Ramses’ belly laugh filled the room, overwhelming. Webb motioned at his bodyguard. No more words were said as the two men departed. Once they had exited the inner castle Ramses motioned that Akatash could depart too. The demon withdrew without a word. Ramses wandered over to his window and stared down at the courtyard, down upon Tyler Webb and Beauregard Alain.
How easily men could be manipulated. How easily even a mad megalomaniac could be turned to malleable jelly. All you had to do was find the thing they loved or needed — and squeeze.
First the bazaar, then the nuke business, and finally his revenge.
All of a sudden, Peru didn’t look so lackluster after all.
He pressed another concealed button. “Let’s begin,” he said. “In the years to come the world will look back upon this moment, this day, and this place as a turning point in history. A fulcrum to ultimate change.”
“So you’re saying — let the games begin?”
Ramses laughed. “That I am, my friend. That I am.”
CHAPTER SIX
The SPEAR team landed in Manaus, Brazil, a densely populated city forming the main entrance for visiting the wildlife and plant life of the Amazon rainforest. Once known as the ‘Heart of the Amazon’, it became more famous for its Free Economic Zone and cellphone manufacturing plants.
The team saw none of the colorful city as the plane landed at Eduardo Gomes International and then taxied to a stop near the smaller terminal normally reserved for regional aviation. They were met on the tarmac by officials who knew they were coming, locals firmly in the pocket of the local US agency way station, with instructions to let them pass. Of course, in theory this was easy but in real life nothing ever went to plan.
Before they left DC the team had been promised an utterly discreet passage and a final destination where they could equip themselves with all the latest weaponry — most of which they would unquestionably need — before being shown to a Manaus safe house. Drake trusted such seamless planning as much as he trusted most social media sites’ privacy policies and the small links at the bottom of spam emails that read: ‘click here to unsubscribe’.
The temperature was in the thirties and the ground looked as if it had recently received a soaking. Drake allowed Hayden to approach the authorities as he and the rest of the team fanned out to guard their flanks. He was also on alert for any kind of distant surveillance although actually spotting such a thing in any situation was even harder than it sounded. With the still grumbling plane at their backs and in the shadow of the terminal, the team could see only half a dozen windows overlooking them from a distant building and no activity in any of them. They waited until Hayden had produced the necessary credentials and then followed her through a small gate, passing two more smoking guards as they went. One of the guards blew smoke in the air, bored, whilst the other stared with deep interest at his belt. Drake guessed that this kind of thing happened all the time in this part of the world.
The Amazon rainforest, though known for many things including its great river, its immense flora that formed over half the world’s rainforest, its deadly creatures and biodiversity, had now also become a haven for drug dealers, arms smugglers and other similar scum-sucking types. Authorities were paid so little that they were always open to a little extra grease-money and those that weren’t were often found decaying by the side of quiet roads or, in many cases, never seen again.
It has been said that the Brazilians had lost control of whatever small influence they had in the Amazon basin, but then eight other nations also claimed a percentage of it, and with every nation offering up a different policy, who could keep track of that? Drake knew it would be best to concentrate on their own small mission whilst they were here — a quick ‘in-and-out’ demolition of most of the leading lights in international terrorism — but found himself wishing there was some way to preserve such an innocent area of the world. Not everywhere should feel the touch of human boots, of human avarice and arrogance. The futility of his thoughts saddened him. Someone, somewhere, would always be prepared to destroy everything that stood in their way in order to accomplish their own goals.
Beyond the terminal and the security fence a feeder road curved away from the main airport, vanishing into the distance. Their own personal Brazilian customs official ushered them toward a black SUV, conspicuous by its detachment, ticking over at the curb. Drake headed for the passenger seat but Dahl pushed him aside.
“Relax, pal. Sit in the back with your new bird. The big boys can handle this one.”
Drake steadied himself against the vehicle’s door frame. “Bird? Big boys? Nay lad, tha’s no need t’ get yer knickers in a twist.”
The Swede blanched at the Yorkshire accent. “Cut it out.”
Drake opened the door for the others, a little unsure if Dahl was ribbing him or trying to subtly point out that he wasn’t happy about what clearly might become a new relationship between Alicia and him. Subtle wasn’t usually Dahl’s strongpoint and, in addition, the Swede might also be warning him to stay focused. Who knew with the big lummox? Drake would find out when they grabbed a moment alone.
Hayden and Kinimaka took the back seats; Alicia, Yorgi and Lauren the middle set. Drake wondered if he might have to climb into the trunk. Smyth just growled.
Alicia patted her knee. “I’ll take the smallest.”
Dahl leaned over from the front. “See what I mean?”
Drake climbed in, leaving Smyth to wedge himself between Kinimaka and the window, not a pleasant task. Soon they were underway, tearing down the feeder road toward the airport’s exit. The driver used an ID tag to raise the barrier and then filtered into morning traffic, saying nothing as he threaded them toward the center of the city. The team remained silent, each formulating their own thoughts and plans of how best to deal with the journey ahead. Soon, at the safe house, they would be able to discuss.
A brief, light shower coated the car’s windows. Drake, who had jammed his body beside Alicia rather than risk the other ignominy, stared out at the passing streets, the bustling life. Manaus was an intense diversity, from the most orange and bright dockside he’d ever seen to houses on stilts arrayed along the riverside, to theaters, plazas and multi-million dollar football stadiums. Inside here, it was hard to believe one of the last great uncharted wildernesses lay just outside, and so in contrast with the last place they had faced down adversity. The Arizonan desert had been a vast wilderness, both hostile and stunning to observe and scoured by one of the worst storms he had ever seen. Even that phenomenon had been overshadowed though by the sight of the ghost ship itself, a part of the desert even after all these years, and a peculiar sadness now lingered that the American government were involved with excavating and removing it, and negotiating over its treasures. Such a mythical paragon ought to be allowed to remain in place, symbolic of what secrets this earth still had to yield. But men, power and greed trumped all that.
Their driver turned into a new road, leaving the main thoroughfare and heading across an area of flat wasteland. At the far side Drake spied a collection of dirty, rusting airplanes, parked haphazardly, wing to wing.
“An abandoned airfield?” Hayden questioned. “I thought our weapons cache might be more… state of the art.”
Smyth coughed raucously. “When did that ever happen? We’re lucky they didn’t HALO-jump us into here.”
Dahl nodded. “He’s right. They could have just inserted us into the canopy and taught us how to sharpen sticks.”
Drake grunted. “Sounds painful. Well let’s hope they sell more than bows and arrows and blowguns in here.”