African Ice (20 page)

Samantha handed the stone to him, knelt down and began sifting through the rabble that covered the ground. A minute later she held up a small rock, another diamond.

“This explains why there were never any alluvial stones found in the riverbeds on either side of the Ruwenzori,” she said. He looked confused and she elaborated. “As the diamonds eroded from the rock, very slowly because they were so well protected from wind and water, they fell to the ground and stayed exactly where they fell. There were no water currents to wash them downstream, no pools for them to sink into, no chance they would be discovered by a native washing her clothes. Unless you found the tunnel we used to get in here, you would never know this place existed.” She stopped and stooped down, pushing aside a tiny fern and lifting a small object from amidst the loose rocks. It was a time-worn, rusted geologist's hammer. She rubbed the metal head and squinted at the engraving on the side.

“It's hard to read, but I think it says DSC,” she said, handing it to him. He studied it for a minute, then nodded.

“It has more engraving on the other side,” he said, wiping the rust and moisture off. “AIPG—1994. What does that mean?”

“The AIPG is the American Institute of Professional Geologists,” she answered. “Whoever dropped this hammer was a professional geologist, and an American. I guess they got the hammer in 1994. Who knows?” She shrugged.

They both froze where they stood at a sudden distant sound—the rapid staccato of automatic gunfire. Travis motioned to her not to move, slipped his revolver from his belt and pushed through the vines into the tunnel. He removed the safety and kept the gun pointed ahead as he moved through the darkness. He reached the curtain of vines that covered the tunnel entrance and carefully pushed a few strands aside until he could see out. What he could see was not good.

Three of Mugumba's soldiers stood over one of the porters who had accompanied them through the jungle. The man lay on his side on the jungle floor, alive, but bleeding badly from a gash on his head. Beside him, a few feet away, lay two bodies contorted in death—the other two porters. McNeil watched in horror as one of the soldiers yelled at the still-alive man and continuously beat his head with a rifle butt. The language was indistinguishable, but the meaning was not. The soldiers wanted to know where McNeil and Samantha were. McNeil's mind raced as he tried to sort out what to do.

His line of vision was severely restricted by the size of the opening and the shrouding vines. There could be more soldiers nearby, and he wouldn't know what he was up against until he left the safety of the tunnel. Taking on three highly trained soldiers armed with automatic weapons while he was armed with only a revolver was risky, perhaps even stupid. If he was lucky enough to kill all three but more soldiers were nearby, he would be gunned down and Samantha's position compromised. He took a couple of deep breaths as he pondered the best course of action. A few moments later, the decision was made for him. The soldier smashing the porter's head suddenly turned the gun around, pointed it at the man's temple and pulled the trigger. His body jerked for a moment, then fell sideways to the ground, lifeless.

McNeil gripped his revolver tightly, his temples pounding with pressure as his blood coursed through his body. He knew the moment to act and save the man's life had passed, and only his professional training kept him from bursting out of the tunnel, gun blazing. He felt the pressure in his head subside as he remained motionless, watching the aftermath of the execution. He wanted desperately to avenge the three deaths, but instead waited and listened. A few minutes later, from the left of the tunnel opening, two more soldiers sauntered into his line of sight. He took a long deep breath, knowing that his decision to remain hidden had been the right one. Had he taken on the three soldiers he could see, he would have been cut down by the two he couldn't. It was a small consolation.

The soldiers eventually dragged the bodies a few yards into the jungle. Dusk was approaching, and they lit a fire and began preparing dinner. He backed away from the tunnel entrance, now reasonably sure that at least five of Mugumba's men were on the other side of the vines. He retraced his steps and found Samantha sitting on a narrow ledge, her back to the rock wall. She started as he appeared from the quickly darkening hole.

“What's going on?” she asked apprehensively.

“Five of Mugumba's soldiers are outside the entrance to the tunnel,” he said. She didn't ask, and he finally volunteered the bad news. “They killed the porters.”

Samantha's face went red with anger; she clenched her teeth and took a few deep breaths. “What do we do now?”

“We've got a couple of options. We can call in to the expedition and have them come to us. I think that's extremely dangerous. It'll just lead the remainder of Mugumba's force to our location.”

“He must have known the location, Travis,” Samantha countered. “How else do his men suddenly show up here? And a lot quicker than you expected. You said they would need at least two days, maybe three, to get this far north of the bridge.”

“You're right. The only explanation is that Mugumba has at least one helicopter at his disposal, perhaps more. The five guys camped out there must have been dropped fairly close by and then they hoofed it in from the drop zone. Shit. I suspected he'd have a chopper, but I was hoping not.”

“It also means that Mugumba knows almost exactly where this place is. To within a few hundred yards. He just can't find the tunnel.” Sam was quiet for a moment. “You said we had a couple of options. What's the other one?”

“Simple. I sneak out of here in the middle of the night and kill the five guys while they sleep.”

Samantha stared at him. “Get a grip, Travis. You may be good at what you do, but nobody is that good.”

“It's our only other option, Sam,” he said. “I'm not all that happy with it, but unless you can think of some other plan, it's the one we'll have to use.”

“We can wait it out. The rest of the expedition will come looking for us.”

“That would be
really
stupid,” he said, his voice matter-offact. “If they survive Mugumba's men moving up from the south, they'd run into these guys. And we can't warn them.”

“Why not? We've got one of the Panther units with us. Alain said they were untraceable.”

“Absolutely untraceable. But any energy surge is going to be detected. They won't be able to pinpoint where we are, but they'll know for sure we're here. Right now, they must suspect we're close by, but firing up one of these things would just confirm their suspicions. It's not a good idea.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching as the dusk turned into night and any residual light filtering from above disappeared. They sat in absolute darkness, only feet apart but completely invisible to each other. She knew he was right. Their only chance was for him to sneak out and try to eliminate the five while they slept. She also knew that the chances were good that Travis would die trying. And that she did not want. Finally, she reached out her hand in the blackness and grasped his.

“Do what you have to, Travis,” she said quietly. “But for God's sake, please come back.” She felt pressure on her fingers as he lightly squeezed. Then he was gone. She wiped away a tear that formed in the corner of her eye and briefly wondered why she'd chosen such a bizarre career. Most women, and men for that matter, lived normal lives. They had houses in the suburbs, jobs in the city, and kids in Little League. But not her. She had taken an interesting vocation and turned it into a daily struggle to survive. Crocodiles, snakes, bottomless gorges, angry pygmies, and now corrupt government soldiers. Christ, what a month. She rested her head against the billion-dollar rock wall and, surprisingly, slept.

Travis reached the tunnel opening and peered through. His eyes acclimatized to the absolute blackness, and the pale moon that shone above the rain-forest canopy lit up the jungle floor. The soldiers' fire was reduced to a smoldering heap of embers, and he kept his eyes from looking at the red glow and thus reducing his night vision. He slowly parted the vines and slipped from the opening to the root-covered ground at the base of the cliff. He crouched, heading away from the lightly glowing fire and into the jungle. He counted three bodies scattered around the fire, leaving two on sentry duty, somewhere nearby in the underbrush. He desperately hoped they were dozing.

He surveyed the layout, trying to think of where he would station his men. The west side was completely dominated by the mountainside. All other directions were covered by dense jungle. The only passable route into the location was from the south. And Mugumba must know that McNeil's team was camped to the south. Therefore, one man positioned south. He thought of where they had discovered the previous expedition's bodies, and made a guess that the second sentry would be west, covering that area in case he and Sam were to suddenly appear. He moved south, not a twig or a leaf moving in his wake. Twenty yards distant, he saw the first man, awake, but barely. His head kept nodding down, then jerking back up as he forced himself to stay conscious. Travis waited.

Half an hour later, the head stopped jerking back and the man's chin rested on his chest. Travis began to move, quietly but quickly. He covered the distance in less than a minute, his knife in his right hand. He came up behind the soldier, slipped his hand over the man's mouth and drove the knife into the back of his neck, severing the spinal cord. The body instantly went limp. He lowered the body to the forest floor and pulled his knife out. He cleaned the blade on a leaf and then moved back to the north and a bit west. The second man was much more difficult to find. He had fallen asleep and was prone on the ground. Travis almost stepped on his leg before he saw him. The tiny rustles Travis made did not wake the soldier. He took him out in the same fashion as the first sentry, then headed back toward the fire.

He neared the grouping of men, then froze. Only two of the three men remained bedded down and asleep. One of the soldiers was up and on the move. Travis felt the hairs on the nape of his neck rise and his senses go into overdrive. Every sound, every fluttering of a leaf could mark the presence of the missing soldier, and possibly a violent death. He crouched low, pondering whether to take out the two sleeping men or quietly scour the area for the third man. After a few minutes, he decided to do neither. The position he held, close to the waning fire, allowed him to keep the remaining two soldiers in sight, and he felt after this much time that his location had not been compromised by the missing man. Waiting and watching seemed the best course of action. He didn't have long to wait.

Five minutes later, the man reappeared. He showed no signs of alarm and Travis knew the two corpses had not been discovered. The soldier had probably needed to relieve himself. Travis settled back and waited to see what the man would do. His target poked a stick into the fire, stirring up the embers and effectively ruining his night vision. He kept his gaze averted until the gently licking flames had subsided and the area was once again dark. Then he moved.

His pupils remained tiny, affording him excellent vision even in the low light level of the forest. He moved silently to his left, circling the man until he faced the man's back. He crept forward, his knife comfortable in his grasp. He reached the soldier without alerting him, clamped his hand over the open mouth and cut left to right across the windpipe. A low gurgling sound emitted from the slit trachea and the dead man's feet made slight scuffling noises as he kicked out involuntarily. Then quiet again returned to the small clearing. He lowered the body to the ground and turned to the remaining two soldiers. And froze.

One of the men had awakened and was staring at him, stunned for a moment. Travis acted without hesitation, drawing his revolver from his belt and pumping two bullets into the man's face. He swiveled and rolled to his right at the same time. A loud explosion went off and a bullet cut through the air where he had stood milliseconds before, missing him by inches. He came out of the roll with his finger squeezing the trigger. The first shot missed the last man and for a second it appeared his adversary might get off a killing shot. But Travis's reaction time was a split second faster, and he managed to squeeze off a second round before his prey. This bullet did not miss. It hit the soldier in the neck, crushing his larynx and ripping through his spinal cord. The man went limp and crumpled.

Travis swore lightly at the noise. He had wanted to take out the men without resorting to gunfire, but that hadn't happened. He reloaded his revolver, checked to ensure the three were dead, and then returned to the tunnel and to Samantha. It was still pitch black, and he spoke to her as he exited the tunnel mouth, so she would know it was him and not one of Mugumba's men. She answered, relief evident in her voice.

“I don't know if more of Mugumba's troops are within earshot. I kind of doubt it,” he said as they sat beside each other in the blackness. “The only way those five guys arrived so quickly was by helicopter. The rest are probably slogging through the rain forest toward what they think is our camp. We should be okay. I was being overly cautious more than anything else, trying to keep the noise down.”

“I'm dead tired,” she said, yawning. The tension had evaporated over the time they talked, and she suddenly felt unable to stay awake. “Can we get some sleep?”

“Sure.” He smoothed out a few vines and palm fronds and then guided her to the makeshift bed. She lay down and was asleep within seconds. He listened to the rhythmic cadence of her breathing, enjoying the soft sound. He reached out and tenderly stroked her hair. Then he sat back and made himself a vow. He would keep this woman alive, no matter how tough things got. He would die to keep her alive. That surprised him. He had never thought that way of any other person. Ever.