“Why here?”
“We have at least 100 yards’ clearance on all sides, surrounded by at least another 300 yards of jungle for buffer.”
“What exactly are we buffering?”
“In the event the cases detonate.”
“What happens then?”
“From the size of the cases, and what my instructor and I expect to be in them, we estimate the explosive damage will cover the entire area and most of the buffer zone.”
Wade shuddered involuntarily. “I mean, what about us?”
“If either of these cases goes off, we won’t be around to worry about it. But at least nobody else will be harmed.”
Max’s sobering comment initially passed over Wade’s head. A minute later he was lost in silence, when reality set in, waves of trauma that went through him like the explosion itself. Wade stared up at the shards of morning light breaking through the canopy, and then gazed down at the foot-high mist that hovered just above the ground. He felt as if he were looking at his own burial site.
Wade reminded himself that Max had made his statement in a state of perfect calm. It was like he was more concerned about others who would be harmed than the two of them. Wade wondered why he wasn’t in that same frame of mind. Before Wade could voice the objections that were running through his mind, his partner spoke.
“Let’s check our perimeter.”
“Good idea.”
“You take that side.”
With Max leading, the two men spread out to different parts of the clearing. Each slowly entered the thick jungle vegetation, their 9 mm sidearms at the ready.
They instinctively traveled in a wide, oblong pattern, using hand signals to agree that they would meet at the apex of where the two football-shaped half-circles met. Fifty feet into the jungle, Wade heard a small sound to his right. He quickly turned his head, drawing his semi-automatic from its holster.
Startled by Wade’s presence below, a keel-billed toucan dropped a large fruit from his bill. Wade’s next step brought the toucan’s vocal protest, and a loud child-like scream broke the cathedral stillness, directly over his head.
He jumped back, pointing his weapon toward the sound of the falling fruit as the bird took flight. The experience rattled Wade’s nerves, which were already on edge. A few steps later Wade’s foot stepped on and broke a twig on the jungle floor. A howler monkey answered with the scream of a child under siege. Wade assumed a crouched position with his weapon extended. He turned toward the sound as the agitated monkey belted out another scream. The noise reverberated within the dense foliage sounding like it was coming from every direction.
Finally, the two men met at the center of their circle. Max was calm, and Wade was inordinately relieved to see a friendly face.
Max was going to need Wade in a relaxed state and decided not to wait for more nerves to develop.
“Let’s unpack the car.”
Wade wasn’t sure what Max meant; Max hadn’t bothered to mention that he’d picked up the cases, which were already tucked in the trunk of his car. Max opened the trunk as Wade stared in disbelief.
“When did you get these? I thought we were out here just surveying the site.”
“Think of it as a picnic.”
The two men each picked up a black case and proceeded to the clearing, then Max returned to the car for the gym bag of tools and a small generator. He pointed to a large fallen tree at the side of the clearing. Kicking away leaves and small brush, he quickly uncovered solid ground. Then he pushed the leaves back to expand a semi-circle around the fallen tree trunk.
Peering down at the trunk, Max eyed the surface. He took out his jungle machete and scraped off some bark to reveal a clean, even surface.
Wade volunteered, “I can get that cleaned off for you. It’ll keep me busy.”
“We need about this much space.”
Max used the spread of his arms to demonstrate the size clearing he wanted. As Wade worked on the tree trunk, Max retrieved the remaining boxes from the car.
The layout of tools for Max had to be precise. He laid a multi-colored blanket of blue and red stylized flowers over the hard dirt, giving the area somewhat of a picnic feel. Max set out each tool on the blanket in precise order, with measured distances between them. With the tools in place, the picnic blanket now looked more like an operating table. Wade helped, speechless and unsettled about what kind of surgery would soon take place.
A thousand questions tumbled over each other in Wade’s mind, but he hesitated to ask, unsure that he wanted answers. The precision of the layout was clearly important to Max, and Wade decided not to break his concentration except for one question: “Will you need me during this process?”
“I certainly will. This is a two-man job all the way through to the end. You’ll be right beside me all the way.”
“I know little or nothing about disarming explosives. The courses I took just taught me how to set them off. ”
“I’ll take care of the disarming. I just need a steady hand.”
Wade held his hands out before him. The visible trembling bore little resemblance to ‘a steady hand’.
“You’ll get a hand, but I’m not sure about the ‘steady’ part.”
“Take some slow, deep breaths, and let them out slowly.”
At Max’s suggestion, Wade dropped to the ground, crossed his legs in a yoga position and started slow breathing. His eyes were closed, trying to find the “zone.” When Max pulled the cord to start the small generator, Wade almost levitated. His body tightened. I never liked explosives, even firecrackers as a kid. All of a sudden this jungle clearing will be on fire with human and monkey parts dangling from the branches. The patient is a highly explosive device in a black box, and the surgeon isn’t sure about how to conduct the operation. One wrong move and we’re all dead.
Wade shook his head, focusing on the task at hand, and asked, “What happens next?”
“I want to smooth out the top of this tree trunk you scraped to make sure it’s as flat as possible.”
Wade got up and turned to watch Max. Using his jungle knife, Max went about smoothing the top of the trunk. After cautiously setting one of the cases on the smooth surface, Max checked to make sure it was resting in a stable position before commenting, “I think we’re good.”
With one hand, Max plugged the cord of the electric drill into the generator and locked in a half-inch drill bit. He was about to drill.
Wade’s eyes widened in horror. “What the hell are you doing? Are you going to drill a hole in the damn case? I’m not sure that’s a smart thing to do.”
“Well, now that you’ve broken my concentration, I’m wondering if this drill bit might be a little too large.”
Wade’s nerves were frayed from the uncertainty. “Are you sure we’re supposed to drill into it?”
“Yes, I just think I should start with a smaller hole. I can always go larger,” Max quickly followed. “Listen, Wade, at this point I have to ask you to stop questioning everything I do. It’s going to take all of my concentration to get through this. I can’t have you second-guessing me.”
“Sorry, partner. I won’t ask any more questions. I don’t mind saying that I’ve got some serious jitters, but I’ll try to be as quiet as I can. At this moment your concentration while drilling into an explosive box is more important to me than anything else in my life.”
“Thank you.”
Max asked Wade to move to the other side of the tree trunk to hold the case steady. Wade complied, jumping high enough to clear a small building. A smaller diameter bit was locked in the drill, and Max began slowly cutting through the hard plastic case one slow and cautious revolution at a time. He had to be careful not to pierce much farther than the outer wall. Wade watched, silently counting each revolution of the drill bit.