Part 52 (1/2)
Kostos waved his M-16. ”Let's get ready to-”
The blast rocked them all to their knees. Kouwe swung around and watched the roof of the cabin sail high into the air. Bits of debris blew out-ward with tremendous force. A section of log shot by overhead, a flying battering ram, slicing into the jungle and cras.h.i.+ng into its depths. Smoke billowed outward.
That was no grenade blast.
Through the smoke, a cadre of soldiers appeared, weapons raised and ready.
Kouwe noticed two things simultaneously. First, walking in the lead was a naked woman, hand in hand with a tall gentleman dressed all in white.
But the second thing Kouwe noted was of more immediate menace, something carried by one of the soldiers. The man dropped to a knee and lifted a long black tube on his shoulder.
Kouwe had seen enough Hollywood movies to recognize the weapon.”Rocket launcher!” Camera screamed behind him. ”Everyone down!”
10:03 A.M.
The first blast hadfrozen both Nate and Zane in place. Nate kept focused on his adversary's weapon.
From only a few yards away, the pistol was pointing square at his chest. He dared not move. He held his breath.
What was going on out there?
As the second blast sounded, Zane's eyes twitched in the direction of the explosion. Nate knew he wouldn't have another chance. He was dead unless he did something . . . even something stupid.
Nate lunged through the air, not toward Zane, but toward the dangling shotgun. His movement did not go unnoticed. Nate heard the sharp report of Zane's pistol and felt something sting his upper thigh, but he didn't stop.
His body struck the root, his arms scrambling for the shotgun. He didn't have time to unhook the strap.From where it hung, he just blindly swung the barrel in Zane's general direction and yanked the trigger.
Recoil tore the weapon from his hand.
Nate ducked and swung around.
He saw Zane flying backward, his belly b.l.o.o.d.y, arms flung out. Zane landed in the small pond at the end of the blocked trail. He sputtered to the surface-the water was surprisingly deep, even near sh.o.r.e-and cried in alarm and pain.
Zane was now learning the lesson he had taught the unarmed Ban-ali shaman: a belly shot was one of the most agonizing.
Nate pushed up and unhooked his shotgun. He pointed it at the floun-dering man. He had not seen where the pistol had gone and was taking no chances this time.
Zane, his face a mask of torment, struggled toward the sh.o.r.e. Then his body suddenly jerked, his eyes widened in shock. His moaning turned to fresh screams. ”Nate! Help me!”
Responding instinctively, Nate took a step forward.
Zane reached toward him, face pleading, terrified-then all around his body, the waters erupted in a fierce churning.
Nate caught several flashes of silver bodies.Piranhas. He backed away, realizing where he was: the birthing pool, the hatchery that Manny had described finding.
Zane thrashed, jerking and twitching, screeching. He began to sink into the froth. His eyes rolled with panic as he fought to keep his mouth above water. He failed. His head sank away. Only one arm remained above the pool-then even this disappeared under the roiling waters.
Nate turned from the pool and crossed down the path, feeling no pity for the man. He briefly checked the stinging burn in his thigh. He found a bullet hole in his pants and a trickle of blood. Just a graze, nothing more. He had been d.a.m.ned lucky.
He clenched the shotgun in his grip and marched down the trail, pray-ing his luck would hold.
10:12A.M.
Manny s.h.i.+ftedunder a pile of debris, shoving with his shoulders. Smoke choked him. The explosion of the rocket in the treetop still rang in his head. It hurt to move his jaw. He crawled free amid shouts and yells. All commands.
”Throw down your weapons!”
”Show us your hands!”
”Move now, or I'll shoot you dead where you lie!” That was incentive enough. Manny groaned and spat out blood. He glanced up into chaos. He saw Anna Fong on her knees, hands on her head. She looked all but unscathed. Professor Kouwe knelt at her side, bearing a scalp gash that dripped blood down his cheek. Dakii was also there, wearing an expression of stunned disbelief.
Turning, Manny saw Tor-tor's spotted face peering out from under a bush. He motioned the jaguar to stay put. Near the same bush, he watched Private Camera furtively shove her Bailey under a section of the roof thatch from one of the abodes above.
”You!” someone barked. ”On your feet!”
Manny didn't know who the man was talking to until he felt the hot barrel of a gun on his temple. He froze.
”On your feet!” the man repeated. His words were heavily accented, German perhaps.
Manny clambered to his knees, then to his feet. He wobbled, but this seemed to satisfy the mercenary.
”Your weapon!” he barked.
Manny glanced around him as if searching for a missing shoe or sock. He saw his pistol lying there and nudged it with a toe. ”There:”
A second soldier appeared out of nowhere and confiscated it.
”Join theanderen!” the man said with a shove toward the others.
As he stumbled toward his kneeling friends, Manny saw Camera and Kostos escorted by other guards.
Their holsters were empty, packs gone. They were all forced to their knees, hands on their heads. The sergeant's left eye was swollen, his nose crooked and bloodied, broken. Kostos had clearly put up more fight than Manny.
Suddenly a distant section of deeper forest blew up into a ball of fire. The soft explosion echoed out to them, along with the smell of napalm.
So much for Kostos's planned ”distraction:” Too little, too late.
”Herr Brail, this one's not moving!” one of the mercenaries shouted behind them in a mix of German and Spanish.
Manny glanced back to the base of the nightcap oak. It was Olin. He lay in a crumpled heap. A spear of wood had pierced through his shoulder and blood flowed brightly across his light khaki s.h.i.+rt. Manny saw he was still breathing.
The one named Brail tore his gaze from the burning forest and wan-dered over to check on the Russian.
”Hundefleisch,” the German said. Dogmeat. He lifted his pistol and shot Olin in the back of the head.