Devil's Gold (49 page)

Cassidy reached down, feeling along her jeans for her knife. An eerie sound drifted across the night. A soft melody that contrasted with the wild beat of native drums. “Hush, little baby, don't you cry …”

Cassidy inhaled sharply as the breath was knocked from her chest. An arrow of pain shot across her breasts, burning and searching for a place to escape her body. She dropped her knife, tilted her head back, and screamed into the night, but her throat was dry and no sound emerged.

Fire. Her veins were on fire. Cassidy dropped to the ground, turning her head and staring into the eyes of Michelle. “What?”

Michelle brandished an empty needle, then tossed it behind her. “Salutations from Robert Cole.”

Jake traipsed after Anna, following a group of men into the jungle. The soft ground muffled their steps, and the men before him became ghosts floating silently between the clusters of mangrove forests. They paused at a clearing, and he signaled for the rebel leaders to approach. Anna stood beside him in case she needed to translate. The beating of the drums added an eerie background noise and he swore softly, wishing this feeling of dread and fear would unknot his insides.

Motioning to the men, he crouched and listened to their individual reports. A man lifted his head and spoke above the others. “I am Sunday. I'll be watching you until you leave this area. We found only large gatherings of Kill-and-Go to the south. They didn't head your way, and we didn't cause any bloodshed.”

Jake smiled, hiding his concern. “Thank you, Sunday.” If Kill-and-Go were congregating in the south, then Robert Cole must be close, which meant the virus had definitely reached the Niger Delta.

“If you need me, you must whistle.”

Jake nodded and clapped the man on his shoulder, thanking him. He watched as Sunday broke the men into separate groups and thanked them for their participation. With a quick glance over his shoulder, the man's face split into a wide smile flashing bright white teeth at Jake. He brandished his gun in one hand and lifted a sharp-edged machete in the other. “We go.” They melted into the night until only Jake and Anna remained in the clearing.

He frowned and found himself chewing his bottom lip. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head that he'd succumbed to Cassidy's habit, he pointed back toward the direction they'd come from. “Let's go get Cassidy. I want you to remain in the village until morning in case something crops up that I need to be aware of.”

Anna nodded and headed past a cluster of mangroves. “That'll be fine.”

Michelle withdrew a gun and dug it into Cassidy's temple. The woman's eyes reminded Cassidy of Nick Fowler's. Wild and unrestrained. Evil. “You have more personalities than Cybil.” Cassidy spat in her face, attempting to block out the ramifications of what she thought ran through her veins. “I take it this is a little taste of what was cooked up in Yellowstone?”

Michelle hissed and pinched Cassidy's arm where the needle had penetrated. “Oh yeah. But, hey, take heart. You're gonna be famous. You'll go down in the history books as the mad scientist that killed the Niger Delta.” Her gaze narrowed, and Michelle gripped Cassidy's arm. “Now, I've lost patience. Where's the survey?”

A flash of the punching bag entered her mind, and Cassidy remembered her vow. Better, stronger, smarter. Strength in pain.
Oh, no, sister. I'm not going to die alone
. Cassidy twisted toward the woman, her elbow slamming into Michelle's chest and knocking the gun from her hand. She grabbed the ecologist's arm, wrapping her fingers around the woman's wrist with an iron grip and yanking Michelle toward her. Cassidy sank her teeth into flesh. Her jaw locked and she pushed deeper, making certain the skin burst and the salty taste of warm blood flooded her mouth. “Salutations from me, bitch.” Cassidy spit blood and torn flesh onto the ground, wiping the back of her hand against her mouth.

Michelle screeched in pain and swore, clipping Cassidy under the jaw with the sharp edge of her knuckles. “You fool. I'll return to headquarters and inject the antidote while you lay here dying, alone and unloved with these disgusting natives you care for so much.” She bent forward and lowered her voice. “If you give me the survey, I'll consider sending you back the antidote.”

Cassidy was no fool. She concentrated on fighting the automatic urge to check the swatch of packing tape that secured the survey in place. The flash drive she'd taped beneath her breast felt as if it weighed a million pounds and blinked on and off like a neon sign. “I don't have it,” she lied.

“Bitch. I know you do. It was on the plane.”

Deciding to switch tactics, she softened her voice. “How could you possibly turn your back on ZEBRA after all your years of service?”

Michelle swiped her arm against the sweat forming on her forehead, leaving a red smudge on her cheek from the bite Cassidy had inflicted. “Robert Cole is an incredible man. He's going to make the world sit up and take notice.”

Realization dawned, and Cassidy's eyes widened. “You're in love with him?”

“Give me the survey, Cassidy, and I'll come back. I promise.”

Shaking her head, she hissed at Michelle. “Never. When Sharpe finds out about your betrayal, you'll be blacklisted and alone. Think of that.” Cassidy gazed beyond Michelle's shoulder, noticing that the villagers had ceased dancing and were staring in her direction.

“Drew?” Michelle laughed softly, glancing over her shoulder nervously. “He's dead.”

Cassidy lost her breath and struggled to swallow. “What?”

“Such a shame. It appears he couldn't stomach the idea of your part in this little adventure.”

“My part?”

Michelle sat back on her haunches and retrieved her gun from the dirt. “Sure. In awhile, you'll be too sick to talk. These people care for you; they'll take whatever measures are necessary to make you better.” She bent closer and whispered in Cassidy's ear, her breath hot and feeling as dangerous as a viper's bite. “You're going to spread this disease, Cassidy. It'll be you. You'll kill the Niger Delta.” Michelle's patience snapped, and she yelled. “Where's the damn survey?”

The echo of the ecologist's voice drew the attention of the villagers. Several men headed in their direction.

Michelle swore.

“You'll be stuck here with me,” Cassidy said. “No chance at that antidote.” She gazed beyond the woman at the crude weapons carried by the tribal elders. Michelle's eyes were wide with indecision, but the urge for survival won and the woman backed away, disappearing into the wavering shadows of a mangrove tree.

Cassidy whimpered, a tear slipping down her cheek. Her blood a river of fire as it poured poison into her veins. She needed to stay conscious long enough to warn off the villagers.

Edward rested his head upon the cool surface of the sterile laboratory counters. His body ached from the rough handling of his captivity, and the crude stitches in his ear were not holding up. Blood seeped onto his arm, but he ignored it. Over the past few hours, he'd succumbed to the truth of his future.

There was none.

The laboratory door opened, and a slender woman in her mid-forties entered. She wore all black, which accentuated the curves of her body. He lifted his head and sat up, struggling against the threat of fading into a faint.

“Fiske?” Her voice cut the silence of the lab in two.

“Yes.”

“Give me the antidote for CPV-19.”

Edward slid off his chair and shuffled toward the silver briefcase. He snapped open the lid and handed the woman a vial.

“Syringe?”

Alarmed, he studied her face. A thin line of blood leaked from the edge of her ear and her breathing appeared labored and thick with mucus. He twisted around and grabbed a sterile syringe from a box on the counter. “Here.” Edward pushed it in her direction.

She snatched it up, broke the end open, and plunged it into the vial of antidote. “How much?”

“One
cc”

The woman released the plunger, expelling what she didn't need, then jammed the needle into her arm. She moved forward and gripped the edge of the countertop as the antidote flooded her veins. Edward knew from personal experience the burning sensation followed by cold numbness that raged through the woman's body.

After a few moments, she lifted her head and moved into the center of the room. His eyes widened when he recognized the insignia on her shirt. ZEBRA. “Are you here to rescue me?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes. I'm here to deliver you to your Maker.”

Her arm lifted, and he peered down the barrel of a gun. Edward closed his eyes and said a final prayer. He felt a wave of relief at no longer having to carry the burden of the horrible disease his ego created.

Gunfire sounded, and the world went black.

Jake moved through the trees, alerted by the cessation of the ceremonial drums. His pulse beat rapidly, and fear grabbed his gut and twisted painfully. He paused, his hand resting lightly on the slick bark of a mangrove tree. The tempo of the village had changed since his departure. No longer were figures dancing and singing around a center pyre; they were gathered and pacing in worried circles. Jake searched the area for Cassidy.

He swore. Her blond hair should be a lighthouse among the dark-skinned Ijwo. One of the medicine men stepped forward and grabbed Jake by the elbow. “Come here.”

Jake glanced back at Anna, who shook her head, as confused and worried as he was. “What's going on?”

“Your woman …” The man pointed toward one of the low-rise concrete buildings.

Jake's breath caught, and he shook off the man's hand and ran toward the building. He went to enter, but another man grabbed his shoulders. Jake struggled, shouting Cassidy's name. He broke through the web of hands and crashed into the building, slamming the door open.

“Come no closer,” a loud voice commanded from the dark interior.

Jake squinted and recognized the man in the ornate beaded shirt with feathers and bird claws hanging from his dreadlocks as the one who'd approached Cassidy earlier that night and asked her to stay. “What's the meaning of this?” Jake's eyes searched the dim light of the room, and he spied a streak of golden hair in the far corner. Jake moved forward but the black man held his arm, the power of his grip stopping Jake. “Let go.”