Jungle of Deceit (8 page)

“
Hasslet?”

Nicholson. The last time he heard the man’s voice, Mitch was barely coherent. His jaw had been throbbing and he benefited from the bucket of ice nestled in the back seat of that limo. In those brief moments he had been cajoled and manipulated, but now his head was clear and his blood pressure was topping the scale.

“
This is not what I signed up for.” Mitch started in, making sure that Alex was still occupied on the other side of the market. “You said I was to integrate myself with Dr. Langley’s outfit. You never let on that it was a woman. Do you know what’s going on down here?” he continued before the intake of breath on the other end could form into words. “Who the hell am I kidding? You know exactly what’s going on. You know what’s in that compound we stumbled on. You don’t need me to identify the people involved in the heist. What
do
you need me for? Why the hell did you send me down here? I don’t like being a pawn. I don’t like it at all.”

Alex glanced at him over her shoulder as if she sensed his agitation, but the distance combined with the sounds from the town square precluded her from the conversation. Mitch was confident enough to continue.

“
You implied I was looking for Franklin Langley. You never said anything about it being his
daughter
. She’s in danger here. You need to get her out. Yank the grant. Do whatever you have to.”

“
Are you through?” Nicholson cut in with composure.

“
Not by a long shot.”

“
I
suspect
the compound that you stumbled upon in that jungle is the ultimate destination for my hijacked artifacts.” Nicholson explained.

“
Wow, going out on a limb there.”

“
But I can’t prove that now until a visual is made on any of my pieces, which I had uploaded to your SMC card. Or—” In the background a man interrupted the conversation but Nicholson could be heard angrily dismissing him. “−or until you identify someone as having been on that dock in Newark.”

“
And then what?” Mitch fired. “So I identify someone? You already knew your shipment was coming here. There was no
tracking
as you had me believe, was there, Phillip? You knew from the second those helicopters left the dock where the artifacts were bound for. So why the hell go through this whole damn ruse?” Mitch turned around to face the wall and added, “Why did you send me here? Who the hell are you?”

There was a long delay, to the point that Mitch thought he’d lost the connection. Over the shout of men herding chickens in the courtyard, he heard Nicholson sigh.

“
Look…” Nicholson’s voice was resigned, and much softer as Mitch pushed the receiver tight against his ear, thinking he might catch some godforsaken jungle disease from the previous clients of this device.

“
Yes, I had a good idea where the stolen shipment was heading. And it’s a delicate matter that can’t be handled by the authorities. I needed you to confirm my suspicions. To tell me for sure that the compound you speak of is occupied by the men only you have made a visual contact with. I needed
you
because I know the episodes you’ve dealt with in your career, and that combined with your interaction with these guerillas, you were my best bet to accomplish two things.”

Nonplussed, Mitch prompted, “Which are?”

“
Identify my shipment…and get Alex out of there.”

“
Excuse me?” he coughed and leaned in closer to the wall mount. “As of twenty-four hours ago, I had never heard of you. I had never heard of Alexandra Langley. And you had never heard of me, although I’m beginning to doubt that fact. What’s with all the manipulation, Phillip? I want out of this.”

Mitch sliced a look into the market to make sure he was alone and then hunched over the mouthpiece. “You knew what buttons to push with me. How could you have possibly known about Kosovo? You show up on that tarmac, escort me into the back seat, and start dropping the litany of my career. The events of Kosovo won’t come up on a wiki search. How could you have obtained that knowledge in the back seat of a limousine?” Incensed now, Mitch shot out, “You preyed on my lack of clarity on that dock. Hell, I was still seeing three of everything. I was not lucid.”

“
You were lucid enough to get on the plane the next morning,” Nicholson countered in a deep voice. “Don’t be sanctimonious now. You are there because you want redemption. You want my power to reinstate you. So let’s just cut with all this bullshit, Mr. Hasslet and move on to the matter at hand.”

Mitch’s hand curled into a fist and he rested it atop the phone’s wall mount. “You didn’t answer one damn question. So let’s cut with all this bullshit,
Mr.
Nicholson. What is in that compound?”

“
You won’t believe this, but I don’t know. I
suspect
my artifacts are there−but why or how remains a mystery. I first learned about that complex when an archeologist in the area reported seeing it, and then he disappeared.”

“
So cryptic, Phillip.” Mitch chastised with barely contained ire. “You knew this and you let her group come down here.”

“
I can’t control Alex. I try—for her best interest, but that’s all I can do. She was forty miles away last I checked. She gave me her charts and I honestly thought she was branching away from that area, not towards it. I even tried to suggest a different location, fabricating some information to get her out of the area. I just found out today that she moved the camp.”

“
You
fabricated
information. Wow, it’s good to know I’m not the only one you manipulated.”

“
There is no time to haggle over details right now. It is what it is. And when you return and collect what will most likely be a substantial check from HAA, accompanied by a referral that will name any job you want, we can sit back in my office over a couple of glasses of whiskey and hash out all the details. Right now your best bet for answers and an expeditious resolve is to find the exact location of my shipment and get Alexandra safely out of there.”

“
Why not the authorities?” Mitch asked.

“
Authorities are the last people that can be trusted. The absolute last.”

The finality to that statement was the only bit of truth Mitch walked away with from the conversation. He honestly believed Nicholson’s lack of trust in the law−but after that he did not believe a damn word.

“
I didn’t know a discussion on photography could last so long.” Alex interrupted.

Mitch jerked around. Alex stood with several bags hanging from her fingertips.

“
Yeah, well when you’re getting your ass reamed for not having anything, the conversation gets defensive, right Phillip?”

“
Put her back on the phone,” Nicholson ordered in a hushed tone. “And don’t you say a word about this conversation. For as little as you trust me, Alex trusts no one. You’re on your own now. Use your own judgment. Get back to this phone as soon as you can and I’ll do everything possible to get you both out of that jungle.”

Mitch arched an eyebrow. “You do that. Here’s Alex.” He handed over the phone.

***

“
You didn’t sound very pleased from what I could tell.” Alex mentioned the moment they were outside and began the hike back to the Jeep.

“
I’m not. You think I was whining on the phone with Nicholson? No, I told him that I felt we were in danger here. But hey, what would my opinion count for? I’m just a guy with a camera.”

“
No need for the attitude, Mitch. I already agreed with you. When we get back to camp, we’re taking it down and moving on.”

They were out of sight from the town square, and the jeep was just a little way up the road. Alex was startled when Mitch grabbed her arm and pulled her to a halt, facing him. He reached up with his other hand so that now he was cupping both her arms and looking at her with such intensity her breath hitched.

“
What?” she whispered, afraid.

“
I−”

His eyebrows knitted, and she thought he seemed in pain as he struggled to say what was on his mind.

“
I’m worried about you.”

She was ready to berate such nonsense, but the anguish in his eyes made her hesitate. He was sincere.

“
Why?”

She felt him squeeze her upper arms.

“
You’d just laugh at me.”

“
No. Why, Mitch?”

His hands fell, but his eyes stayed locked on hers.

“
Maybe I’m starting to feel a little something for you, Alex. Maybe I just want to know you’re going to be safe.”

Her first instinct was to laugh, but that was a defensive reaction. Her second instinct was to remind him that he was not going to get into her pants, but that too seemed an overreaction. In reality, his declaration made her stomach lurch.

“
I don’t understand,” she frowned.

Mitch chuckled and rounded the jeep, his hand on the door. “I’ll explain it in detail later.”

“
F−fine.”

Still frowning, Alex climbed into the driver seat. She turned ready to pursue the topic, but the moment was gone. Mitch was focused on the jungle as if he anticipated an ambush. That keen deliberation was contagious. She tapped the gas and silently encouraged the vehicle to go faster.

She could smell it before she saw it. Traveling through a tunnel of vegetation, they should have been swathed in the jungle’s humid perfume. The strong scent of bromeliads should have clashed with the tang of mud and monkey excrement.

Beside her, Mitch was quiet. She could tell that he had not noticed the alteration in the dank air. Only she sensed it. She and that flock of toucans that just took flight, their vibrant colors lost in the clash of sunlight leaking through the trees.

Smoke.

Alex’s fingers wrapped tight around the steering wheel as she drew in another deep breath and lifted her face to calculate the path of the wind.

“
What?” Mitch was looking at her now.

“
What?”

“
What is it? And don’t give me that
nothing
crap. You are up to forty-five, which is about ten miles past the limits of this piece of crap.”

She ignored him. The smell was more pervasive now−as was their proximity to the camp.

“
Go.” Mitch commanded.

His voice was lost beyond the sound of the Jeep’s tires slapping into muddy ruts, but she saw him lean forward. He had smelled it too.

“
Alex−” he grabbed the top of the windshield frame, “−slow down.”

“
Slow down?” She sounded borderline hysterical. “You just told me to go—” Her foot fell off the gas pedal and the air fled her lungs.

They emerged into the clearing. The camp was set up five hundred yards away, hugging the forest edge for a respite from the sun. Out of that low canopy of trees, smoke poured in a black cloud, spouting the acrid scent of menace. Even now Alex caught the tell-tale shimmer of heat above the treetops, an indication that the unseen flames would soon reach oxygen and propel out of control.

“
No
,” she whispered.

“
Come on.” Mitch was around the front of the Jeep and at her side. He had both her shoulders and was looking right at her, speaking, yet she could neither see nor hear him. Her eyes stung and the only sound she could perceive was that distinct crackling, the staccato of tree limbs collapsing. She also heard a chorus of men—her men. Each urgent peal was like a dagger to her heart.

“
The wind is coming from the east right now. If we move everyone out to the south before it shifts, they’re all going to be fine
.”

Mitch’s lips were moving. She blinked and tried to read them.

“
South,” he shouted, and this time she heard.

Of course. South.

Just before they reached the clearing she noted the course of the wind. The fire was a fast and savage animal. Even now the smoke caused her eyes to well, and that crackling, that invasive crackling made her want to claw at her ears. The avenue to enter this field was the only roadway—rutted path that it was, and it was in the fire’s immediate route. The forest curved. Soon the north and west would be inaccessible as well.

She nodded because her throat failed her. Mitch moved in close to place his mouth by her ear. “We’ll get them all out of here, Alex. Do you hear me? Look, they’ve already packed the Jeeps. They’re ready. Let’s move.”

What was wrong with her? Why was she paralyzed? She never failed in the face of crisis. She was the rock. Even now she caught a glimpse of a young, frantic face watching her−one of her students seemingly afraid to take a step until she gave the command. It was Zachary Selmon, a grad student from the University of Miami. He and his friend, Tim Gundy joined her field research team, but Tim was the gregarious one while Zachary was the reticent half of the tandem. Behind Zach’s silhouette she could see Tim jogging with gear tucked under his arm towards a parked Jeep.

Her throat croaked out a warning that would never be heard over the excessive crackling. Flames licked the rim of the field and used brushwood and decaying grass to boost their impetus. Emboldened, the smoldering leviathan crept from the tree line to advance on the parked Jeep. The fiery python slithered a decisive track, reaching the rear end of the Jeep just as Tim started towards them.