Leap - 02 (14 page)

28

Alison gripped the stainless steel railing, unable to decide if she was nervous or scared…probably both.  She looked to the port side of the boat at the sun peeking up over the line of the horizon, separating ocean from sky.  The water was like glass this early in the morning, making it the perfect departure time.

It was the day they had all been preparing for.  Alison looked down and watched Dirk and Sally leap excitedly through the calm water, just ahead of the boat’s surging bow.  They were as thrilled as she was and were leading their human friends out into the waters of the Caribbean.

It was a dream come true for any marine researcher but especially for Alison.  Not just to observe, but to communicate and
participate
within the natural world of another species.  To experience what they experienced, and to see the world from their eyes was more than she could ever have imagined.  Now it was happening.  At that moment, she realized it wasn’t nervousness or fear.  It was an unbridled excitement which she had never felt before: the point where dreams and miracles met.

Behind Alison, Kelly Carlson sat in the skipper’s seat, looking out over the top of the cabin and scanning the ocean.  She wore a tan baseball cap and a long, loose-fitting white T-shirt.  Kelly leaned forward and reduced the throttle to match Dirk and Sally’s pace.

Inside, down in the forward starboard hull, Chris stood behind Lee, who was running through yet more system checks on the servers.  The sound on the graphs was spiking up and down along the top, much higher than normal.  It was the underwater microphone picking up the noise from the boat’s 267 horsepower John Deere diesel engine as they motored forward. 

Lee glanced up and over his shoulder at Chris.  “Here goes.”  He typed a command that activated a new algorithm designed to identify the signature of the engine and eliminate it.  The large spike was immediately highlighted and disappeared from the graph, displaying a more normalized baseline.

“So this will allow us to hear the dolphins but not the other way around?”

“Right,” Lee nodded.  “We’re receiving sound from the microphone, which is a lot easier to work with than what we’d be sending out through the speakers.  This should allow us to hear them while running the engines in case they need to tell us something.”

“Nice.  Everything else look okay?”

“So far, so good.”  He glanced at the servers, now strapped to the floor near his feet.  It was another benefit of the catamaran design.  The amount of heeling or leaning was negligible, reducing the chance of the servers being tipped, even in rougher seas.

“Well, if you don’t need me,” said Chris, “I’m gonna head up top.”

“Sure, go ahead.  I’ll be up in a little while after I’ve checked a few more things.”

With a nod and a pat on Lee’s shoulder, Chris stepped through the narrow oval doorway and climbed the half dozen steps into the salon.  After stepping out in the warm breeze, he spotted Alison at the bow and trailed along the lifelines to join her.  Looking past her, he could see Dirk and Sally swimming effortlessly out in front.

“Everything okay?”

Alison inhaled deeply and smiled.  “Couldn’t be better.”

“Anything more from DeeAnn?”

She glanced at her watch.  “Not yet.  Not for a few more hours.”

DeeAnn had phoned late the night before, letting Alison and the team know they landed safely.  They had arrived at Alves’ preserve just after nine o’clock.  All told, it was a successful trip, and Dulce seemed to be doing well. 

Alison couldn’t hide her enthusiasm.  Even though it was still early, everything was progressing according to plan.  She crossed her fingers and hoped their good luck would continue.

DeeAnn awoke early and turned over, examining the room.  The walls were a soft white, reflecting the early morning sun.  The room was decorated in a stylish, natural theme.  She spotted some beautiful orange flowers on her dresser and wondered what they were called.  Finally, she rolled to the side of the bed and stood up.  She dressed and picked up the new, thicker vest, before unplugging it from the wall.

She planned to give Dulce some time that day to acclimate before starting the search.  DeeAnn was worried at the possibility of pushing Dulce too hard.  Gorillas were introverted creatures, and the last thing she needed was Dulce becoming overly excited.  Behaviorally speaking, it was a very small step from excited to frantic.

Alves had given DeeAnn the closest room to the fenced area downstairs, just seconds away.  Descending the stairs quietly, she pushed the exterior door open gently to look for Dulce.

The fenced area was larger than it appeared the night before.  It measured at least three hundred by another hundred and fifty yards.  She spotted the black fur of Dulce’s back hunched over in a nearby corner.  DeeAnn watched as Dulce plucked a handful of flowers and sniffed at them, apparently unable to decide if they were edible.

Dulce turned when she heard the metal gate open behind her.  She dropped the new handful of flowers and ran excitedly through the tall grass to DeeAnn.

You here, you here.

DeeAnn opened her arms just in time for Dulce to leap into them.  At the last second, DeeAnn remembered the vest and cringed as Dulce’s body landed with a thud against it.  She promptly lowered Dulce to the ground.  “Sensitive,” she replied, tapping the vest.  “We have to be careful.”

Dulce gave her a toothy grin. 
Okay.  I careful.
  She grabbed DeeAnn’s hand and pulled her forward. 
Come.  New flowers.  Pretty.

Less than an hour later and after watching Dulce examine much of her new play area, the metal gate squeaked again and Juan Diaz stepped through into the fenced area.  He tromped over the tall grass and met them with a smile.

“Morning, Dee.”

“Good morning, Juan.”

Juan watched as Dulce climbed up a small tree to its lowest branch.  “How is she?”

DeeAnn began to speak but caught herself.  She glanced down at the vest.  “Where’s the mute button?”

“We didn’t have time to put one in.”

DeeAnn nodded and instead placed her finger firmly over the small microphone.  She also turned the vest away from Dulce just in case.  “She’s doing all right.  She’s showing some mild signs of anxiety.”  She motioned to the area around them.  “But out here with us, she seems a little better.”

“Yeah, I could see her starting to get a little upset on the plane.”

“Right.  Gorillas are introverted so what we see on the outside is only the tip of the iceberg.  Unfortunately, when they hit their breaking point, we don’t get much warning.”

Juan noticed DeeAnn’s attention shift and he turned to see where she was looking.  Mateus Alves was approaching from the large building.  Walking through the grass was difficult, even with his cane.  A second man was with him, tall and broad, dressed in matching khaki shorts and shirt.  DeeAnn and Juan left Dulce playing on the tree while they met the men at the fence.

“Mr. Alves.”

“Greetings, Ms. Draper.  Mr. Diaz.  I hope you both slept well.”  He turned to the man standing just behind him.  “I’d like to introduce our head of security, Miguel Blanco.  He helps keep things running when I’m away.”

DeeAnn smiled politely.  “Pleased to meet you.”

“Hi,” Juan added.

“Good morning.”  Blanco gave them a slight nod.  With dark, hawkish eyes and a deep tan, he looked like a seasoned soldier out of uniform.

Alves looked past DeeAnn.  “And how is Dulce faring this morning?”

“So far, so good.”  She decided to keep the nuances about Dulce’s behavior just between her and Juan.

“Wonderful.  Shall we bring some food out?”

“Please.  Otherwise, she’s probably going to eat all of your flowers.”

Alves laughed.  “She’s welcome to eat whatever she likes.  Though I’m not sure everything would be to her liking.  I must admit I’m not well educated on the differences in flora between our two continents.  I’ll have food brought out right away.  As for the rest of the animals,” he said, waving his arm, “we lost many during the vandalism.”  He motioned up the hill, past the nearby fences.  “The rest of the preserve is wild and to where most of our remaining animals escaped.  I’m afraid it will take some time to find them.”

“I’m guessing that’s where our capuchin monkey is?”

“Yes, we believe so.”

DeeAnn nodded, still staring up the hill.  She couldn’t tell what was the preserve and what was…well,
Brazil
.  It was all mountain and jungle as far as she could see.  She felt her heart sink at the sheer expanse before them.  She was finally faced with the thought she’d been avoiding this entire time. 
How on earth were they supposed to find a monkey in all of this?

  DeeAnn took a deep breath.  There was another topic she was dreading, one she couldn’t put off any longer either.  She turned to Juan and began unfastening the buckles on the vest.  “Juan, would you mind looking after Dulce for a bit?”

“Sure, Dee.”

DeeAnn looked at Alves.  “Mr. Alves, can you show me Luke’s room?”

Miguel Blanco unlocked the door and pushed it open.  He then stepped out of the way to allow DeeAnn in.

When Blanco turned on the light behind her, DeeAnn gasped.

Alves stepped in from the hallway and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Ms. Draper.  We had to leave things as they were the night of the attack, for investigation purposes.” 

DeeAnn nodded absently and scanned the room.  Several things were turned over or broken and in some cases, both.  Clothes were pulled from a small dresser, strewn across the floor.  A large desk in the corner had been overturned.

“My God,” she whispered, “what happened?”  She turned to Alves and Blanco.  “Were they looking for something?”

Alves shrugged.  “It appears so.  Though I’m afraid we don’t know what.  We weren’t exactly working on anything secretive.”

DeeAnn stepped over a broken lamp, suddenly afraid at the possibility of seeing blood.  To her relief, there was none.

Alves spoke softly over her shoulder.  “Footsteps outside suggest Luke made it out before disappearing.  We believe he was picked up and carried from there.  Everything we’ve learned seems to suggest it was a raid of vandalism, designed to ruin the preserve.  Several systems, including the main air-conditioning system, were destroyed.”

“Why would they want to ruin your preserve?”

Alves shook his head.  “I don’t know, Ms. Draper.  As I said, I have many enemies who would love to see my businesses fail, but the preserve is different.  It is the one thing I’ve done truly for the people of our country: for all the people of South America.”

“Could Luke have seen something?  Something he wasn’t supposed to?”

“It’s possible.  If he recognized someone, it might explain why they would take him.”

Would it?
  DeeAnn thought to herself. 
Would it really explain anything?
  She wanted desperately to believe Luke was still alive, but she was an analytical person. She couldn’t help asking the obvious question in her head.  If Luke had seen something he wasn’t supposed to, why didn’t they simply kill him?  Her only explanation was that he didn’t
see
something…instead, he probably
knew
something.

She stared at the items on the floor for a long time before turning back around to face her hosts.  “And we’re hoping to find this monkey Luke was working with…for what, exactly?”

“Anything,” Blanco answered, in a deep voice.  “Whoever did this covered their tracks well.  We’re hoping the capuchin can give us a clue as to who it was.  A uniform, an insignia, anything.  We have a number of pictures we can show him.  We’re hoping he can pick something out.  At this point, it’s the only option we have left.”

DeeAnn shook her head.  This was feeling more impossible by the minute.  She stopped when she spotted a picture frame lying face down on the floor.  She reached down to pick it up and turned it over.  The photo hit her immediately.  It was a picture of her and Luke, many years earlier, on the beach standing knee-high in the water.  They were both laughing.

Tears began to well up in her eyes.  She blinked hard, chasing them away.  With a quick wipe from the back of her hand, DeeAnn looked back at Alves and Blanco.  “So do you have any video or audio footage of this monkey Dexter?”

29

Chris found Alison, standing once again on the bow.  She was eating a sandwich and watching the water as the boat drifted in place.  The gentle swells of late afternoon sun reflected brightly off the water.  Dirk and Sally had left to hunt for food, leaving them all with some down time.

“Ali!”  Chris walked forward, keeping close to the stanchions.

She turned to see him approaching with the satellite phone in his hand.  “Who is it?”

Chris smiled.  “Guess.”

She held it to her ear and answered.  “Hello?”

“Hello, beautiful.”

Alison grinned.  “Well, hi there.”

“How are things going?  I presume you’re at sea since your cell phone didn’t pick up.”

“We sure are.  We’re over seventy miles out already, almost within sight of St. Kitts.  And you’re very sweet for remembering.  What are you up to?”

Clay looked at Caesare, who was downing a piece of pizza.  “Just watching Steve eat,” he joked.  In reality they were less than a mile from the abandoned building they’d spent much of the night atop and were about to head back to it.

“You poor thing,” Alison teased.  She had seen Caesare’s voracious appetite in action.

“Everything going all right?”

“Yes!  Dirk and Sally are out finding dinner, and Kelly is taking a nap, getting ready for the first watch.  It sounds like we’ll be there tomorrow.”

“I bet you’re busting with excitement.”

“I am.”  She turned back out toward the water.  “I really am.  It’s more than I could have ever hoped for, John.”  She paused.  “I kinda wish you were here with me.”

“So do I.”  His baritone voice said through the speaker.  “It’s just bad timing, I’m afraid.”

“I know.  I’m not mad.  I just…”  She struggled for a moment and decided to change the subject.  “Wait, I haven’t told you about DeeAnn!”

“Told me what?”

Alison spent the next ten minutes telling Clay about the visit from Alves and his assistant, the news about DeeAnn’s friend, and her decision to take Dulce back with them.  When she was finished, Clay remained quiet, thinking.

“What’s the guy’s name again?”

“Mateus Alves.  Have you heard of him?”

“Can’t say that I have, but that certainly doesn’t mean anything.”

“Lee and Juan both checked him out.  And considering their snooping skills, he looks pretty trustworthy.”

Clay was still thinking.  “Can Dulce really communicate with another primate species?”

Alison shrugged.  “We’re not sure, but DeeAnn seemed to think it was possible.  She said the way they communicate is very similar.  Honestly though, I think she would have gone either way.  I probably would have too.”

“Have you heard from her since she left?”  Clay was again looking at Caesare who had picked up on the topic of their conversation and was now listening intently.

“Yes.  She called last night.  They arrived safe and sound.  And the new vest seems to be working well.  With any luck, they’ll find something out about her friend quickly.”

“You don’t sound hopeful.”

Alison sighed.  She wanted to be hopeful, but all things considered, the odds were against them.  Even if Dulce could find and talk to the smaller monkey, she couldn’t imagine what he might tell them that would make a difference.  She wanted to believe DeeAnn’s friend was alive, but from the circumstances described by Alves, it sounded doubtful.  “You know me,” she told Clay.  “Prepare for the worst but hope for the best.”

Clay smiled on the other end.  “You’re very wise, Alison Shaw.”  He glanced at his watch.  “I should probably go.  Steve and I have some things to do before it gets too late.  Stay safe.  I’ll try to call you again soon.”

“Okay.  Thanks for calling.  You be safe too.”

“I will.”

Clay ended the call and powered off the phone, dropping it into a side pocket on his bag. 

Caesare was still watching with raised eyebrows.  “What’s up with Dulce and DeeAnn?”

“It appears they’ve gone on a trip.”

“Trip?  To where?”

Clay zipped the side pocket closed and slung the bag over his shoulder.  “Let’s head out.  I’ll fill you in on the way.”

Caesare nodded and picked up his own bag.  They had a relatively short window in which to reach their target before dark.  Once there, they would have to change back into their black fatigues and hightail it up the hill to get into position. 

Just as they had the night before, the loud trucks angled slowly down the narrow road toward the bottom of the mountain.  Even in first gear, the giant vehicles strained under their own weight, causing the transmissions to moan under protest.  The bright headlights of the Typhoons eventually passed over a section of dense jungle where Clay and Caesare were lying quietly on their stomachs, waiting.

Talking to Langford earlier, he impressed upon them that the brass needed to know what was in those trucks as soon as possible, which meant they were going to have to improvise, and fast.

As the first truck passed, Caesare remained motionless, propped up onto his elbows in an overlook position with an M4 carbine tucked tightly into his shoulder.  He pointed downhill into an open area, where he could give Clay emergency cover if needed. 

A little further uphill from Caesare, Clay was squatting, waiting.  The plan was simple, or at least as simple as they could come up with, given the time crunch.  Caesare was also a better shot and Clay a faster runner, which was why Caesare was the one providing cover.

When the last truck rumbled past, Clay immediately leapt from his position and scampered up a small embankment.  Within half a dozen steps, he was onto the road and in full sprint.  Clay tore down the steep hill, chasing the truck’s dark outline.  He stumbled over the uneven ground, almost losing his balance.  He recovered and quickened his pace, reaching out for the rear of the huge bouncing vehicle.

Clay’s hand was just inches from one of the back handles when the grade changed and the truck abruptly sped up.  He stumbled again and pushed harder.  His boot dropped into a small hole, slightly twisting his ankle and causing him to fall onto a knee, just as he seized one of the large stainless steel handles.  The ground raced beneath him, dragging Clay behind the truck as he managed to get another grip on the handle and lifted off both knees.  He pulled himself up, hand over hand, until only his feet were dragging.  Clay finally propped one, then both knees, up onto the bumper.

This new position was only slightly better than being drug, as the truck’s heavy bouncing smashed Clay’s knees against the hard metal.  With another heave, he got a foot under himself and stood up straight, pulling himself in against the black metal door.

Less than twenty yards behind him, Caesare watched and rolled his one open eye before looking back into the scope.  “What I wouldn’t give for a camera.”

Caesare kept the rifle trained on the truck as he watched Clay’s dark figure twist the heavy handle then quickly pull the door open.  With that, he disappeared inside and the door closed behind him.

In the darkness, Clay pulled a small light from a leg pocket and put it between his teeth.  He bit down on the rubber tip and the tiny LED light came on, casting a faint glow around the dark gray interior.  The mysterious crates were larger than he expected.  All were stacked in front of him, secured to the sides and floor with thick nylon straps.

Clay quickly grasped a strap and loosened one of the ratchets, providing enough slack to pull one of the crates free.  The truck’s transmission groaned again and caused the vehicle to lurch, throwing Clay forward.  He tumbled hard against the rest of the crates, then immediately stood back up and reached out for one.  Clay was quite mindful that each second inside was carrying him further from Caesare’s protection.

Inside the cab, the driver looked across the seat to the other soldier.  “Did you hear something?”

“Sounded like something fell over.”

The driver smashed his foot against the oversized pedal and the truck came to a grinding stop.  He pressed the emergency brake down with his other foot and placed his hand on the ball of the gearshift.  He motioned toward the back.  “Check it out.”

Further up the hill, Caesare let his second eye open briefly when he saw the brake lights come on, lighting up the area behind the truck in an eerie red glow.

“Get out, John,” he quietly mumbled.  A moment later, he heard the truck’s emergency brake engage.  “As in now!” 

Next, he saw the passenger door open.

The soldier dropped to the ground and slung his rifle over his shoulder.  Having a crate come loose and fall over wasn’t that unusual.  But they were given orders to investigate everything, no matter how small.  Considering their cargo, they were to take absolutely no chances.

The soldier stood behind the truck, bathed in the red light.  He pulled the rifle off his shoulder and tilted it toward the metal door.  With a finger lightly against the trigger, he reached up high with his left hand and twisted the handle.  In a burst of movement, he pulled the door open and leapt back, aiming his rifle inside.