Part 51 (2/2)

How?”

Nathan Rand towered over him at the entrance to the tunnel, a long, thick section of branch in his hand, which he raised menacingly.

Zane crab-crawled backward.

”How?” Nate asked. ”A little lesson from our Indian friends. The power of suggestion:” Rand kicked the immature seed pod toward him. ”Believe something strongly enough, and others will believe, too:”

Zane scrambled to his feet.

Nate swung the branch like a bat, striking him on the shoulder and knocking him back down. ”That was for the shaman you shot like a dog!” Nate lifted the branch again. ”And this is for-”

Zane glanced over Nate's shoulder. ”Kelly! Thank G.o.d!”

Nate turned half around.

Using the moment of distraction, Zane shot to his feet and darted away. He cleared the side root in three steps.

He heard the blistering protest behind him and smiled.

What a...

. . . fool!Tricked by his own d.a.m.n ruse! No one stood at the tunnel entrance. Kelly was not there.

Nate watched Zane race around the thick b.u.t.tress. ”No, you don't, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” With club in hand, he gave chase.

Still ringing with anger, Nate flew around the tree and spotted Zane fleeing along the base of the trunk, toward a tangle of roots. The traitor could easily get lost among them and escape. Nate thought of going back for the abandoned pistol, but he didn't have the time. He dared not lose sight of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

Ahead, Zane ducked under an arched root and wriggled through agilely. He was one wiry son of a b.i.t.c.h.

In this race, Zane's smaller frame and lighter build were advantageous.

Realizing they were matched now fist to fist, Nathan tossed aside his club and pursued Zane. They fought through the snarl, crawling, climbing, leaping, squirming their way through the tangled maze. Zane was making headway on him.

Then the roots opened. They both stumbled onto some path amid the mess. Zane ran, pounding down the trail. Nate swore and went after him.

Ahead, water glistened. As they raced along the snaking trail, Nate saw the path ended at a wide pool, blocking the way. A dead end.

Nate smiled.End of the line, Zane!

As they neared the pool, his quarry also realized he had run himself into a blind alley and slowed-but instead of a groan of defeat, Nate heard a snarl of glee.

Zane leaped to the side, diving for the ground.

Nate closed the distance.

Zane swung to face him, a gun in hand. A 9mm Beretta.

It took Nate a startled moment to fathom this miracle. Then he saw his own shotgun, hanging by its shoulder strap froma rootlet a few steps to hisright. The pistol was Kelly's! One of the weapons Zane had made them toss out of the treetop.

Nate groaned. The G.o.ds were not smiling on him. He took a step toward his shotgun, but Zane clucked his tongue.

”Move another inch, and you get a third eye!”

9:46 A.M.

Kouwe herded Anna ahead of him. The crack of rifle fire was closing all around them. Dakii led the way, expressionless, in scout mode. He wound with calm a.s.surance through his village forest, guiding them back toward the nightcap oak. They needed to rendezvous with the Rangers. Put together some semblance of a plan.

Kouwe had been able to contact Sergeant Kostos over the radio and inform him of their status. He had also learned that Olin, left up in the dwelling, had been able to report in, too. The Russian was keeping himself well hidden in the tree. But so far no word had come from Nate's party. He prayed they were okay.

At last, Kouwe spotted sunlight ahead. The central glade! His team had been circling around from the south, keeping within the jungle cover. According to the sergeant, the Rangers were angling down from the north side.

Dakii slowed and pointed from a half crouch.

Anna and Kouwe moved up with him. Through a break in the foliage, Kouwe spotted the small log cabin in the clearing. He was able to orient himself. He followed the tribesman's arm. The nightcap oak, their destina-tion, lay onlyfifty yards ahead. But that was not what Dakii was pointing out. Beyond the giant oak, Kouwe spotted Tor-tor. The jaguar raced along the clearing's edge. Drawn by the motion, Kouwe was able to see figures moving through the deeper shadows.

The Ranger team and Manny! They had made it back!

Dakii led them onward, speeding deftly through the glade's fringe.

In a few minutes, the two parties reunited at the base of the tree. Sergeant Kostos clapped Kouwe on the shoulder. Anna and Manny hugged.

”Any word from Nate?” Kouwe asked.

The sergeant shook his head, then waved to the dwelling. ”I've ordered Olin to pack up his GPS and join us:”

”Why? I thought the plan was to rendezvous at the tree.”

”This is close enough. As near as I can tell, we're boxed in. The tree is no protection:”

Kouwe frowned but understood. The marauders were systematically destroying every dwelling. They'd be trapped up there. ”What then?”

”We bug out of here. Find a way through their line as silently as possi-ble. Once past them, we'll seek shelter, somewhere where they can't find us:”

Manny edged closer to them, glancing at his watch. ”The sergeant set one of his napalm bombs back in the woods, timed to explode in another fifteen minutes:” ”A distraction,” Sergeant Kostos said. He hiked his pack on his shoul-der. ”And we have more if we need them:”

”It's why we can't wait for Nate,” Manny said, reading his friend's eyes.

Kouwe gazed at the Yagga. The sound of gunfire was trickling away . . . as was their time. If they were going to have any chance, they would have to take it now. Kouwe reluctantly nodded, conceding.

Overhead, the vine ladder shuddered. He glanced up. Olin was climb-ing down, his radio pack in place.

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