Shiva (20 page)

Had the sniper taken a single shot, Brandt would have known he survived only by
the Master
’
s
good graces. And another, more closely held reason burned in Frellan
’
s chest. He
would not allow the sniper to share in the glory of finding their Savior. That alone was reserved for Frellan
.
He alone must atone for his family
’
s sins.

But now, now here he stood
,
staring down at a tooth. The white enamel glistened brightly against the deep
-
green ground. The words
Fuck You
dug into the loam.

Usugo kicked the
thing deeper into the forest.

They were not without their resources
,
though. He turned as
one of their
tracker
s
trotted up to him.

“
There is a clear trail for the SUV heading due east.
”

Even someone with half of Frellan
’
s experience would know that there was a clear trail east
.
I
t was
not
Brandt
’
s ultimate path.
Frellan looked through the trees to the position of the moon
.
They would not have the British satellite feed for another half an hour. Brandt was in no shape to make a speedy escape from the region. This escape attempt reeked of desperation.

There was
no reason to linger here. He gave the signal to
return to the village.

Frellan
let his body shift side to side
as it navigated the treacherous road back to the village.
Closing his eyes
,
he let the rhythm bring him closer to God. He did not resist the rough course that He had put him upon. As they made the last hairpin turn into the village, Frellan opened his eyes to find
Monnie
standing
on the wooden stoop of a dilapidated hut. She bent her head in supplication as he exited the Jeep.

He
ignored her. His only want was to find a quiet hut and a subject to
express his desires upon. As
he went to pass
,
she whispered,
“
Master Frellan.
”

There was something beguiling in that soft tone. Beguiling enough for him to turn to her.
“
Yes, Monnie?
”

“
I believe I have found someone you should speak to.
”

Frellan had not even noticed the older woman huddled at Monnie
’
s feet.
You could smell the fear on the woman. Her dark eyes tried so hard not to stare at his piercings, yet they failed. He knelt beside the old woman, cupping her face. Ah, so many wrinkles to work with. Her sagging features a worthy canvas for him to work upon.

“
She says she has information if we
agree to not harm anyone in the village.
”

“
And you agreed to such terms?
”

Monnie would not meet his eye.
“
Yes, I thought it better to
—
”

He held up his hand. Her arrogance would be dealt with later. Perhaps she was used to such latitude
,
given her new position as a
w
atcher of the
w
ord. In the sanctuary
,
the title held great power. In the African forest? She would learn. What message would it send the Master if he marred that smooth skin of Monnie
’
s?

He let none of that show on his face
,
however. He simply nodded.
The woman prattled on in a smattering of French and Lingala. Frellan
,
however
,
caught the salient points. The girl had been e
ntrusted to a local witch
doctor
.

“
There,
”
she said in English
,
pointing up the mountain.

Frellan turned to
Ugudo
.
“
The
helicopter.
”
He turned to the next man.
“
Leave no witnesses
.
”

“
No!
”
Mon
nie cried out.
“
You promised!
”
she said as she went to slap his face.

Fre
llan caught her hand
in
midair.
“
No, Monnie. You promised that which you could not honor.
”
Her hand shook as shots
,
then
screams rang out
across the village. His only regret that it would all be over so quickly. Frellan usually liked to take his time. Put true effort into the taking of someone
’
s life. They deserved as much.

“
So you will never speak for me again?
”

Auburn eyes swimming in tears looked up at him. She had never been mo
re beautiful as she sobbed.
“
No
.
”

* * *

Rebecca chewed on the last of her portion, trying to suppress her gag reflex. How she wished that python tasted like chicken. It did not. Not at all. It tasted like…well
,
charbroiled snake. She would not recommend it.

But with some food, no matter how gross, in her belly, some fresh water
,
and a few more Kola seeds, Rebecca was feeling almost as good as new. And from the girl next to her
’
s beaming face, she was feeling pretty darn good as well.

“
Do you speak English?
”
Rebecca asked.

“
Un
peu
,
”
the girl responded.

Which of course was
French
for
“
a little bit.
”

And Lord knew Rebecca
’
s French was a bit atrocious. She looked over to the older man
,
who had taken to butchering the rest of the python. All twenty feet of him. While she was grateful for all that the man had done for her, Rebecca had to look away. Besides
,
he didn
’
t even seem eager to speak the native language
,
let alone English.

“
Is that your grandfather? Grand
p
è
re
?
”

The girl shook her head.
“
Just
lehre
r.
”

Teacher. Rebecca knew that term in
German
. Hell, she knew it in just about every language.

“
I am Rebecca,
”
she said
,
extending her hand. The girl took her hand, then cupped her own elbow. A sign of respect across Africa.

Even though the gesture was usually used to show reverence to elders, Rebecca mimicked the action, nodding in synch with the little girl
,
whose smile radiated nearly as brightly as the fire.

“
Vakasa,
”
she answered.

“
Thank you, Vakasa,
”
Rebecca said
,
but when the girl looked confused, she added,
“
Merci b
ea
ucoup
.
”

Vakasa shook her head
,
though.
“
Non
.
Guro
.
”

“
Thank you
”
in
Filipino
.
“
For what?
”

The girl spoke quickly in like five languages. The word
s
whizzed past so quickly that Rebecca wasn
’
t sure if she
’
d translated properly
.
For what is to come.

Rebecca
had
started to ask the girl what she meant when she heard the distinct sound of helicopter rotors. Since they were not squealing in complaint, Rebecca could only assume it was
not
Lopez.

T
hat wasn
’
t good.

As the old man grabbed his spear, he seemed to agree. Their eyes met over the fire. Then his gaze slid from Rebecca to the girl. The message obvious. I will hold them off. You get the girl out of here.

Or at least that
’
s what
s
he meant
,
because that was Rebecca
’
s plan.

* * *

Bunny watched as the screen bloomed to life. The green of the African jungle punctuated with orange blobs. A lot of them.

“
What
’
s going on?
”

Prenner leaned against his fists on the desk. His eyes scanned the data. For a remote forest
,
there
were
a lot of blips. Some much smaller than a human. Some much, much bigger. The jungle seemed abuzz with activity. Given the aftershock of a few hours ago, it wasn
’
t surprising. Then there were the human
-
sized blips. But which of those were Brandt
’
s team, the Disciples
,
and which were just villagers going about their business?

In addition to the bright oranges
,
there were stark
-
yellow markers that slowly turned a light blue. The dead. So many of them too.

“
There,
”
he said
,
pointing northeast.
“
Those four blips. They are on the move. It
’
s got to be Brandt and his men.
”

“
You didn
’
t order any air support, did you?
”
Emily asked the lieutenant.

“
No,
”
he said
,
shaking his head.
“
Everything we have is tied up in Somalia.
”

Bunny was about to
inquire
why Emily
had
asked
.
T
hen she noticed two fairly large blobs moving at
a
very fast speed toward the peek of the mountains.

“
No,
”
she groaned. They were helicopters. The damn Disciples were well outfitted. Too well outfitted. And here Brandt and the rest were traveling on foot.

“
Looks like they are converging on these three figures,
”
the tech stated as he drew a bright
-
red circle around a small hut in the middle of the jungle. That had to be Rebecca and Levont. But who was the third small blip? Bunny watched as the helicopters quickly made up the distance.
“
And it looks like those choppers are going to win the race.
”

Bunny gulped and turned to Emily.
“
And what are you going to do about it?
”

Emily grabbed Bunny
’
s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“
Pray.
”

* * *

Davidson set up his shot with patience. He would not get another like this. Not on
ly
to
take out the lead helicopter
,
but with any luck at all make sure the second chopper hit the debris.

He ignored the squeaks of the forest
’
s insects. He ignored the large frond that had draped over his leg. He ignored his own impatience.

Nothing mattered but the bull
’
s
-
eye on the Disciples
’
helicopter
’
s rear rotor. He needed their crash to be messy.