Part 20 (1/2)

Camera checked her wrist compa.s.s. ”Southwest. It's pointing the right way.”

”But what about the numbers? Seventeen and five:”

The Ranger scrunched up her face. ”Maybe a date, done the military way. The day, followed by the month:”

”That would make it May seventeenth? That's nearly three months ago:” Turning, Nate started to question her a.s.sessment, but Camera had a palm raised toward him. Her other hand pressed her radio earpiece more firmly in place.

She spoke into her radio. ”Roger that. We're on our way.”

Nate raised an inquiring eyebrow.

”Conger and Kostos,” she said. ”They've found bodies ahead.”

Nate felt a sickening lurch in his belly.

”Come on,” Camera said stiffly. ”They want your opinion:”

Nodding, Nate continued up the trail. Behind him, as they marched, Private Camera reported their discovery to her captain.

As Nate hurried, he glanced down and realized he still held the bit of faded yellow material. He remembered Gerald Clark had stumbled out of the jungle barefoot, wearing only pants. Had the man used the sc.r.a.ps of his own s.h.i.+rt to flag these sites? Like a trail of bread crumbs back to wherever he had come from? Nate rubbed the bit of cloth between his fingers. After four years, here was the first tangible bit of proof that at least some of his father's team had survived. Up to this point, Nate had not entertained any hope that his father was still alive. In fact, he had refused even to contemplate that possi-bility, not after so long, not after coming to some semblance of peace with his father's death. The pain of losing his father a second time would be more than he could handle. Nate stared at the sc.r.a.p in his hand for a sec-ond longer, then stuffed it into a pocket.

As he trekked up the trail, he wondered if there were more such flags out there. Though he had no way of knowing, Nate knew one thing for certain. He would not stop looking, not until he discovered the truth of his father's fate.

Camera swore behind him.

Nathan glanced back. Camera had an arm over her nose and mouth. Only then did Nate notice the stench in the air. Rancid meat and offal.

”Over here!” a voice called out. It was Staff Sergeant Kostos. The older Ranger stood only ten yards farther down the trail. In full camouflage, he blended well with the dappled background.

Nate crossed to him and was immediately a.s.saulted by a horrible sight.

”Jesus Christ,” Camera gasped behind him.

Corporal Conger, the young Texan, was farther down the trail, a handkerchief over his face, in the thick of the slaughterhouse. He waved off vul-tures with his M-16 as swarms of flies rose around him.

Bodies lay sprawled everywhere: on the trail, in the woods, some draped halfway in the stream. Men, women, children. All Indians from the look of them, but it was difficult to say for sure. Faces had been chewed away, limbs gnawed to bone, entrails ripped from bellies. The carrion feed-ers had made quick work of the bodies, leaving the rest to flies, other insects, and burrowing worms. Only the diminutive sizes of the corpses suggested they were Yanomamo, the missing villagers. And from the num-ber, probably theentire village.

Nathan closed his eyes. He pictured the villagers with whom he had worked in the past: little Tama, n.o.ble Takaho. With a sudden burst, he rushed off the trail and hunched over the stream. He breathed deeply, fightingin vain the rising gorge. With a sickening groan, his stomach spasmed. Bile splattered into the flowing water, swelled by the recent rains. Nate remained crouched, hands on his knees, breathing hard.

Kostos barked behind him. ”We don't have all day, Rand. What do you think happened here? An attack by another tribe?”

Nate could not move, not trusting his stomach.

Private Camera joined him, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoul-der. ”The sooner we get this done,”

she said softly, ”the sooner we can leave:”

Nathan nodded, took a final deep breath, and forced himself to climb back within view of the slaughter.

He studied the area from a few steps away, then moved closer. ”What do you think?” Camera asked.

Gulping back bile, Nate spoke quietly. ”They must've fled during the night.”

”Why do you say that?” Kostos asked.

Nate glanced to the sergeant, then nudged a stick near one of the corpses. ”A torch. Burned to char at the end. The village took flight in full darkness:” He studied the bodies, recognizing a pattern to the carnage. He pointed an arm as he spoke. ”When the attack came, the men tried to pro-tect the women and children. When they failed, the women were a second line of defense. They tried to run with the children:” Nate indicated a woman's corpse deeper in the woods. In her arms rested a dead child. He turned away.

”The attack came from across the stream,” Nate continued. His hand shook as he pointed to the number of male bodies piled near or in the stream. ”They must have been caught by surprise. Too late to put up an adequate defense.”

”I don't care in what order they were killed,” Kostos said. ”Who the h.e.l.l killed them?”

”I don't know,” Nate said. ”None of the bodies are pierced by arrows or spears. But then again, the enemy might have collected their weapons after the attack-to conserve their a.r.s.enal and to leave no evidence behind. With the bodies so torn apart, it's impossible to tell which wounds are from weapons and which from the carrion feeders.”

”So in other words, you have no d.a.m.n clue:” Kostos shook his head and swung around. From a few steps away, he spoke into his radio.

Nate wiped his damp forehead and s.h.i.+vered. What the h.e.l.lhad hap-pened here?

Finally, Kostos stepped forward, raising his voice. ”New orders every-one. We're to collect a body for Dr. O'Brien to examine-one that's chewed up the least-and return it to the village. Any volunteers?”

No one answered, which earned a mean snicker from the sergeant. ”Okay,” Kostos said. ”I didn't think so.” He pointed to Private Camera. ”Why don't you take our fragile little doctor back to camp? This is men's work:”

”Yes, sir.” Camera waved Nate to the path, and together they continued down toward the village. Once out of earshot, Camera grumbled under her breath. ”What an a.s.shole. . :”

Nate nodded, but truthfully, he was only too glad to leave the ma.s.sacre site. He couldn't care less what Sergeant Kostos might think. But he under-stood Camera's anger. Nate could only imagine the ha.s.sles the woman had to endure from the all-male force.

The remainder of the journey down the trail was made in silence. As they neared theshabano, voices could be heard. Nathan's pace quickened. It would be good to be among the living again. He hoped someone had thought to light a fire.

Circling around theshabano, Nathan approached Private Eddie Jones, who stood guard by the entrance. Beyond him, limned against the water, a pair of Rangers was posted by the river.

As he and Camera reached the roundhouse's door, Eddie Jones greeted them and blurted out the news.”Hey, you guys ain't gonna f.u.c.kin' believe what we fished out of the jungle:'

”What?” Camera asked.

Jones thrust a thumb toward the door. ”Go see for yourselves:”

Camera waved her rifle's barrel for Nate to go first.

Within theshabano, a small congregation was cl.u.s.tered in the round-house's open central yard. Manny stood somewhat to the side with Tor--tor. He lifted an arm when he spotted Nate, but there was no greeting smile.

The voices from the others were raised in argument.

”He's my prisoner!” Captain Waxman boomed. He stood with three Rangers, who all had their weapons on their shoulders pointing at some-one out of sight behind the group of civilians.

”At least remove the cuffs on his wrists,” Kelly argued. ”His ankles are still bound. He's just an old man.”

”If you want cooperation,” Kouwe added, ”this is no way to go about it:”

”He'll answer our questions,” Waxman said with clear menace.

Frank stepped in front of Waxman. ”This is still my operation, Cap-tain. And I won't tolerate abuse of this prisoner:”