She slowly shook her head again. “Sorry, this is not my fight. I paid my dues, and then some. DNA or no DNA, I don’t believe anything is going to change. Not the people, the politics, and certainly not the system. If we were all in this to make life better for everyone, that might be one thing. But this is just a game. Nothing will change. It will always be played by people who have never played by the rules and who now want to change the game itself. I don’t think they’ll be able to, but I’m not willing to die just to find out. ”
Caesare inhaled and finally nodded. The last thing he wanted to do was to force her to come. It wouldn’t be all that different from what happened to her the first time.
He moved slowly, and as he turned, he looked to Alison, who was still watching them both. She and Caesare knew something DeeAnn didn’t. Something much bigger than trying to find a monkey. Something only he, Alison, and two other people knew and had sworn themselves to secrecy.
Caesare turned to Corso, Anderson, and Tiewater and motioned back toward the door. “Give us a minute, fellas.”
One by one, the men turned for the door.
When it clicked shut, Caesare looked at Alison.
“Tell her.”
“Tell me what?”
Alison turned to her friend solemnly. “There’s more.”
“More what?”
“There’s more to the story. About what we found on top of that mountain.”
DeeAnn’s eyes moved back and forth between them. “You mean when you were outside.”
“Yes.”
She knew what Alison was referring to. She was on the helicopter too, with Dulce. But she hadn’t wanted to know what was outside or what it was they found. Dulce had already come frighteningly close to having a complete breakdown, as had DeeAnn. The truth was she didn’t want to go outside. She was done. Finished. They had survived and all she wanted to do from that moment was to go home. To get home and start over.
DeeAnn shook her head. “I don’t want to know.”
Alison glanced at Caesare before replying. “I don’t think that’s an option anymore.”
“Excuse me?”
Alison straightened from the edge of her desk. “There’s more to this than you realize, DeeAnn, and it’s the reason Steve’s going back. It’s not just about the monkey or its DNA.”
“No! Whatever it is, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to know.” She looked at both of them in anger. “This isn’t my problem. Find someone else!”
“This could turn out bad, DeeAnn. Really, really bad. Not just for those at the top, but for everyone.”
That instantly stopped DeeAnn’s head shaking. “I already tried to help. I did! And what did it get me? Nightmares, that’s what! I’m lucky if I sleep three hours a night. You know why? Because up there, for the first time in my life, I was completely and utterly helpless! They were about to kill me and dump my body, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it!”
She looked at Caesare who remained quiet. “If it weren’t for you, Steve, I would be dead. Dead. Right now! I will never forget what you did. Ever. But there is no way I’m going to put myself in a position where that can happen again. I don’t care how many men you bring. Bring them, bring the Marines too, bring all of them, and I still wouldn’t go back! I’ve had enough fear to last me a lifetime. I sure as hell don’t need anymore.”
DeeAnn could no longer stop the tears. She quit talking and looked for an exit. With a sudden burst, she ran past Caesare, flung the door open, and rushed out.
Caesare emerged behind her and watched as DeeAnn disappeared down the stairs at the end of the hall. Once she was out of sight, he turned to the other men standing behind him.
Tiewater raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t appear to go very well.”
11
The small, white Ming Dynasty vase smashed against the wall with the force and sound of a small explosion, breaking into hundreds of pieces as it fell onto the plush carpet. Tiago Otero was furious. His eyes blazed as he looked for something else to throw but found nothing within reach.
He cursed repeatedly and glared back at Lieutenant Samuel Russo, the head of his own security, and the man delivering the news about his men. One was dead and the other hospitalized. They were instructed to burn the house down with Blanco’s dead family inside. But Russo’s men had failed miserably. Instead, they found the house virtually empty and someone waiting for them.
It was worse than failure, it was humiliating. Now people would know that it was Otero who had been taught the lesson — direct challenge to his power and influence over all of Brazil. A mockery.
With lips snarling, Otero looked down at the table and the cut fabric Russo had laid upon it. “What is this?!”
“A sign.”
“A sign of what?!”
“Of who did this. It’s in the shape of a trident. The symbol used for the U.S. Navy SEALs.”
His eyes shot back to Russo. “The U.S. did this?”
“It would appear so.”
Otero’s gaze fell back to the shirt, blinking. “Why would Blanco be involved with the U.S.? What did they have to do with anything?” After considering the possibility, he finally shook his head, sneering. “It’s a prank. A diversion. Whoever did this wanted us to think it was the Americans. But they’d just as soon kill someone like Blanco as I would.”
Russo stared at him over the table. “Not his family.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
Over the years, Otero had become familiar with many of the C.I.A.’s escapades. They were as ruthless as anyone. They simply made it appear as though it was someone else. But the Americans would never point the finger at themselves. Would they?
His eyes narrowed. “Find out who it was. Now. No matter how you find them, I want to know who did this!”
“I will.”
Otero clenched his jaw and bared his teeth. He would track down who did it, who had publicly insulted him. And when he did, that man would find out that there were far worse things than letting some worthless family perish.
He waved Russo away and waited until he left the room. Otero then turned and walked angrily through the room to his study. Lined floor to ceiling with rare and expensive books, he continued to the center of the room where a round table sat. It was covered with a giant map of Brazil and the entire South American continent. Centered on the country’s highest mountain range called Acarai, stood the range’s highest and still unnamed peak.
He and his men were going to uncover its secret. Part of the Brazilian Army was coming with him and they weren’t leaving until Otero knew everything, including what the Chinese were after.
It was a question he would soon regret asking.
12
Otero’s impending regret would come from a man named Xinzhen, who stood motionless in the enormous pavilion atop the China Club hotel. Nestled in the traditional hutong area and well-known as one of Beijing’s most lavish hotels, the China Club sprawled out over ten thousand square meters and was composed of several Qing Dynasty pavilions and secluded courtyards.
Xinzhen stood solemnly, less than a meter from the thick glass wall, and peered out at the smog covered city of Beijing. The day was clearer than expected with only a thin film of pollution obstructing the view.
He scanned the light gray cityscape, noting the eerie shadows belonging to dozens of cranes with their arms rising into the air, even now. They would be gone soon but for now they remained, serving as ghostly remnants of the largest bubble in human history. A level of greatness and grueling achievement the world would not see again for hundreds of years. The world where for decades demand had radically outpaced the supply of natural resources, only to leave the most immense economic vacuum imaginable.