Alex Lukeman
The Eye of Shiva
"I am created Shiva, the Destroyer, Death, the shatterer of worlds."
CHAPTER 1
Rain from the South China Sea beat a monotonous rhythm on the rain forest canopy overhead. Nick Carter pulled his MP5 close to his chest and wished it would quit. The water fell in sudden streams through the leaves and down the back of his neck.
The rain forest stank of rot and mud and heat. Ahead of him, soldiers from the Philippines Special Forces Regiment moved in silence through a world lit with endless, green twilight. More followed behind. The trail under Nick's feet was churned into muddy ooze, slippery, laced with treacherous roots and crawling vines waiting to trip him.
Roots and vines were the least of his problems. Trip on a root and he'd get a sprained ankle. Step on a mine or trigger an IED, that step would be his last.
The objective was an abandoned rubber plantation on Mindanao being used by Abu Sayyaf, a brutal jihadist group that had left a trail of headless corpses and bombed out markets across the breadth of the island. All the other Islamic separatist movements on the island had agreed to recent peace accords with the government. Abu Sayyaf's response to Manila was to intensify their terror campaign.
The terrorists were flush with money and were using it to buy the latest in modern weapons. There were rumors they had made an alliance with the Taliban. If the stories were true, it would be an international terrorist alliance from hell. Those rumors and the unknown source of money were the reasons Nick was slogging through the Philippine rain forest.
Officially, he wasn't there. If things went wrong, there would be no posthumous medals or heroic speeches about valor when they buried whatever was left of him.
The leader of the Filipinos was a short, muscular man named Rafael Gabuyo. Captain Gabuyo had gone through Army Ranger training at Fort Benning and knew what he was doing, which gave Nick one less thing to worry about. Earlier, Gabuyo had sent his sergeant ahead to scout the objective. Nick saw the man return. The captain signaled a halt and beckoned Nick forward. The three men stood together on the trail, water dripping off the brims of their camouflage covers. Nick's green jungle fatigues were dark with sweat and rain.
At six feet and two hundred pounds, Nick dwarfed the smaller Filipinos. The heat and humidity of the jungle wrapped around him like a damp fist. A change in the sound of the water hitting the leaves signaled that the rain was letting up.
Thank God for small favors, he thought
"We are very close," Gabuyo said.
His voice was soft, muffled by the humid air. He pulled a folded black and white satellite photo from under his shirt and opened it out. It showed what was left of the plantation. A large house that had been living quarters for the overseer and his family still stood on the edge of the jungle. The rain forest was taking back the land, but the house and a broad, cleared space in front of it were still visible. Evenly spaced rows of neglected rubber trees marched away in the thick undergrowth. Vehicles were parked near the building. A winding, narrow track led away from the house and back to the nearest highway, miles away.
Gabuyo traced his finger along the photo and rested it at the corner of the cleared area.
"This trail we are on comes out here," he said, "a few hundred yards from where we are standing."
"Sentries?" Nick asked.
"Sergeant Ramirez says only one." He pointed out the spot on the map where the trail entered the clearing.
"I saw two more men walking around outside the building," the scout said. "They have AKs. I don't know how many are inside. There are two Land Rovers parked by the side of the house. Also a Toyota pickup with a heavy machine gun mounted in the bed. That's parked in front."
"Every terrorist's favorite ride," Nick said. "How do you want to do it, Captain?"
Gabuyo looked at his watch. "It gets dark soon. We can't approach from the front, it's too open. The jungle has grown close to the building in back. We'll take out the sentry on the trail and work around to the back along the perimeter, then toss a few grenades through the windows. After that it should be easy."
Nick thought about it. Sweet and simple, nothing complicated. Simple was good. It should work. But he knew that when the attack started, simple plans could become complicated.
Gabuyo said, "Pass the word to the others. We move out in five minutes."
"Yes, sir." The sergeant moved off.
Gabuyo looked at Nick. "When we go in, I want you in support only. This is a Philippine operation. You are here as an observer. Your presence is secondary."
Nick had expected nothing different. It was all right with him if others took the brunt of an assault for a change.
"Understood, Captain."
Gabuyo nodded once. "Good," he said. "Let's move out."
They moved down the trail and Nick felt the adrenaline kick in. His body vibrated with sudden energy. He was just an observer but the terrorists didn't know that. There was nothing like it, that adrenaline hit before a firefight, addictive as any drug. His mouth was dry and he breathed deep as he walked, calming himself. Too much of a good thing would get him killed.
The signal came back to halt and he crouched down and waited. The sounds of rain had slacked off to a faint patter of drops on the leaves. A bird called in the distance, then another. A silver mist began rising from the jungle floor.
They moved forward again, past the body of the sentry lying by the side of the trail, his eyes wide open and sightless. His throat was cut deep and wide, his chest covered in blood.
A minute later, Nick saw the clearing. The old plantation house was a long rectangle made of logs with a wide, covered porch in front. The roof had fallen in at one end. The foundation was going and the building had started to lean. Smoke rose from a chimney in the middle of the roof. He saw the parked Land Rovers and the armed Toyota. There was no one on the porch.
So far so good, he thought, they're all inside.
Gabuyo's men moved like silent wraiths through the trees. The captain moved to the back of the building and armed a grenade.
Then it went wrong.
A burst of automatic rifle fire came from the house and caught the Filipino in the chest. Gabuyo was knocked backward. The grenade flew out of his hand and detonated. Two of his men were caught in the explosion and went down.
More shots came from the building. Bullets ripped through the leaves over Nick's head with a sound like tearing paper. The Filipinos began returning fire. The sounds of the jungle were drowned out by the barking of automatic weapons.
Later, it was hard to remember exactly what happened.
He darted from cover and ran to the front corner of the house and leapt onto the porch. A man came out of the house with an AK. Nick shot him and ran to the doorway. He pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it through the open door and got out of the way.
The grenade sent smoke and debris flying through the door. Nick leaned around the doorway and shot the first person he saw. Bullets struck the wooden doorframe by his head, showering him with splinters. A bearded man dressed in a loose white shirt and baggy pants shot at him with a pistol. Nick fired a three round burst that bloodied the white shirt and drove the shooter backward and down. His pistol skidded across the floor. Nick ran across the room to an arched opening and glanced around it into the next room. Bodies lay on the floor. Two men were firing at the Filipinos through an open window. One of them turned and let off a burst that peppered Nick with pieces of wood and plaster.
He ducked back and tossed a grenade into the room. The explosion shook the building and brought down part of the ceiling.