The SUV stopped in between two of the larger planes, out of sight. The so-far-mute driver then nodded ahead and Drake looked over to see an aircraft door being lowered next to some large blue lettering—Skymaster.
A man descended the steps quite slowly, sporting a limp. He wore a battered brown leather jacket and faded denim jeans. The team stepped out warily into the heat as the man blinked near-sightedly at them.
“Well, come on,” he said. “It’s hotter than Satan’s scrotum in here.”
Alicia leaned into Drake as they walked. “Do you think he knows where he is? Y’know… the Amazon?”
Drake followed Dahl, with Hayden and Kinimaka bringing up the rear. Smyth grunted that he would remain outside on watch, and Lauren chose to stay with him. Drake ascended the aircraft’s steps lightly, staying close to the Mad Swede in case any surprises awaited inside.
The interior was dim, dingy, and dirty. Dust coated everything, traced through with finger marks and boot prints. Drake noted what he assumed to be droplets of sweat marking a trail along the aisle. Ahead, the leather-jacketed man stopped.
“So Jim’s not my real name but that’s what you can call me. What are your names?”
“James,” Drake said, indicating himself. “And Buffy.” He indicated Alicia, then turned to Dahl. “And this one’s Dolph Lundgren, in the flesh.”
Dahl shook his head. “Shall we get this thing done?”
Jim nodded enthusiastically. Drake sidestepped the flying sweat. Their host might be a breathing, festering pool of perspiration and his abode might stink to high heaven, but his wares were everything Drake could have hoped for.
“All this,” Hayden said, “on a derelict airplane in an abandoned airfield?”
Jim shrugged. “Easy all around,” he said. “And it’s not exactly abandoned. Kick-ass security system and lotsa guns.” He winked. “Surprised you didn’t spot it. Oh, and believe me… in Brazil finding guns ain’t a problem.”
He turned away, leaving Hayden staring at Drake. The Yorkshireman cast it off with a sigh. “Okay, mate, so what we got ’ere then?”
“Heckler and Koch MP5, about a million of ’em. A few UMPs, its successor. These fire 9x19 Parabellum cartridges. The MP5s are the same and semi-auto. Take your pick and whatever ammo you need. Other goodies? Follow me.”
Drake trailed him down the narrow aisle of the plane. Beyond the third row the seats had been taken out and replaced by long, flat tables. Weapons and other military necessities lay everywhere. The team ranged out a little, examining the wares. Kinimaka knocked a table of grenades over, but only Jim noticed. The rest of the team had known it would happen. They picked between flack-jackets, first-aid kits and field rations. The first-aid kits included more specialized antidotes than even Hayden could recognize, specific to the region.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about getting bitten,” Jim said without smiling. “Some of those creepy-crawlies out there’ll kill ya before you even think the word ‘antidote’.”
Alicia shuddered. “I’m starting to rethink this mission.”
“Ah, don’t worry, love,” Drake said. “No sand spiders here.”
Jim looked at them strangely. “Sand spiders? No. But there are black caimans, jaguars and anacondas. Poison dart frogs, piranha and vampire bats. Parasites and disease vectors and fevers. Bullet ants, howler monkeys—”
Alicia spun around. “That’s it. I’m outta here.”
Drake watched her exit the plane. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.”
Hayden continued to peruse the goods as if nothing had happened. Jim cleared his throat. “You guys wanna get a friggin’ move on. This ain’t a garden sale. I got places to be.”
Drake picked up a military knife and a night vision scope. “Running for mayor?”
“Something like that. I’d take those other tents if I were you.” He pointed to a pile beyond where Dahl and Yorgi were looking. “More protection from the insects.”
“Oh, I am so looking forward to this trek,” Kinimaka puffed.
“More predators out there than in any third-world shanty town. But luckily, you guys are the best, right?”
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Drake. “Just trying to make a difference,” he said. “So the good folks can sleep easy.”
“Oh yeah? Aren’t we all?” Jim looked angry for a moment, but then his face slackened. “Listen, don’t mind me. And is there anything else you need? Be warned, those fuckers out there may live in the fucking jungle — but they got fifty cals, RPGs, anti-tanks, you name it. Not to mention Range Rovers built specially for ‘em. The chances of you beating them…” he shook his head sadly.
Drake took a final glance around. “We’ll risk it,” he said. “Believe it or not, we’ve done some weird shit in the last few years. And survived it all intact.”
Dahl shoulder-barged him on the way past. “Well, your body at least.”
“Oh, my body aches,” Drake said. “Even my bloody bones ache. Every time you speak.”
He imitated the rest of the team in choosing a Glock for his handgun and then adding as many spare mags as he thought it would be feasible to carry. Of course, they could get more ammo once they encountered their enemies, but it was sounding like this mission might have to be a more clandestine event than usual. It wouldn’t do to crash the party before all the special guests arrived.
Drake exited the plane. The heat outside actually felt air-conditioned for a few moments as he descended to the asphalt. The military surroundings turned his mind toward Karin, and what she might be up against right now. At the end of the last mission he had eased her way into Fort Bragg, the home of American Special Forces, and into an intensive training program. Yes, she was British, he thought. But the commander hadn’t batted an eye. Drake just hoped Karin might find some kind of peace in the strict regime of military education.
Now, the team congregated beside the SUV. Hayden surveyed the area, perhaps searching for the hidden security. After a minute she said, “Time for the next step. Let’s find the safe house, break this stuff down and then find our pet official.”
Drake glanced at the SUV. “Shit, so now we have to cram all this gear in there too.”
“And under the tarps.” Dahl nodded at the back end. “Don’t want the local constabulary sniffing us out.”
“Speaking of local constabulary,” Alicia said as she worked. “Do we have a location for this official? And exactly how far can we push him?”
Hayden looked grim. “We know exactly where he goes and what he’s into after his shift ends, so yes. And this is our shindig, remember? Most of the nine countries with a stake in the Amazon wouldn’t like it if they knew we were here. Some of them are clearly facilitating the arranging of this bazaar. Some are protecting it. If it weren’t for Beauregard…” she trailed off for a moment. “But yes, this official has clear ties to the terrorist, Ramses. We can push him as hard as needs be.”
“All we need to extract is a location,” Dahl said. “Apart from — the Amazon.”
“Something narrower would be better,” Yorgi agreed. “I have never seen so much greenery.”
“Seriously,” Alicia spoke up. “I need an exact location. Something we can just drop in on. This creepy-crawly, caiman-frog, poisonous-disease thing ain’t my cup of tea. C’mon, other horizons await, people.”
“But you’re not running anymore,” Drake said seriously. “Remember? Take each day as it comes and enjoy it if you can. If not, face it anyway. Survive. Become stronger.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“Then you have a future. Tomorrow could bring… roses?”
Alicia almost guffawed. “Oh, really? D’ya think they’ll be poisonous?”