Jaeger wasn’t in the habit of doing things by halves. Once he’d agreed to lead the expedition, he’d thrown himself into it wholeheartedly. He’d had to pick up from where Smithy had left off and hit the ground running. The frenetic preparations had consumed his every waking moment, leaving precious little time for anything else.
He’d only just managed to grab a quick phone call with his parents prior to departure. A few years back they’d retired to Bermuda – to permanent sunshine, the odd hurricane and the joys of tax-free living. During a rushed call he’d told them the basics: that he was back from Bioko; there was no news on Ruth and Luke; he was off to the Amazon on an Enduro Adventures expedition; plus he wanted to come and visit, to ask them more about Grandpa Ted’s life, and also about how he’d died.
He’d promised his parents he’d get out to see them soon and signed off the call. He’d left his suspicions about Grandpa Ted’s death unsaid. It felt wrong to raise them over an echoing phone line. Such a conversation needed to be held face-to-face. As soon as he was finished in the Amazon, he’d catch a flight to Bermuda.
Jaeger and his team had been in Brazil for a week now, hosted by Colonel Evandro and his B-SOB teams. Over that time the Brazilian warmth – both of character and of climate – had soothed the worst of his fears. Gradually the lurking sense of darkness that had gripped him in the UK had faded from his mind.
It was only now – as they prepared to head deeper into the Amazon proper – that those worries had started crowding in again.
19
Cachimbo airstrip lay deep in a densely forested valley, an impenetrable carpet of lush, tangled vegetation marching up the slopes to either side. The first rays of sunlight were starting to blaze above the ragged jungle horizon – lasers burning away the wisps of mist that clung to the treetops. The fierce tropical sun would soon burn off the cool dawn.
Those in Jaeger’s line of work said that there were only ever two kinds of reaction to the jungle: it was either love or hate at first sight. Those who hated it saw it as dark, alien and foreboding. Claustrophobic. Fraught with danger. But with Jaeger it had always been the opposite. He was drawn irresistibly to the wild, thrusting, exuberant riot of life – the awe-inspiring tropical forest ecosystem.
He was thrilled by the idea of a wilderness devoid of all trappings of human civilisation. And in truth, the jungle was neutral. It was neither inherently hostile nor friendly to humankind. Learn its ways, tune into its resonance, become at one with its essence, and it could prove a fantastic friend and refuge.
That being said, the pure, simple remote wildness of the Cordillera de los Dios – the Mountains of the Gods – was unlike anything else on this earth. And then of course there was that mystery aircraft, lying hidden in the Cordillera’s remote heart.
From above him what looked like a harpy eagle emitted a lonely, high-pitched screech. There was an answering cry from atop one of the tallest of the forest giants. It was an ‘emergent’ – a massive tropical hardwood towering some 150 feet above the dark and shadowed recesses of the forest floor. Its thrusting crown had broken through the canopy, reaching high in the battle for sunlight.
There it stood, bathed in the first rays of a glorious dawn.
King of all it surveyed.
The topmost branches offered the perfect vantage point from which the eagle could hunt his prey. Jaeger scanned the tree’s spreading vegetation, which was dusted with a delicate pink blush of flowers. It alone was in full bloom. It drew the eye – a patch of iridescent colour surrounded on all sides by a sea of deep greens.
He spotted the nest.
The eagles were a breeding pair.
No doubt there were hungry chicks to feed.
For a moment, Jaeger imagined himself as that eagle, soaring high over the jungle on wings some seven feet across. He saw himself diving over that remote and distant wilderness where the mystery aircraft lay hidden. With an eagle’s vision he could track a mouse moving on the forest floor from several hundred yards away. Spotting the site of that air wreck – the bare, skeletal branches drained of life and stripped clean of vegetation – was child’s play.
In his mind’s eye he glided overhead, the scene below him looking so unnatural. Still. Lifeless. Ghostly, even.
What had caused the forest to die like that?
What secrets – what dangers – did that mystery aircraft harbour?
Watching the eagles, Jaeger was reminded of the Reichsadler. In the hectic whirl of the last few days he’d had little time to dwell upon that cruel eagle symbol; that prophetic darkness. Odd how such a magnificent bird could represent both evil and wild freedom and beauty.
It was Sun Tzu, the ancient Chinese master of warfare, who’d first coined the phrase know your enemy.
In the military, Jaeger had made that his mantra.
He was used to facing an enemy that he knew and understood well. One that he’d studied hard, using satellite images, surveillance photos and briefings from the world’s foremost intelligence agencies. Using signals intercepts. Employing humint – human intelligence – assets on the ground: a spy, or a source within the bad guys’ camp.
Before any mission he would assure himself that he knew his enemy intimately, so much the better to defeat him. But right here and now they were going in to face a whole plethora of potential dangers, none of which they knew or understood.
Whatever the risks were, they remained unknown.
Whoever the enemy might be, they were faceless.
Strangers.
No doubt about it, that was what had Jaeger spooked – rushing into this nameless and unknowable peril.
But at least now he’d got it straight in his head.
At least now he knew.
Having reached that realisation, Jaeger felt somewhat reassured. He turned to face the aircraft. He heard the high-pitched whine as the starter motors fired up the first of the giant turbines. Slowly, ponderously, the massive hook-bladed propellers began to turn as if they were mired in thick treacle.
A Land Rover was tearing down the rutted dirt track that sat alongside the runway. Jaeger guessed someone was coming to drive him back to the waiting plane. It pulled to a halt and the unmistakable figure of Colonel Evandro jumped out.
Six foot two, dark-eyed, lithe and athletic-looking despite his age, the B-SOB colonel had lost none of his presence during the years since Jaeger had first served alongside him. He had opted to put himself through the hell of SAS selection so that he could better shape his unit in the British regiment’s image – and Jaeger admired him greatly for it.
‘Time to head for the hold,’ he announced. ‘Your team – they’re making their final preparations for getting airborne.’
Jaeger nodded. ‘You sure you won’t be coming with us?’
The colonel smiled. ‘Truthfully? I would love nothing more. Pen-pushing is hardly my milieu. But with rank and command comes all the usual bullshit.’
‘Best I get going, then.’
The colonel held out his hand. ‘Good luck, my friend.’
‘You think we’ll be needing it?’
He eyed Jaeger for a long moment. ‘It is the Amazon. Expect the unexpected.’
‘Expect the unexpected,’ Jaeger echoed. Wise words.
Together they climbed into the Land Rover and tore back along the track towards the waiting Hercules.