CHAPTER FIVE
Two hours later
Perspiration popped out of Kirk, drenching his clothes. He took a swig from his container. Looking ahead, he saw his guide and his translator, moving through the forest as if they didn’t notice the humidity. Come on. Surely they felt as if their pores were the size of nostrils too.
“Four-foot-four to your six-foot-two, sweetheart,” Surya had informed him. “Don’t bring it up or he’ll beat you with that stick. He’s very, very good with it. He knows Silat.”
Silat was the martial art around this part of the world. Kirk recalled having seen it performed on a video before. So, that told him Gasi was in very good shape.
So was Surya, from the way she was keeping up with the short guy. But the operative word wassweetheart. Surya had called him sweetheart.
Right now, hiking in the dark of the jungle, with Gasi in front, poking with his big stick to make sure there weren’t any sleeping snakes, he shouldn’t be thinking about that. He should be looking for them too. He wasn’t particularly fond of snakes, especially when they were big and hungry. But she looked so tempting in that brown and green outfit. It wasn’t camo gear, since they didn’t want to draw any attention. More like hiking attire. She had everything packed in the trunk, in the tire compartment, and it had only taken them half an hour to get ready at Gasi’s.
To be honest, he hadn’t been sure whether Surya was the jungle-hiking type. He’d seen her running around in mind-boggling high heels, but roughing it? Now, here she was, moving silently in the greenery, aparang—machete—in one hand, a headlamp—which somehow managed to make her look fashionable and adorably sexy—banded around her forehead, as if she’d done this before.
Gasi had told them, from the few pinpoints of red that pinged back from the remote tag, he knew where they were headed. It seemed that the villagers were not the only ones who set “illegal” fires in the jungle to clear land for their farming. The “forbidden territories” was just local lingo for where terrorists had taken over. The latter had cleared certain areas for their own encampments, using the area for weapons distribution and perhaps hostage prisons. Villagers avoided those areas and kept mum about them to the authorities because of the trouble these terrorists caused to their families and farmland. Besides, the government was after them for the illegal fires, so reporting on the gangsters would mean a stop to their own way of life.
His satellite phone was high end, but it needed to be pointed to the sky to connect a call. Not possible under this green umbrella. He could make a call when they reached a clearing or a river, as Gasi said there were several nearby. He did, however, have a connected pager and it had successfully sent two quick messages for him. Dec should be tracking him through them by now and directing the SEALs coming their way. There were several big rivers in this area. He was sure the SEAL team had studied and would know the best one to take. He’d read about one of the supersecret stealth boats some SEAL teams had been using that wouldn’t register on any commercial radar. They were designed to navigate shorelines and rivers. Perhaps Hawk’s team would arrive in one of those.
In his short message, he’d mentioned forbidden zones in deforested areas of the island. Dec, maybe with the help of McNeil, should be able to get high-resolution satellite images to identify possible locations. That would increase the chances of discovery exponentially.
His last message reiterated Surya’s and his plan. “Once location of prisoners is confirmed, we’ll plant target signal boost. Then we leave.” The SEALs would handle it from there while his own small team of three headed back to the car. After that, with a short rest, he would prepare to meet for negotiations. If the SEALs arrived at the target and their operation was successful, he would hold an ace in his pocket. Then there would only be the rocket to worry about.
Gasi stopped and looked back. The light from his headlamp splashed in Kirk’s direction, making him squint until the guide adjusted the brightness.
“This spot. Last red signal blink-blink,” he told them quietly.
“Okay,” Surya said. She turned to Kirk. “They shouldn’t be too far from here.”
Kirk peered into the darkness. “I need to get close to the river so we can plant the signal. Then we’ll leave.”
“Gasi?”
The guide pointed in one direction. Kirk saw only shadows and branches.
“There,” Gasi said. “But that’s very, very close. I can smell smoke. That means it’s near where they cleared land.”
Yes, Kirk could smell the acridness hanging in the air too. Fire from deforestation had been a major contributor of decreased air quality in Indonesia. The smell of smoke sometimes could overwhelm a whole island, especially when there was no rain.
“Let’s go close enough where I can see it,” he said. “I need a clearing or the river to send with the satellite phone. One of us can plant the device while the other makes sure the feed is working properly. Shouldn’t take more than a minute.”
“Right,” Surya replied. “I’ll do it while you test the satellite phone. Gasi, you stand guard.”
Someone had cleared a path through the thicket and the progress was easier. It didn’t look like a freshly made path, though. If they were really entering a forbidden territory, then this must be used by the Abu Sayyeh terrorists. It only emphasized how close they were to danger. He tapped Surya’s shoulder.
“Be careful,” he mouthed.
She gave him a thumbs-up. “In and out,” she said, and winked at him.
The clearing appeared behind a big clump, like an unexpected shadowy ribbon. The glow of moonlight and starlight made everything visually clear. After a moment or two, he could make out shapes that weren’t part of nature. A dock? Some kind of dark shapes on the river. Two small building-shaped shadows. A few glimmers of light blinking from cracks of those standing structures—perhaps from gaslights between wooden planks in huts.
Dimming their headlights to pin pricks, they set down their small bags. Kirk pulled out the equipment and Surya quickly assembled the device. He watched her quick, sure hands, putting together pieces of plastic and the small computer card.
“Ready. Three, two, one,” she said, and sprinted out into the darkness.
His satellite phone was ready, hooked up to a small device that would pair the signal to the one Surya had. His gaze followed her shadow as she moved, zigzagging in and out of trees and shrubs. Aiming his phone toward the sky, he called Dec’s number, then punched in the codes.
He watched as she squatted close to the river bank. She had to secure the device somewhere in the open, away from trees. In the semi-darkness of that clearing, she had to be careful not to step on anything—traps, rocks, anything that could bring attention to her.
