, a hole was blown through it. He glanced behind him, to see the rear guard slump to the ground.
What the fuck?
His head snapped forward. Beyond the forward guards, there was just more forest. Absolutely no window for someone to get a shot through. Unless your name was Davidson. Brandt's heart soared, like literally beat a hundred times stronger. His men were here. He stumbled again, this time not faking it. His limbs simply couldn't believe how fortunate they were.
What had gone from an insane gamble was now a fucking doable plan.
Brandt stared at the back of the closest guard's head.
Game on.
"What are we looking at?" Bunny asked, sitting down in an extremely comfortable computer chair.
Prenner had led them out of the dismally gray room, down several corridors and several security levels until they arrived in this distinctly colorful room. The room itself was nearly a cavern divided off into smaller sections by glass walls.
"We've got the thermal imaging Lopez requested," Emily answered, then off a frown from Prenner, bowed her head, sat down, and made the motion of zipping her lips closed and throwing away the key.
"At least for right now," Prenner stated. "The satellite had already been retasked for Nigeria, but we are catching a slice of the Congo for the next six minutes."
"What would you need to see in Nigeria?" Bunny asked.
By the set of Prenner's lips, she was not going to find out.
"Remember, Bunny," Emily reminded her, "everything you see is classified."
No kidding. Just a glance through the glass separators and Bunny could make out at least ten other military missions being monitored. Exactly how many missions did the Pentagon run a day?
"There is Brandt," Prenner announced, pointing to a throbbing blue glob overlaying a red glob on the screen. That certainly didn't even look human, let alone Brandt shaped. "That blue signal is his intra-dental transmitter."
"So they are transporting him through the jungle, then?" Emily asked.
Prenner gave a sharp nod.
Brandt was flanked by three men. Bunny could only assume those were his Disciple guards. There were many other orange globs scattered throughout the forest. Many, many other globs. That was a lot of men.
"What are those?" Bunny asked, pointing to several light-yellow figures that stayed stationary.
"Dead bodies," Prenner answered.
Bunny's hand flew to her mouth. Was one of them Davidson?
Emily patted her arm. "Watch there."
Not knowing why her handler was pointing to a speck so far away from Brandt, Bunny watched what appeared to be a villager. Then a bright-red flash. She followed Emily's finger to another orange glob that slumped over, rapidly turning yellow.
"Davidson is using our scans to pinpoint the enemy's location," Emily explained.
Prenner nodded. "He is thinning the herd."
"So the Disciples are just going to let themselves get picked off and let Brandt walk out of there?"