River of Desire: A Romantic Action Adventure/Thriller (20 page)

Gabriel reached around him to clasp Vicente’s arm. “Cut the engine,” Gabriel shouted over the roar.

“
Why?”  Vicente asked.

“
I thought I heard something.”

Vicente switched the throttle off and the rumble quieted. He cocked an ear to the river. “I don’t hear a thing, but I won’t start the engine until clear of this place.
Comprende
?”

Gabriel nodded. “I’d hate to bump into anymore unexpected visitors. It’s terrible to have to end someone’s vacation with a gunshot to the head.” 

“
Si
. It’s a shame about the other
turista
, but we could not let him report our whereabouts to the authorities.” Vicente grinned at Dylan. “Don’t worry, g
ringo.
You’re going to be in too much trouble of your own to rat on us. No one will listen to a g
ringo
known to sell biological weapons to the
terrucos
.” He spat out these last words.

That’s the least of my worries right now. My main worry is getting the vial of vaccine to Leah in time.
Again, Dylan thought about Leah. He had been away much longer than he anticipated. All he could do now was hope she was still healthy, and find a way out of his predicament. His helplessness frustrated him. The pain in his shoulder paled in comparison to the ache in his heart. 

The boat drifted past palm-lined beaches with just a hint of sand. A couple of toucans called from the canopy above. Rainbow feathers and enormous yellow beaks contrasted against clear azure sky. Tree ferns and Rhododendrons intermingled with banana and coconut palms. The natural peace of the river, with its steady flow, played backdrop to Dylan’s unnatural ordeal.

According to the sun, they were moving north on the Amazon, taking him farther away from Leah with each passing minute. Where the hell where they headed, he wondered. Gabriel poked him in the ribs with the paddle handle and Dylan jerked away.

The soldier laughed. “Just want to make sure you’re still alive, gr
ingo
.”

The sudden awakening shocked Dylan into a realization of just how disoriented he had been. He better find a way out of this mess before he was unable to act at all.

The boat brushed thick reeds along the river’s edge, and each jolt added to Dylan’s anguish. Occasionally, a frog croaked and sprung away from them as they passed through the jungle undergrowth. Swarms of storks periodically flew overhead. Flies buzzed around Dylan’s face and the smell of decaying plants muddled his mind. What appeared to be a normal day on the river was anything but.

His misery multiplied by the minute. He had obviously strained against the restraints without realizing it, until the rub of steel had chaffed his skin raw. His shoulder tormented him and his head swam. It became more and more difficult to put two rational thoughts together. 

Through binoculars, Vicente scanned the shore. “The coast looks clear.” He grabbed his loudly growling gut. “Let’s break for lunch.” Steering the boat to shore, he yanked it aground. “Grab the provisions.”

“
What do we do with the g
ringo
?” Gabriel asked.

“
Leave him on board. Why bother to move him?”

Gabriel followed Vicente out of the boat with a cooler from the stern. He came back for a crate and grounded it to a spot in the middle of a treeless beach. There he spread a blanket and emptied the contents of the crate onto it. The sight of food made Dylan’s stomach churn.

Vicente lowered himself to the blanket, grasped a slab of jerky and jawed on it. “I’m famished.”

“
Me too,” Gabriel said between chomps on an apple. He lowered himself onto his side, cocked his elbow and held up his head with his hand. “Good to take a nice, long, relaxing
siesta
.” He took another bite of the fruit, closed his eyes and chewed.  

Vicente hunkered down at the edge of the blanket with a banana and peeled back the skin. “We’ve worked hard. We deserve a break.”

“We sure do.” Gabriel hummed a few bars of a popular South American tune, smiling to himself. He looked like he was about to doze off when he suddenly startled, jumped to his feet and pointed frantically over Vicente’s head.

“
There! Over there! I heard something move.”

* * *

Leah scrutinized the underside of her arm and her torso for evidence of smallpox. Days had slipped by with the relentlessness of sand through an hourglass, and still no sign of Dylan. She was beyond worried—she was nearly frantic.

The idea that a misfortune had befallen Dylan, that he would never return, seemed more possible with every passing hour. She had difficulty not dwelling on the many horrifying possibilities. She tried to shake the image of him suffering with a spear in his side, half-eaten by a ferocious animal, or stranded on a deserted beach, but these mental pictures kept resurfacing to twist her stomach into knots.

And that only intensified her own dilemma. She didn’t have much time left. She would soon have to decide where else to turn, if it wasn’t already too late.

A knock at her door distracted her. She opened it to Kruger.

“I vant you should hear more of my life.” He motioned with his hand, beckoning her to come with him. “There are matters most challenging to discuss.”

“
I’m not sure I’m up for it right now.”

“
Vhat stops you,
mein kinder
?”

“
I’m so worried about Dylan.”

“
Ah, your young man.” He bobbed his head in understanding. “The distance upriver to Von Schotten’s is great. Rest assured, it is too soon to vorry.”

Even his reassuring tone did not put her at ease. She took a deep breath to calm herself.

“Vork should keep your mind off of vorries.” 

He might be right because, sitting around wasn’t doing her any good. “All right.” She trailed him down the hall to the study and took a seat. “When we stopped you were saying-?”

“
Ja
. So many years pass. My memory is perfect no longer. I my best vill do.”

She drew the pad from her briefcase and placed the case on the floor beside her. She was aware of Wagner’s
Tristan and Isolde
playing in the background. The smell of baking strudel was coming from the kitchen. “That’s understood.”

He leaned on his chair, his wavy silver hair shimmering in the light of the desk lamp. He looked as benevolent as the long-suffering saint in the peeling painting behind his desk. Was she becoming soft on the miserable old Nazi? She hoped not. She didn’t want to give him too much slack. Not after the atrocities he must have committed.

“As I said, I researched into causes of Tay-Sachs disease in Berlin at time little about it vas known. I became local authority on Tay-Sachs. Vord about my research traveled to Joseph Mengele at Auschwitz. Bueler had already to join him at Auschwitz and had told him marvelous things about me.”

The old man squeezed the bridge of his nose, half-closing his eyes. “As you may know, Mengele’s specialty vas genetic disorders, especially those found in Jews. His interest in Jewish disorders meant to support Nazi theory of racial inferiority. Vhen Bueler told Mengele vhat I vas doing, Mengele vas intrigued.”

She scribbled down notes. “Go on.”

“
Mengele contacted me, but I told him I had other commitments. I had no vant to join him. Sophie, of course, vas fearful. Being Jewish, she had lost job and had to stay out of sight. She opposed my involvement vith ‘those bastards,’ as she called officials of the Third Reich, especially the SS, to vhich Mengele belonged.”

He rose and paced. “The Jews vere not only harassed and discriminated against, they vere beginning to be taken away to resettlement camps. No one spoke of it, but many suspected vhat vas going on.” He paused to take a long audible intake of air. “Even though Jews are often portrayed as ignorant about Hitler’s plans until too late, it is not so. Unfortunately for them, they held onto idea rational people to their aid vould come and stop Hitler. Vhen they realized this vas not to pass, it vas already late.

“I vas most firm about not participating in Mengele’s research. At first, he acted cordial and offered me many kind incentives to take position. Vhen I held out, he started threatening and said, if to join him I refused, I vould be sorry. I thought he bluffed.”

Kruger dragged himself across the room. Misery drew deep lines around his mouth.

Watching his suffering made her more sympathetic toward him than she thought possible. “I hope so.”

He stopped in front of her. His whole body quivered. “A bluff it vas not.”

Chapter Fifteen

Dylan watched Vicente spring to his feet, while scanning the tree line.

“What is it?” he asked Vicente.

“
Something moved in those trees.” Gabriel poked the air over Vicente’s head. “There.”

Vicente’s attention followed Gabriel’s finger. “Are you loco? There’s nothing in those trees. Perhaps it was just a bird or a monkey. Relax,
hombre
.”

“
I swear I saw movement.” Gabriel anxiously peered about. “
Por Dios
, I can’t wait to be back in the city. I would even welcome a trip to Iquitos after all this. I want out of here.”

Dylan heard the rustle in the trees about the same time Vicente reached for his rifle. With as much strength as he could muster, Dylan strained at the handcuffs to no avail. He didn’t want to be a captive audience or an easy target.

“There. You must have seen that,” Gabriel shouted.

Vicente grabbed Gabriel’s arm. “
!Dios Mio!
Get down. I heard it, too.” He pulled Gabriel to his knees.

Vicente raised his rifle and gestured. “You take that direction and I will check things out over there.”

Gabriel began to move in one direction, Vicente the other.

They hadn’t gone more than six feet when three natives stepped from behind bushes wearing nothing but the lines streaked across their faces, parrot feathers through holes in their earlobes, and a sheaf of darts strapped to their backs. All three pointed dart guns at the Peruvian soldiers. Dylan had never encountered these natives before. They had to be members of one of the Amazon’s lost tribes.

Vicente raised his rifle higher, but the natives fired before he did, hitting him in the throat and the gut. Blood gushing from his neck indicated a direct arterial hit. A high pitched scream escaped his lips. He dropped his rifle and clasped his throat. Blood poured down his shirt and stained the sand beneath his feet a scarlet red. He crumbled to his knees and fell face forward.

Gabriel turned toward him with a horrified expression and, as he did, a dart embedded itself into his side. He staggered, mouth open in a silent scream.

A surge of adrenaline gave Dylan a clarity he had not had in hours. With this renewed awareness, he thrust one leg overboard and pushed the boat away from the river’s edge. With all his remaining strength, he shoved the boat into deep water, then hunkered down between two seats, praying he had not been seen. 

The boat drifted aimlessly in the stream. Dylan waited patiently, laying low. Finally, after a long silence, he lifted his head and looked shoreward. The beach was deserted except for the two soldiers, twisted in unnatural positions on the sand. He levered himself up onto a seat and used his right leg to silently paddle to shore. The effort to paddle with one leg winded him, and he had to stop intermittently for breaths, but pure determination kept him moving forward.    

At land’s edge, Dylan dug his heel into sand and struggled to beach the boat. When he had barely managed what normally would have been a routine maneuver, he clumsily plied his way out of the craft, allowing his good shoulder to help hoist him over the prow. He tumbled onto the beach, slid over to a tree and, with tremendous effort, pushed up against the bark to standing. 

The natives had obviously melted back into the jungle and left him alone with the two felled soldiers. He approached Vicente, dropped to his knees and placed two fingers over Vicente’s nostrils. The soldier was most certainly dead.

With his hands cuffed behind his back, he maneuvered around and awkwardly probed Vicente’s pockets for keys. When he came upon the cool metal, he hooked a finger through the brass ring and pulled them out. They fell to the ground with a clatter. He studied the set carefully until he saw one that looked like the kind of skeleton key used for handcuffs. With his right thumb and forefinger, he lifted the key and attempted to poke it into the opening on his left handcuff, but, because of the strange angle, it repeatedly slipped out of the designated slot. Frustrated and weak, he rested, sweat dribbling down his face, blinding him.    

With a deep, steadying breath, he tried again. By sliding the key close to the keyhole and slowly jockeying it in, the key finally snagged the edge of the opening and slid in. With the click of turning tumblers, he yelped. Left hand free, he easily emancipated his right. He massaged both wrists before rising.

He picked through Vicente’s other pocket in search of the vaccine, but came up empty-handed. An inspection of Gabriel’s pockets produced similar results. Returning to the boat, he hoisted Vicente’s backpack onto land and rifled through it.

A letter fell open onto the ground. He picked it up and read,
My darling Vicente
, before folding it and placing it back in the pack. To think someone loved the dead renegade soldier was too much to cope with at that moment.

Dylan carefully probed the backpack until the clink of glass against glass told him he had found the vials. He removed them one at a time to assure their integrity, then replaced them where they would be safer than in his shirt pocket.

Overjoyed that the vials were safe, he turned to Gabriel and tested his pulse. The man’s heart was still beating. If the situation were reversed and Dylan was the one lying on the beach, Gabriel would almost certainly leave him to die. But the situation wasn’t reversed and Dylan couldn’t do that. He hoisted the soldier up with his good arm and dragged him toward the boat, stopping frequently to take deep, fortifying breaths. The effort took longer than it should have and exhausted him, but he finally reached the craft. He lugged Gabriel to the side of the boat and draped him over the rim, then pushed the weighty solider inside before climbing in himself.

Only after attempting repeatedly to shove off with an oar did Dylan realize how incapacitated he really was. The difficulty he had plying the boat from shore alerted him to his deteriorating condition. He couldn’t rest. He had to keep going. He had to reach Leah while he was still breathing.

* * *

Leah gave Kruger a moment to compose himself before she pressed him for more. “When you wouldn’t join Mengele, what did he do?”

Kruger resumed his restless pacing. “No time they vasted. Two nights past my final discussion vith Mengele, Gestapo agents came to house of family.

“
They herded family into living room vhere they asked if I vould villingly join Mengele in research. Vhen I argued, to our heads they held guns.” His voice quavered. “The Gestapo agent closest to me— vith steely cold eyes— toward me leaned and asked if I vould join Mengele.

“
I, in all good conscience, told him I could not to do it vith other obligations. I vill never forget sneer vhich curled his lips. Kruger’s eyes had glazed over as though he was actually seeing the long-ago scene play out before his eyes. “So, he said, you cannot vork for our cause, but you date a Jewish girl. Vhat does that to say about your true allegiance.”  

Leah’s throat constricted. “Where did they learn about Sophie?”

“I can only guess Bueler told them. I betrayed had been by my closest friend. My heart hurt.”

“
What happened next?”

“
He threatened if I vas not to join Mengele I vould be exposed as traitor...and Sophie vould be arrested. I could never let that happen. It vould end her life.”

“
Was it Sophie you were worried about, or your own hide?”

Kruger steadied himself with a hand on the desk. “You cannot know. You cannot know. They threatened to shoot all family on the spot. All I could do vas stand humiliated and defeated vith gun at head.” Kruger steadied himself with a hand on the desk. “I agreed vith Menegele to share my work on Tay Saks and do as he vanted. The Commander vith cold eyes smiled at me, then turned to one of his men and nodded. The man raised his rifle and drove the bayonet into brother’s thigh.”

Leah covered her mouth with her hand.

“
You never heard such sound as that coming from brother. He released a howl like animal in trap and crumpled to the ground. Mother cried out and father tried from guard to break free, but they stopped him vith rifle butt to ribs. I vill never forget look in brother’s eyes. That look still haunts my dreams.”

“
How horrible! Why would they do that after you agreed to help them out?”

“
I ask Commander same question. He smiled at me vith same sickening, sneaky smile and said it vas to seal the deal. That I must never renege on my commitment to Mengele or each family member vould similar fate suffer...or vorse.”

He stopped and took a deep breath. His eyes looked haunted, hollow. “I signed papers to join Mengele at Auschwitz, vhich I did for three months, but because I excuses made to not participate in research, I vas soon sent to town hospital to practice medicine.”

“And Sophie?”

He stared at the ground. “I vas only to see Sophie one more time.”

Leah placed pad and pen on desk. “I’m so sorry.” Her words sounded silly and inadequate to address the obvious misery Kruger still bore, but she didn’t know what else to say. Her heart ached for him.

Kruger pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his tweed jacket and blew his nose. “You are not to blame.”

“But I’m truly sorry for what you’ve been through.” And she meant it.

Kruger walked back to his desk and sank heavily into his chair. He drooped a heavy head into his hands.

* * *

Dylan’s head reeled. He tried to focus on what he had to do, but objects had lost all shape, all size. Since he was heading downstream, most likely he was in Peru, but he could no longer concentrate long enough to determine his whereabouts. The normally oppressive heat had become hellish. Sweat soaked his shirt and ran in rivulets into his eyes and mouth.

Next to him, the fallen Peruvian soldier took shallow breaths. The only witness to Von Schotten’s scheme, Gabriel’s life held special significance, but, unless Dylan found the compound soon, the soldier would not survive the trip.

All Dylan could think about was making it back to Leah in time. He couldn’t accept the idea she might die without ever knowing what happened to him. That the past would repeat itself. That he would let down another person he loved. He struggled to ply an oar through water, but it barely broke the surface.

Waves of nausea doubled him. He pressed his arms against his clenching belly and inhaled deeply, but the putrid smell of sodden, stagnant air sickened him more.

He lay across the seat, too weak to hold himself erect. Pain radiated all along his left side and he could no longer discern where the pain began and where it ended.

A jolt shook the boat, sending a spasm through him. He gasped. The jungle closed in. Darkness overtook day. It might have been night, except that the sun was still high overhead.

All at once, he was back in Cuzco, sitting on a park bench in the plaza. Leah rested her head on his shoulder, the scent of roses emanated from her glistening skin. The brisk mountain air refreshed him, the aroma of fresh roasted mutton tempted him, an intense satisfaction filled him. Vendors strolled past with their baskets of wares. Pinks and yellows streaked the sky. Happiness was almost his, but when he reached for it, everything went black.

* * *

Leah lay alone in the darkened room, wanting desperately to make her way to the bathroom, but certain she’d be unable to find it. The generator had gone out in the middle of the night, leaving the entire house bathed in absolute blackness. She literally couldn’t see her fingers in front of her face. She had never been one to be afraid of the dark, but this dark was different. Deeper. More menacing. She imagined it to be like the inside of a coffin.

With that thought, she fingered the raised, swollen, fiery-looking bump on the backside of her knee. It had stung when her jeans brushed over its crusty surface the night before, but she had ignored it, hoping it was only an insect bite. She ran her fingers around it and a knot in her gut tightened, knowing it might very well be the first sign of smallpox.

Where was Dylan?
Her time was running out—she couldn’t wait for him much longer. What to do if he didn’t come back? Since Kruger no longer had her under lock and key, she could easily leave the compound, borrow a boat and motor to Iquitos. She might find a source for the vaccine there, whatever Kruger said. But what if Dylan returned with the vaccine while she was gone? And what if Kruger was right? Her head pounded with the dilemma.

She lay awake until the first streaks of dawn touched the eastern sky, then curled up on a chair, waiting until she heard sounds of life coming from the rest of the house. When she did, she left her room for the kitchen. On her way down the hall, she ran into Kruger.

He extended a shaky, half-spilled cup of tea in her direction. “I am pleased to see you,
mein kinder
. I could not figure out how to juggle cup and knock at door at same time.”

He appeared more confused by this simple task than she was over her situation.

“I thought a little lemon grass concoction might help to awaken you this morning. Sleep is hard vhen generator goes out.”