Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3)(45)

Alison grinned. “That’s true.”

DeeAnn shook her head. “Can you imagine how afraid she’s been? Every hour of every day, knowing what’s coming? And she’s still fighting.” She turned to Alison incredulously. “She’s eight, Alison. Eight!”

“Yet here I am. At my age, afraid of what might happen by going back into that jungle. But Sofia knows what’s going to happen. I am trying to hide…while that girl is trying to live. Do you know how small that makes me feel? Or how horrible?”

“We all have to live our own lives, Dee. We have to make our own decisions.”

DeeAnn shrugged. “And now Steve is going back, trying to protect something that may cause almost unimaginable ramifications, both good and bad. Something that any country would probably kill over. And now what if that something was actually able to help Sofia? What if it were able to help others like her?”

Alison didn’t answer.

“So, say something does happen to me, Ali. Exactly how many more lives is mine worth? And even worse, what happens to them if Steve fails…because I wouldn’t help?”

“I don’t think it’s that easy,” Alison replied softly.

“No? Then please tell me how I look someone like Sofia in the eyes from now on, after I refused to go?”

DeeAnn remained quiet, allowing the room to fall silent before she finally leaned forward and stood up.

Alison’s eyes widened. “So…are you saying, you’re going with Steve?”

“Not without talking to Juan first.”





20





The small base which housed the infamous Naval Special Warfare Development Group (NSWDG), also known as DEVGRU, was smaller than most would imagine. It was also quieter, located on fewer than fifteen acres, and hosted a dozen buildings of varying sizes. The legendary base was also less elaborate than its reputation suggested, but what it lacked in visual awe from the outside, it more than made up for inside.

Less than four miles due south of Virginia Beach, the home of NSWDG in Dam Neck, Virginia, was rumored to have an operational training budget almost surpassing that of the entire U.S. Marine Corps. This guaranteed that the team once known as SEAL Team Six had access to the most modern weapons and fighting technology available on the planet. And the training areas both inside and below ground proved it.

It was also here, in the base’s southernmost and largely nondescript building, where Steve Caesare stared down at a large 3D tabletop image before him. Resting his hands on either side, he was shaking his head slowly. This was going to be difficult.

Serious missions were usually planned by multiple SEAL operators to ensure every conceivable scenario and logistical detail was considered. But this time Caesare and his men were on their own. Under direct orders from Admiral Langford, they were instructed to get in and out with the least number of people knowing, no matter what resources it took. Whatever they needed, Langford would get.

But resources weren’t the problem. In fact, Caesare was sure that no material item in the world, short of an invisibility cloak, was going to help them here.

The large Italian mused at his last thought, knowing the DoD was actually working on that very idea. It was done by bending light with fiber optics, but it was still decades away. All he knew was that a cloak like that would be damn handy about now.

Another problem was their inability to rehearse the mission prior to execution. Rehearsals were something SEALs did without fail, followed by a thorough debrief. This was the first mission the three younger team members would have without the benefit of either, and the concern was obvious on their chiseled faces.

Facing Caesare on all sides, Corso, Anderson, and Tiewater stood around the table, coming to similar conclusions. Ignoring the fact that they’d never been sent to rescue a primate before, the logistics involved in getting in and out unseen were problematic at best. And that was putting it mildly.

An army from Brazil’s Eighth Military Region was mobilizing at its base in Belem, the nearest base to the Acarai Mountains. According to reports from Wil Borger, the Guyana government was furious over what the Chinese had done and were denying all requests asking for access to the area. And as facts inevitably began leaking out, their neighbors Venezuela and Suriname were doing the same.

Venezuela was out as an entry point for obvious reasons, and any other airport large enough for military aircraft was now asking questions too. And many of the smaller airports were as well. But even if they could make it in, ground transportation was another problem. There were only two usable roads, each on either side of the mountain, both long and treacherous. Tiago Otero and his army would be coming up the south side, leaving the only road available as the one that ended in Guyana’s capital city of Georgetown. It was the same road the Chinese had carved into the mountain to get their treasure out, and it was already populated with local agencies investigating exactly what had happened at Acarai.