The impact of the world’s largest conventional bomb was devastating. A full thirty meters of the top of the Acarai summit was simply gone. Rocks, trees, everything… vaporized into nothingness, along with every creature within the radius of a quarter mile.
Salazar and his army, along with Otero and Russo. Every living thing was gone. Including Corso and Juan.
Further down the mountain, the shock wave flattened trees for another full mile, setting nearly half of what remained on fire. The rest was left smoldering.
Much further down, and inside the cave, there was no sound. Dirt and rocks covered the floor, while thick wisps of dust were being sucked outside into the hot air.
On the floor, a single spot of dirt finally moved. Several seconds later, it moved again, but this time, growing larger. Slowly, something pushed upward, causing the loose dirt to fall away before taking the shape of an arm. Dirt moved in another area and Steve Caesare’s head emerged.
He wiped the dirt from his eyes and looked around, into blackness. He thrust his arms back into the dirt and found his flashlight, pulling it out. It was still lit.
Caesare climbed to his feet and held the light up, looking for the others. He helped the rising shapes of Dulce and DeeAnn, then began searching for monkeys.
“What the hell was that?” DeeAnn coughed.
“A bomb.”
Thirty minutes later, they stood at the cave entrance, peering out in shock at the sight before them. Against the moonlight, warm ash fell silently to the ground. Higher up on the mountain, a raging wall of fire ringed what was left of the summit.
A numb DeeAnn stared up at the flames. Tears appeared and ran down her cheeks, creating tracks on her dust-covered face.
Caesare pointed his flashlight at the ground. His voice was somber. “We have to get out of here. That fire can spread.”
With Dulce on his back and DeeAnn following behind, Caesare came to a stop and lowered his flashlight. He studied the sight in front of them with curiosity. Almost a hundred yards ahead, something was glowing, and brightly.
He raised his light and continued forward until he realized what the object was. Then he began running.
It was a vehicle, a Humvee, lying on its left side with two wheels in the air. It was pinned beneath two flattened trees, and miraculously, one of the headlights was still functioning.
Caesare reached the small truck and dropped Dulce to the ground. He turned and held up a hand to them. “Stay here.”
He circled the front of the vehicle, taking large steps through the flat brush, then stopped and shined his flashlight through the shattered windshield. Behind the myriad of cracks, he could see the barrel of a gun pointing directly at him.
“Tiewater?”
At the sound of his name, the SEAL let his hand fall with a groan.
Even seeing the man’s face covered in blood, Caesare couldn’t help but smile. He climbed up onto the vehicle’s upturned side and peered down through the open window. “Son of a bitch, you’re alive!”
Tiewater, unable to move his head, moved his eyes instead. “Good, because this sure as hell doesn’t feel like heaven. Somebody nuked us.”
“I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t a nuke. Can you move?”
Tiewater clenched his teeth and tried. “Not much. I think my legs are broken. And maybe my arm.”
Caesare nodded. He looked around the inside at all the silver-colored airbags, now deflated.
“You might be the best commercial yet for the airbag companies.”
“Lucky me. Now get me the hell out of here.”
“Hold on. Let me figure this out.”
“Wait,” Tiewater said, straining to look through the window frame. “What about Corso and the kid?”
Caesare frowned and shook his head.
92
Wil Borger never saw the explosion. He was instead gripping the sides of his seat, white-knuckled, as the Sea King helicopter reduced its altitude and began to slow. The bright lights of the Pathfinder could be seen less than a mile away, floating eerily on what resembled a sea of blackness.
When the helicopter touched down, he unbuckled and grabbed his bag in one hand. The door was opened from the outside and a young navy officer motioned him down onto a metal stepladder.
When he reached the deck, he noticed several others standing and waiting, carrying something. It was a wire basket stretcher. In it was a man who looked like an unconscious Chris Ramirez.
Borger forgot about his anxiety and watched the team quickly move in behind him, sliding Chris into the helicopter. A doctor climbed in next to him and slammed the door shut.
Only when Borger turned around did he see Alison standing on the deck several feet away, tears in her eyes.
“Alison?”
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she turned to Wil.
“What happened?”
“An accident. Chris is being airlifted back to Trinidad.”
Before he could ask, Alison choked back sobs and answered his question. “It doesn’t look good.”
“My God, I’m sorry.”
Alison didn’t respond. Instead, she merely watched the helicopter as it roared back into the air. She continued watching until the helicopter’s lights faded into nothingness before turning back to Borger. Her face was dour. “Did you bring it?”
“I did.”
Alison took a deep breath and looked up at the star-filled sky. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. The fear was still there, but she had to ask him. She had to ask him the question she was terrified of hearing the answer to.
“How is John?”
She watched the look on Borger’s face change. He struggled, staring at her uncomfortably. “Uh…”
“Just tell me,” she said. “I know something is wrong. I can feel it. Just tell me the truth.”
Borger blinked and remained still, then finally nodded. “The truth is… I don’t know.” He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know how he is, or even where he is right now. Not exactly.”
“What does not exactly mean?”
“He’s in China. But I’ve lost contact with him. A rescue team has been sent in…”
Alison pursed her lips together. Borger could see the glistening of tears in her eyes. “A rescue team?”
He nodded, hoping she wouldn’t ask who. Explaining that the CIA was trying to find Clay probably wouldn’t help matters.
“It must be bad.” Alison's chin quivered slightly. “He’s usually the one doing the rescuing.”
“He did save someone. A young girl. That much, I do know.”
She nodded and tried to blink away the tears. “Do you think he’s dead?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Why?”
Borger let a small grin escape. “Because Clay is my friend. And I know that if the situation were reversed, he would never give up on me.”
Alison stared at Borger before finally grinning with him. “You’re right.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you.”
He nodded and looked around at the men waiting nearby. “Now what?”
She took another deep breath. “Neely Lawton is waiting for you upstairs. They’ll take you.”
“What about you?”
She turned and looked back at Tay and Lightfoot, both waiting patiently. “I have an appointment.”
Borger noticed the SCUBA gear behind the men. “What did you find?”
“The plants are the same. Just like we saw on the mountain. But how it happened here, I haven’t the slightest idea.”
Borger’s face became serious. “Then there’s something I need to tell you.”
Alison. You back.
“I’m back,” Alison nodded. “Just like I promised.”