The Portal (A Delphi Group Thriller Book 2) (7 page)

Brett and the Oracle exchanged a quick glance before the Oracle looked at Zane. “Your team has already been assembled.”

Zane frowned. That’s not what he wanted to hear. “Who are you sticking me with?”

“Some familiar faces,” the Oracle replied. “And a few surprises.”

Washington, DC

ZANE TURNED AWAY from the window of the private room at the Old Ebbitt Grill, a look of surprise spreading across his face. “
Amanda Higgs?
”

The Oracle signaled the waiter to bring more drinks before turning back toward Zane. “Yes, Amanda Higgs.”

Brett looked up from his laptop. “He told you to expect a few surprises.”

The three had arrived at the famed Washington restaurant twenty minutes earlier. Not surprisingly, it had been filled with an overflow crowd of tourists and regulars. Thankfully, the Oracle had called ahead, which meant that a pretty blond hostess pulled them aside when they entered and lead them to what had become Delphi’s unofficial social retreat.

Zane smiled. “Interesting.”

“How so?”

“I just remember how adamant you were that she be taken off the team in Switzerland.”

“I’ve always been one of her biggest fans,” the Oracle said. “I’m sure you remember how glowingly I spoke of her prior to your meeting in London. But that was then and this is now.” The Oracle drained the last of his brandy and set the snifter on the table. “Besides, I think you’ll understand more fully once we’ve had a chance to discuss the operation in greater detail.”

Zane turned and looked out of the window once again. The rain was beating mercilessly on the sidewalk outside. Two women rushed by, their arms locked around each other as they huddled under a shared umbrella.

The waiter reentered the room with their drinks. After taking the fresh snifter of brandy, the Oracle gestured for Zane to take a seat.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Zane said as he sat down. “I’m a big fan too. I’m just a little surprised that you changed your tune so quickly.”

“I think you’ll find this is going to be one of the most unique operations we’ve ever taken on,” said the Oracle. “And because of that, I’ve had to think outside the box.”

“Any other surprises?”

The Oracle held Zane’s gaze for a moment. “I have some good news and some bad news. First of all, Brooks insisted on having final say in the team’s makeup, and I didn’t want to push back too hard since they agreed to hand us the reigns.”

Zane’s mouth twisted into a smirk. That didn’t surprise him at all. “That’s obviously the bad news. What’s the good news?”

“The good news is that after all was said and done, we put together an outstanding team. In fact, I think you’ll be thrilled.”

Zane let a line of bloodred Bordeaux run into his mouth then lowered his glass and smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

“Let’s put it this way,” the Oracle said. “I was pretty much able to get everyone I wanted. Brooks seemed satisfied with being a part of the process. He didn’t really override any of my choices.”

Zane raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”

The Oracle nodded at Brett. “Let’s take him through the team.”

Brett turned his laptop around so that the screen faced the other two. He reached over and used the touchpad to initiate a series of slides. After a brief pause, the first image appeared. Zane’s eyes narrowed as he studied the details. Four soldiers dressed in camo were standing in a field, M4A1 carbine rifles slung over their shoulders. Behind them was the green swath of a longleaf pine forest.

“Green Berets?” Zane asked, staring at the rifles.

The Oracle nodded. “This is your muscle. Seventh Special Forces Group. Eglin Air Force Base, Florida.”

Zane couldn’t be more thrilled. Although he was a former Navy SEAL, he had nothing but respect for his US Army counterparts. “Eglin? That makes perfect sense. Western Hemisphere specialists, if I’m remembering correctly. South America, Central America, the Caribbean.”

The Oracle took another sip of brandy. “They’re still at Eglin but will be leaving for Manaus tomorrow morning,” he said, referring to the largest city in north-central Brazil. “We thought about sending more man power—”

“No, four is perfect,” Zane said. “The smaller the footprint, the better.”

“That was our thinking as well. Counting you, we’ll have the equivalent of five Special Ops soldiers on the ground. We realize the Chinese could be there, but due to the vastness of the search area, we think the likelihood of engagement is slim.

“That being said, if you get the slightest whiff of trouble, then our liaison at Eglin tells me he can have as many as fifty boots on the ground within a few hours.”

“That quick?” Zane asked.

“He wouldn’t say how, and I didn’t ask. I’ve been told we have ships in the area, perhaps off the coast of French Guiana or Brazil. It’s possible there are a few detachments on one of those vessels. It’s also possible they’re deployed somewhere on land.”

“If the Green Berets say they will have boots on the ground in a few hours, then they will,” Zane said.

The Oracle nodded at Brett. After a new image came up, he continued. “Meet Dr. Katiya Mills, professor of anthropology at NYU.”

Zane raised an eyebrow at the attractive woman smiling back at him from the photograph. She had long brown hair that fell to her shoulders, and her lips were colored with bright red lipstick. She was Caucasian, but something about her seemed exotic. Perhaps it was her eyes. He guessed she was late thirties.

“Good grief,” he said, as he took another sip of wine. “I love you, Ross.”

“Down, boy,” replied the Oracle. “As I said, she’s a professor of anthropology. And you know what that means, Watson? It means she’s familiar with primitive cultures and will be on to your caveman tactics pretty quickly.”

Brett chuckled.

“In all seriousness, why an anthropologist?” Zane asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? Remember what it is we’re looking for down there. I realize you’re probably skeptical, but we must be prepared for any eventuality, including first contact.”

Zane swiveled his chair toward the Oracle. “If we were going down there to penetrate an indigenous tribe, then I guess I’d understand the need for an anthropologist. But contact with aliens? Isn’t that a little bit outside of their purview?”

The Oracle twirled his snifter then set it on the table. “Apparently there are many different divisions of anthropology. As you probably know, its primary focus is the study of human culture, both past and present. What you might not know is that there are some lesser-known branches that deal with less traditional subjects… even alien culture.”

“So you’re telling me she’s an alien anthropologist?”

“I’m not sure that’s the precise nomenclature, but it’s close enough.”

The Oracle nodded at Brett, and seconds later the next slide appeared. This time it was another photograph and associated bio. The man pictured seemed to be approximately the same age as Katiya Mills. He had short dark hair and a face that seemed frozen into a permanent scowl. For some reason, Zane sensed this one was going to be trouble.

“And who is Mr. Sunshine?” Zane asked.

“This is Dr. Maxwell Cameron. He’s an associate of Dr. Mills at NYU.”

“Another anthropologist?” Zane asked.

The Oracle nodded. “His specialty is linguistics.”

“The guy seems to have all the charm of a castrated weasel.”

“So glad you’re keeping an open mind, Watson. He and Dr. Mills just happen to be two of the leading anthropologists in the country. One would think you’d be thrilled to have them as part of your team.”

“Dr. Mills, yes. This one? Not so sure.”

“I should also point out something else. You mentioned indigenous people earlier. There is a high likelihood that you’ll run across indigenous Brazilians. I understand there are at least three tribes known to live in and around the target area. And if contact is made, you’ll want Dr. Cameron there. He speaks approximately a dozen indigenous languages.”

While something about the man was unsettling, Zane had to admit it made sense to bring along someone with his skill set.

Seeming to sense the need to move on, Brett brought up a picture that Zane recognized immediately.

“And that brings us to Amanda Higgs,” the Oracle said. “In studying to be an archaeologist, she completed quite a bit of coursework in anthropology. Not to mention she seems to have an uncanny knack for solving riddles.” He looked at Zane, a gleam in his eye. “As you know, we’ve already asked her to be an archaeological consultant to Delphi, and I figured this trip might help me understand whether or not we should try to bring her on as a full-time employee.”

“Assuming she’s interested, I think she’d be a wonderful addition,” Zane said.

The Oracle nodded at Brett. “Our chief technology specialist has had a few conversations with her, and he told me that if offered, she’d accept. Long story short, she accepted.”

Zane had always believed that Amanda’s knowledge of history and ancient artifacts made her a natural fit at Delphi. She didn’t have the physical tools or weapons training to work in the field, but those were things she could be taught.

The Oracle cleared his throat as the next photograph appeared. It depicted a dark-skinned man standing on a dock. Zane guessed he was in his late fifties or early sixties, although his weathered skin might make him look older than his years.

“This is Jorge Salvador. Fifty-four years old. Brazilian. He’s going to take you down the river and through the jungle. He’s been on the agency payroll for the better part of two decades. He works on an as-needed basis. When not helping the agency, he operates a cruise boat that runs out of Manaus.”

“His own cruise boat? That’s convenient.”

“I think you’ll like the accommodations,” the Oracle said.

Brett brought up a photograph of the vessel. It was a two-story affair that sat low in the water. The hull was a brilliant white, and the name
Izabel
was printed along the side near the bow. Zane had visited the Amazon years ago, and the ship seemed typical of those that ferried tourists up and down the river.

“Nice. It looks like the Cadillac of cruise boats. I guess our friend has done well for himself.”

“I hear business is good,” the Oracle replied. “I’m sure he’d do quite well even if he weren’t working for us.”

“Exactly what sort of work did he do for the agency?”

“Much of his file was redacted, but from what I could tell, it seems he spent a lot of time facilitating the movement of CIA operatives in northern Brazil. He’s even done some work in Venezuela.”

Zane took another sip of Bordeaux then asked, “Does the agency really have a significant interest in that part of the world? It seems like the drug trade would be a bit outside their interests.”

“You’re right, they aren’t concerned with drug trafficking. Their concern is all of the bad guys from around the world who are trying to set up shop down there.”

“Terror groups?”

The Oracle nodded. “Yes, the usual suspects. Al Qaeda, ISIL… even Boko Haram has a small presence there.”

Zane looked back at the photograph. “I’m assuming he has a crew?”

“There are two additional crewmen. I don’t have photographs, but they’ve been working with the agency as well. Hathaway tells me that no one knows the backwaters of the Amazon better than these three men.”

“Speaking of our destination, how big is our target area?”

“As Brett alluded to earlier, the DRA has been working with the Brazilians to pinpoint the precise location of the audio transmission. I’m told they’ve narrowed it down to a five-square-mile area. Salvador has been working on it as well. You’ll get more information in your package.”

“How much of a journey are we talking?” Zane asked.

The Oracle looked at Brett. “I’ll let Brett take it from here.”

“I’ve been in touch with Jorge Salvador,” Brett said, “and we’ve worked out a tentative itinerary.” He paused and pulled up a map of Brazil, zooming in on Manaus. Their route was highlighted in red. “We’re going to depart Manaus this Sunday evening. We’ll travel west on the Amazon for two days before turning north on a tributary.”

“At some point the water will be too shallow to take the boat any farther,” the Oracle interjected. “That’s where most of you will get off.”

“
Most
of us?” Zane asked.

The Oracle nodded. “One of the Brazilians will take the boat back down the river to a small town. Apparently Salvador owns a small dock there. His man will wait there until it’s time to go back and pick you up.”

Brett used his cursor to drag the remainder of the route into view. “As you can see, we’ll traverse the remainder of the route on foot through the jungle. Although it’s impossible to know how long it’s going to take, we should expect a minimum of two days to reach the target area.”

Zane finished the last of his wine and placed it on the table. “If my math is right, that’s four or five days to get there. That’s
deep
in the jungle.” He looked at the Oracle. “When do we leave?”

“You and Brett will board a charter tomorrow.”

People’s Liberation Army General Staff Headquarters

Beijing, China

COLONEL ZHENG LEE stood and looked out the glass window of his office. Night was falling over Beijing, and a seemingly endless river of red taillights flowed down the boulevard below him. The workday was mercifully coming to a close.

He glanced at his watch. In five minutes, his driver would pull up to the front of the building. After picking up his wife at their residence, they would be driven to the airport to catch an evening flight to Chengdu. Zheng smiled. This was the first vacation he’d had in almost a year. By this time tomorrow he’d be away from the smog and dirt of Beijing. Not to mention he’d be able to shut his wife up once and for all. She’d been nagging him for months about taking a trip, giving him a litany of other military wives who seemed to travel almost constantly.

Their destination was a mountain villa with his wife’s sister and her husband. The women would spend their days in Chengdu shopping. For his part, Zheng planned on taking hikes and spending lots of time on the porch with bottles of Tsingtao.