Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) (35 page)

Any
victory you achieve here today will be short lived.

Acton, Laura and Reading were at a safe distance down the road when the
all clear on the machine gun nests had been announced and barely seconds later
gunfire had erupted, then an alarm. Instinct had Acton on his feet, sprinting
toward the battle, his Glock at the ready, spare body armor brought by Bravo
Team protecting much of his body.

As he
came around the bend, Laura and a cursing Reading a close distance behind him, he
saw the compound to the right, the Bravo Team advancing rapidly, Leather’s team
already in position around the pit. Acton noticed the rear of the breezeway
connected buildings wasn’t covered yet and decided to take up position near the
north side while the Bravo Team members swept around the south side toward the
rear.

“Kill
the prisoners!” somebody yelled in Spanish, running into the building next to him.

“Christ!”
he exclaimed, sprinting toward the door closest him. “They’re going to kill the
prisoners!”

Mitchell was almost deaf to his own screams, and when the
electricity was shut off, his body, every muscle and fiber tensed, suddenly
relaxed, the relief almost overwhelming, causing adrenaline to rush through his
system that set off a panic attack. As his eyes focused he saw shapes moving
around him, then suddenly a siren sounded. Footfalls faded into the distance
and as his eyes focused, he found he was alone, still strapped to his chair.

With the
jumper cables still attached to his nipples.

More
footfalls and his heart sank as he realized his torture was about to resume.
Several sets of the footfalls faded to the left, suggesting some of those
running had stopped in front of Jenny’s cell, then suddenly one man appeared in
front of him wearing a green army uniform, distinctly Hispanic features rather
than Chinese.

The man
raised his weapon to fire and Mitchell squeezed his eyes shut, yelling, “I love
you, Jenny!”

“Terrence!”

Shots
cracked in the hallway and he waited for the pain, but none came, instead all
he could hear were the screams from the next cell. He opened his eyes,
straining against the clasps holding him in place as he cried out for Jenny.
“You bastards! I’ll kill you all! I’ll kill you all!” he cried, hope drained
from him completely.

That was
when he noticed the soldier who was about to shoot him was lying in a heap on
the floor and Professor Acton was rushing by, his weapon raised, Special Agent
Reading right behind him.

Then a
sight almost as beautiful as his wife on their wedding day appeared in the
door, crying his name.

“Terrence!”

Professor
Laura Palmer rushed into his cell and dropped to her knees, surveying him
without touching, her eyes filled with tears. “You poor dear,” she whispered
over and over as she carefully removed the jumper cables, tossing them aside.
As she unscrewed the clasps Jenny burst into the room, her arms extended in
front of her the entire way as she raced toward him, grabbing him and hugging
him as hard as she could, and with his first hand freed, he returned the hug,
thanking God and the Professors for having saved his beloved wife.

The gunfire was sporadic and controlled, the vast majority of
resistance eliminated during the initial attack on the machine gun nests. They
were clearly shorthanded, the two squads Leather’s team had eliminated the
night before critical to their overall security.

They
probably never expected to actually have to defend against anybody but natives
with spears.

As he
cleared another room in the complex with Niner at his side, more all clears
were announced over his comm, and within minutes the entire complex was
secured.

“Bravo
Team Two, Bravo One. Begin room by room search for intel. Team One, secure the
exterior, over.”

Team Two
Leader, Red, acknowledged the orders as Dawson exited the compound, sending two
men to cover the road and the landing strip, two at the rear of the compound to
take over machine gun emplacements, then he and Niner headed for the pit.

Leather’s
men suddenly began to take fire, several rolling back from their positions, the
others returning fire.

TikTik grabbed Mother and pulled her toward the massive rock wall,
hiding behind a pile of stone as the others scattered in every direction, their
guards, these co-conspirators of the Panther People, aiming their spears at the
top of the pit they were in, the oddly shaped sticks making loud sounds unlike
anything she had ever heard. She saw small puffs of smoke erupt from the rock
face overhead then noticed there were men with their own odd spears, pointing
them down into the pit.

The odd
loud cracking or snapping sounds echoed through the pit, her fellow prisoners
screaming in terror as some of the guards turned their strange spears and began
pointing at those fleeing. One closest to her suddenly dropped to the ground,
blood rushing from his chest as if hit by an invisible spear. She pushed Mother
behind the rock farther, keeping both their heads down as more and more of
their captors fell.

Within
minutes the strange sounds stopped and the cries and wails of her people grew
quiet. She slowly emerged from behind the rock and gasped. Almost all of the
guards were dead, those that remained alive had their hands in the air, their
spears tossed away on the ground.

She
motioned to Mother. “Come out now, Mother. It’s safe.”

But as
she and the others watched her heart sank as the figures running down the long
path toward the bottom were black from head to toe. She began to cry, the
others realizing as she did, everyone slowly backing away toward the walls, not
sure what to do.

For
approaching them with their strange spears were more Panther People.

Leather’s team along with four of the Bravo Team members quickly ran
down the corkscrew road, it taking almost fifteen minutes to reach the bottom.
Two Bravo Team snipers were on either side of the pit just in case any of the
surrendering guards decided to change their minds but in reaching the bottom
with no incident, it appeared the fight had been drummed out of them.

“Does
anybody speak Portuguese?”

His man,
Graham Norton, a former Captain under his command before he left the SAS, and
an avid footballer, was fluent in both Spanish and Portuguese, and when no one
responded to his first query, Norton repeated it in Spanish.

Several
voices responded.

“We are
here to help you,” said Norton, slinging his weapon and holding his empty hands
out. “You are safe now. Those who can understand me, please tell your people.”

As
Norton tried to calm the quickly gathering throng of natives, Leather and the
others loaded the half dozen remaining Venezuelan guards and the more than two
dozen workers onto an old yellow school bus. The Delta team took them up to the
top, the entire imprisoned population cowering in fear at the sound of the
engine.

These
poor bastards have probably never seen a vehicle before.

He
looked at the massive dozers and dump trucks, wondering what these primitive
people must have thought of them.

Probably
like we’d think of dinosaurs.

His
heart went out to them as they continued to emerge from their hiding places. Leather
walked over to Norton. “How many do you figure?”

Norton
shook his head. “I’m guessing about two or three hundred at this point.”

“Okay,
there’s some cages with facilities up top that it looks like they were being
kept in. I suggest we move them there, but explain that they are no longer
prisoners and are free to leave if they want.”

“I’ll
try, sir, but these people are terrified. They think we’re the Panther People.”

“What
the hell is that?”

Norton
shrugged. “No idea, but they’re scared of us. I think we should get them out of
here, fed, and show them we’re human.”

“Human?”

“And not
Panthers.”

“Good
luck with that.” He turned as the bus returned, Norton turning back to the
gathered natives, asking them to get on the bus. Many appeared reluctant, but with
much coaxing from Norton, and smiles from the Delta team, the bus was
eventually filled with the sun already getting low in the sky.

This
is going to take all bloody night!

Leather’s
comm squawked. “Charlie One, Charlie Four. Sir, we’ve got a problem, over.”

“Charlie
Four, Charlie One. What kind of problem?”

“The
natives, sir. As soon as they got off the bus they ran into the forest.”

Leather
smiled, their problem suddenly solving itself. “I fail to see how that’s a
problem, Lieutenant.”

“But I
thought we were going to keep them in the cages?”

“Out of
necessity, not choice. If they feel better off in the forest, then fantastic.
Perhaps they know their way home and are simply returning to their villages.
Either way, they’re no longer our problem. Charlie One, out.”

Maybe
we’ll be out of here by morning!

“Everyone okay in here?”

Dawson
strode down the hallway of the building the civilians had taken refuge in,
pleased to see the two students safe, though Mitchell looked like he’d been put
through the ringer. He looked into a cell and found one of the civilians lying
on a bed, his shirt open, his body a mess.

“Jesus
Christ, what the hell happened to him?”

“He was
tortured for hours.” Mitchell’s wife, Jenny, answered, her voice cracking as
she looked at the poor bastard.

“What
did they want?”

“Nothing!
They asked him nothing!” she cried. “It was all so pointless.” She threw her
arms out. “All of this! So pointless! Why did any of this have to happen?”

“Greed.”

Acton’s
answer was simple and probably the truth. That and strategic defense. Dawson
knew from briefings that the Chinese, who controlled almost the entire market
in rare earth elements were already beginning to hold back the sale of these
elements to other countries so they could supply their rapidly expanding
economy. Off the book supplies like these were of massive strategic importance
and could give them the edge in the future should sanctions or other means be
used to try and force them to sell their known supplies on the open market.

Supplies
no one knew about? Those could be kept by the Chinese with none the wiser.

It made
him wonder how many of these mines might be scattered across the globe, the
Chinese never known for caring about environmental laws.

They
build a coal fired power plant every two weeks and the environmentalists
criticize America?

“What’s
the status, Sergeant Major?”

Dawson
turned to Reading. “All the Chinese troops are dead, half a dozen Venezuelan
regulars captured along with a support staff of about a dozen—cooks and the
like. Another few dozen workers. We’re holding them in one of the cages they
were keeping the natives in except for the support staff. They’re cooking food
right now for everyone.”

“Good,
I’m starving,” replied Mitchell from the chair he was sitting in. “Getting fried
with a car battery works up an appetite, I guess.”

Jenny
smiled, squeezing his shoulders.

“And the
natives?” asked Laura.

“Most
are fleeing into the jungle, but a few aren’t leaving. We’re not sure why, but
they’re the ones we can’t communicate with. The others we were able to
communicate with through translators, some having members that could speak
Spanish. But this remaining group, about twenty, don’t speak Spanish or
Portuguese, and they seem terrified.”

“They’re
probably one of the uncontacted tribes. Perhaps James and I should go see what
we can do.”

Dawson
nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me. We’re going to hole up here the night
then head out at first light after we destroy this place.”

“Can
you?” asked Acton.

“Absolutely.
We found a large store of dynamite for the mine, plus we’ve got lots of C4 and
detonators.”

“And the
prisoners?”

“We’ll
leave them in their cage with provisions, then notify the authorities after we
cross the border.” He looked at the other civilians milling around. “Are you
the PAN environmentalists?”

One
nodded. “John Tinmouth. Thanks for coming.”

“You’re
welcome.” He pointed to a bunch of camera and video equipment sitting on a
table. “Is that your stuff?”

Tinmouth
nodded. “Yeah, they confiscated it when they captured us.”

“Then I
suggest you get outside and document as much of what you can now. There might
not be time in the morning, and most of the natives are gone.”

Tinmouth’s
eyes opened slightly wider. “My God, I’d forgotten why we were here!” He
paused. “Is it safe outside?”

“Yes.
Just stick within sight of my men. And make sure none of them get on tape.”

Tinmouth
and two of the others geared up and left, one remaining behind with the
tortured man.

“I’ll
have Niner come in and give him a look. Might not be much we can do for him
now, but we can at least give him some painkillers.”

“Yeah
man, painkillers,” whispered the man with a smile on his face, his thumb in the
air.

Acton
turned to Dawson. “Sergeant Major?”

“Yes.”

“What do
we do with the natives that won’t leave?”

Dawson
sighed.

“That’s
the elephant in the room, isn’t it?”

TikTik fed Mother who seemed to be coming around from the shock of
everything now that the prison they were in had been opened, and their new
jailors seemed much friendlier. The Panther People—the new ones—had removed
much of their coverings to reveal that they were human, like her, but not like
her.