Catalyst (Breakthrough Book 3)(94)

“What bodies?” Juan asked.

“Those belonging to the men who did this. Chinese soldiers. They were murdered before they finished the job.”

DeeAnn peered down at Dulce, who was also staring out over the dead terrain. She wore a puzzled expression, as if not entirely understanding what she was seeing.

Smell bad.

“Yes,” DeeAnn nodded, solemnly. “The smoke smells very bad.”

Caesare and Tiewater stepped further out, scanning the area before motioning to the others to follow.

Once in the open, DeeAnn bent down and looked at the gorilla. “Dulce, it’s time to find our friend.”

She grinned excitedly. Yes. Dulce find friend.

Her large hazel eyes panned the hillside past the large cliff face and settled on the ground at her feet. A moment later, and to everyone’s surprise, she sat down in a patch of tall grass, spared from the destruction by only a few yards. She picked a wildflower and sniffed at its tiny purple petals. She picked another and another, smelling each one.

Smell. Dulce held a flower out for DeeAnn, who looked puzzled but accepted it. She sniffed and raised an eyebrow.

“What do you smell?”

Dulce grunted and shook her head. Flower smell pretty.

DeeAnn frowned and looked around at the others. She stopped on Corso, who was clearly not amused.

“I guess her sense of urgency isn’t quite the same as ours,” DeeAnn reflected out loud.

Corso didn’t reply. He simply stared at her and slowly shook his head.

She was about to apologize when Dulce abruptly stood up. Her large nostrils wiggled and she turned her head, as though listening. She then walked for several yards and sat back down in the grass.

Caesare lowered his rifle and pulled the satellite phone back out of his pocket. He dialed the number again and waited. Still busy.

It was too early to be concerned, but he needed to talk to Borger, and soon. He needed to know how much time they had before Otero and his goons arrived. Watching Dulce told him their chances of finding the capuchin first were dropping dramatically.

But there was something else. He looked solemnly past the others to the cliff face in the distance and followed it down to its base.

Finding the monkey was one thing, but Caesare and Borger both knew he was also there for another reason. Something even more important. There was something inside the base of that cliff that needed to be protected at all costs. Because if it was found, especially by someone like Otero, the world was not ready for what would come next.

Caesare was there to make sure that didn’t happen. Only five people knew what was hidden there. And if he had to, he would tell his men. Because if it came down to it, they needed to understand that no one could be allowed to find it.

No matter what.





55





The distant peak was in sight now and a frustrated Otero watched from the back of his Range Rover as their convoy made its way slowly and painfully up the narrow winding road.

His frustration was reaching new heights after multiple stops to repair the failing road. Wind and rain had eroded large sections, making it impossible for the larger trucks to pass without substantial reinforcements.

The third repair had unexpectedly given way when their trucks tried to pass, resulting in a near loss of the entire vehicle and its supplies. A loss that big would have been significant. He could live with the loss of some of his men, but fewer supplies meant less time to find the creature for which they had come.

It was becoming increasingly evident to Otero that the success of this mission was going to rely on a single person. And she was sitting in the vehicle just ahead of them, behind Captain Salazar.





Dr. Becca sat rocking back and forth with the sideways motion of the Humvee as it climbed, bouncing over what was left of the old road. Hours of driving –– coupled with having to listen to Salazar spout his fascist political views –– was making the trip truly deplorable. Instead, she tried to focus on the few positive aspects she could find. Like the vehicle’s air conditioning.

She’d met men like Salazar before. And just like them, he was an ass, plain and simple. A bureaucrat dressed in a military uniform and nothing more. Hiding within just another large government organization that was once again buckling under its own self-serving weight.

Brazil’s economy and its government were now completely imploding. Like many countries, Brazil was now in the last desperate throes of its collapse and was printing money like mad to stave off the inevitable: the long overdue cleansing of the country’s elite and political class.

To Becca, Salazar was part of the problem. Unfortunately, those in power never relinquished it without a fight. But this wasn’t her fight. She simply wanted to get back and save whatever career she might have left.