Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) (38 page)

He
handed his gun and ammo over, replacing it with the remaining AK-47, Laura
handing out two handguns and some ammo taken from the soldiers. “Arm yourselves
with whatever you can. Try to conserve your ammo.”

“They’re
coming!” It was Mitchell’s voice. Acton looked down the hall and saw Jenny
joining her husband in the cell. Acton rushed to the already opened window, motioning
for the natives to move farther inside the building. Laura directed them into
two of the rooms facing the pit, motioning for them to all get low. The men
with the knives positioned themselves at the door to the rooms as Acton took up
position at the window, immediately spotting two of the enemy emerging from the
trees.

“Hold
your fire!” he whispered to Laura, who passed the message down to Reading, who
again passed it down to the Mitchells.

Acton
counted three, then four, then six, crouching, advancing cautiously. He
remained just out of sight, barely a sliver of his head in view, the glare of
the sun overhead, from the east obscuring their view, the awning over his
window casting a shadow that hid him even more.

The last
emerged into the open, out of sight of the machine gun nests.

He rose
from his hiding place, squeezing the trigger, signaling the others to open
fire.

Dawson checked left and saw half a dozen Chinese coming into sight,
but before he could turn to engage they were all wiped out by he assumed the
occupants of the building.

Good
goin’ Docs!

He
returned his attention to the portion of the forest he was covering, just left
of the road, squeezing off a few bursts at shadows, making sure to keep left of
where Spock and Mickey were positioned. They were in depressions on either side
of the road, taking out targets of opportunity while they could, but with
orders to fall back as soon as the enemy got within fifty yards.

Speaking
of…

Spock
tore around the corner, Mickey on his heels as they sprinted toward his
position. “Bring the rain!” shouted Spock, prompting Dawson to open fire on
their former position. Screams could be heard as he made use of his precious
ammo, but seconds later he was out.

“Reload!”
he yelled as Mickey and Spock dove behind their hardened foxhole, Atlas
reloading. He felt the slap on his back and opened fire as the cleared area
between the road and airfield filled with dozens of troops. He took out at
least a dozen before they hit the ground, returning fire, his sandbags taking
some serious hits.

This
could be it!

Tuk held up his hand and the entire procession came to a halt, quiet
within seconds. He listened and frowned, the strange noises he had heard when
his village was attacked occurring once again, not far from here. He turned to
face the warriors, fear written on many of their faces, the sounds so alien to
them. Kinti translated once again his words as he spoke them.

“Men!
Warriors! Be not afraid! The strange sounds you hear are merely the Panther
People’s spears! They are fast, they can’t be seen, but they are thrown in the
direction they point the stick in their hands, so if you see one pointed at
you, get down! Remember, the Spirit People are on our side so do not harm them!
And should fear enter your heart, remember that the Mother is on our side! She
will protect you! And should She feel it is your time to join Her in the
afterlife, then embrace it! For today we fight for Her children and Her forest,
Her bounty meant for us, not for the Panther People who would steal it. So push
the fear aside, hold your spear tight, and let’s earn our honored place in the
afterlife!”

The
warriors roared and Tuk turned, yelling at the top of his lungs as he sprinted
forward, Kinti at his side, and as each foot touched the ground, he swore he
could feel the Mother herself vibrating with the courage of the thousand
warriors he led.

Chen raised his hand.

“Cease
fire!” he yelled. “Cease fire!”

His
troops held their fire, keeping their weapons trained on the enemy positions,
they themselves beginning to hold their fire. Chen motioned for a megaphone and
was tossed one by one of his men.

“Colonel
Leather and friends, this is Dr. Chen. You are surrounded by overwhelming
numbers on all sides. There is no hope of winning this battle. I suggest you
surrender now and save yourselves. I guarantee you will not be killed.”

He heard
several laughs from the opposing side.

“I give
you sixty seconds.”

Dawson took the opportunity to have Spock and Mickey redeploy to one
of the machine gun nests that had been left unmanned when he saw Leather
sprinting from his position, rolling into the foxhole with him and Atlas.

“What do
you think?” asked Leather as Dawson took a bead on Chen as the cocky bastard
strode out into the open, a dozen of his troops surrounding him on all sides
but the all-important front.

“There’s
no way they’re letting us live. This is too big a secret. Best case scenario
they force us to work the mines.”

“I’d
rather be dead with honor than a slave like my great-granddaddy,” said Atlas.

“Agreed,”
said Dawson.

Leather
extended his hand. “It’s been an honor and a privilege to fight by your side,
Sergeant Major.”

Dawson
shook the man’s hand, his face grim. “Who dares, wins, Colonel.”

Leather
smiled at the citation of the SAS motto. “Then let us dare.”

He
raised his weapon, taking aim at the troops in front of them, but before any
shots were fired, a dull roar began to the south, spreading around the entire
area, getting louder as it did so.

“What
the hell is that?” asked Dawson.

Atlas
looked to the trees. “Sounds like we’re in the middle of a football stadium.”

Dawson’s
eyes narrowed. “Could Tuk’s people have got here already?”

Leather
shrugged. “If they sprinted and travelled at night, absolutely. But they were
barely fifty if that. That sounds like hundreds, if not more.”

Atlas
looked around nervously. “Then who the hell is it?”

Dawson
frowned. “Whoever or whatever it is, let’s just hope it’s on our side.”

Chen looked around, as did his men. The sound was getting louder and
now surrounded them from all sides it seemed, except for the road, though that
gap he had the sense was closing quickly. His men were nervous, looking about
and slowly backing away from the mine site, even he having to resist the urge
to move.

As he
listened it became quite clear it was the shouting of people, hundreds of
people, thousands of people. How many he had no idea. The one thing he was sure
of was that they were natives, which meant spears and darts.

And he
had body armor.

“They’re
merely natives with nothing but spears!” he shouted to his men. “Prepare to
teach them a lesson!”

His men
stopped retreating, turning their attention to the forest, slowly moving out of
the line of fire of the defenders when everything stopped.

Chen
looked at the far side of the compound, where a single, small native stood, a
woman approaching from his right.

TikTik gasped, jumping up excitedly as she pointed out the window at
the lone warrior who had appeared from the forest, soon accompanied by a woman.
“It’s Tuk!” she cried, the rest of the villagers pushing to get a look through
the two windows available to them. She felt a flush of jealousy as the
beautiful woman stood by his side, and she wondered if he had taken a mate.

Her
chest tightened, sadness gripping her as she realized what she had wished for
her friend had come true, her guilty heart aching as it tried to reconcile the
fact she was now available again and he wasn’t. But she also knew her mother
and father, especially her mother, would never let her mate with him, that much
they had made abundantly clear.

She felt
a hand grip her arm and she turned to see Mother smiling at her, tears filling
her eyes as if she knew exactly what she was thinking. She turned back to the
window, looking at Tuk simply standing there, spear in hand, nobody doing
anything, defenders or aggressors. It was as if the Mother Herself had held her
breath, waiting to see what this lone, weak man would, or even could, do against
the magic of the Panther People.

And then
he spoke, with a confidence and volume she had never heard from him in all her
years. It gave her goose bumps as she swelled with pride, knowing in an instant
that this was no longer the Tuk of several days ago, but a new Tuk, a Tuk
worthy of being the mate to any woman he should so desire.

“I am
Tuk! Warrior for the great Mother! In Her name, I demand you surrender your
spears or die!”

The
woman with him was shouting in a different language, one she didn’t recognize,
but as she finished, the entire forest surrounding them erupted in, “Tuk! Tuk!
Tuk!”

Tears
rolled down her cheeks as she looked at Mother in awe, a look of pride on the
old woman’s face she had never seen before. They hugged each other as those in
the room patted them on the back.

“That’s
my boy!” cried Mother, the pride and shame of not feeling it until now evident
in her voice.

Suddenly
the strange sounds of the Panther People’s spears erupted and TikTik jumped
back to the window to see Tuk dive to the side, rolling back to his feet and
with incredible speed, hurl his spear through the air. TikTik expected it to
fall short, far short, as did they all, but as they watched it continued to
gain height, to travel forward straight and true, and when it became clear it
might just have enough distance to reach the enemy, she began to cheer, joining
the hundreds of voices chanting her girlhood crush’s name.

Then cried
for joy when it impaled the leader through the chest, his expression one of
stunned disbelief before he crumpled to the ground.

Tuk dropped to the ground almost immediately after he loosed the
spear, rolling over to Kinti as he watched it sail through the air. It was as
if every set of eyes in this strange place were watching his throw, the Panther
People even stopping aiming their strange spears, and when the throw proved
true, he smiled, grabbing Kinti by the shoulder and shaking her.

“Did you
see that?” he cried, it the most incredible throw he had ever seen from anyone.
The strange sounds erupted from all over as he heard his warriors storm
forward, filled with confidence now that they had seen one of their enemy
felled by their leader.

Kinti
gasped.

Tuk’s
eyes narrowed, then he cried out, “No!” as he rolled her over to see blood
oozing from her stomach. He didn’t know anything to say, no one else speaking
his language. He jumped up, facing the strange shelters, and yelled the only
word he could.

“Help!”

And
almost immediately, the man he presumed was Kinti’s mate burst from one of the
lodges, racing toward them as spears darkened the sky.

Dawson opened fire, killing everything he could as hundreds of
spears began to strike the ground, many impaling the Chinese unfortunate enough
to be occupying the same spot of earth. Dozens upon dozens died within the
first minute as hundreds of natives poured from the tree line and into the
open. Dawson continued to fire until it was no longer safe to do so, the
natives about to become intermingled with the surviving Chinese.

The
lines were broken and it was evident all command structure had collapsed, the
troops retreating in an orderly manner down the road, firing coordinated bursts
at the advancing natives, then when the numbers proved simply too overwhelming,
turning tail and sprinting toward their transports.

Dawson
simply sat back, his hands in the open as natives overwhelmed their positions,
spears and stone knives threatening them, but not killing them.

“Just
stay calm, smile, but don’t show any teeth,” muttered Leather under his breath.

Dawson
smiled, his teeth covered tightly by his lips, his hands out as he slowly
looked around to see the same thing happening at the other nests. As the
screams of the Chinese became more distant, their gunfire more sporadic, he
realized the immediate danger here was over, and slowly rose when he spotted
Tuk coming toward them with a strut in his step he hadn’t thought possible in
the simple, diminutive man.

He said
something, waving his hand and the spears were immediately lifted. Dawson
stepped out of the foxhole and approached Tuk. The young native held out both
arms and Dawson grasped them by the wrists as the young man smiled, saying
something.

But
there was no one to translate and Dawson wondered where Kinti was.

“Tuk!”
cried a woman’s voice. Dawson turned to see one of the young native girls who
had been hiding in the compound buildings jump from the door, racing toward
them, the rest of the natives inside streaming after her.

“Tuk!”

Tuk spun to see TikTik running toward him. He cried out in joy as he
rushed through the crowd of warriors toward her. But rather than greet her with
the traditional two arm grasp of friends, he grabbed around her body, lifting
her into the air like he would his mate, and held her tight as tears rolled
down his cheeks.

“I
thought you were dead!”

She
shook her head. “No, only Bruk.”

Tuk
pushed back slightly in deference to his dead friend, and TikTik’s dead mate.
But she held onto him, tight. “I’m so sorry for your loss, TikTik.”

“As am
I. And I will mourn him, but move on. For I know now that I will be mated to
the man, to the warrior I always wanted to be mated to my entire life.”

Tuk felt
his chest tighten slightly as his eyes narrowed. “Who?” he finally asked, his
voice almost cracking at the thought of there being even more competition for
the beautiful TikTik’s heart.