'Well, Doctor, get your ground team ready to move and--'
A distant gunshot sounded and echoed along the river. A scream was heard, followed by another crack of weapon fire. Mendenhall sat bolt upright at the sound and Everett and Ryan did the same.
'Sanchez, you and the good doctor get back and get our team to start packing up. I assume we have helicopters coming in to remove the dig team?'
'Yes, sir,' the lance corporal answered.
'Okay, move. We'll check out what evil deeds our guests upriver are doing.'
'Colonel Collins, may I remind you of what you just told me? You guys aren't even supposed to be here. Corporal Sanchez said you told Niles you were going fishing in Canada, so why don't you just come with us?' Leekie asked nervously.
Collins just looked at her and started pulling up the anchor. 'I'm not responsible for my junior officer Mr. Ryan not knowing the difference between east and west when he flies. Besides, what Director Compton doesn't know won't hurt him.'
When silence greeted his remark about the director of the Event Group, Collins, in between pulls to get the anchor aboard, looked at the pony-tailed Leekie.
'I kinda let it slip that you guys were here to celebrate Will's commissioning. I'm sorry,' she said, biting her lower lip.
Everett stumbled back toward the stern. 'Well, that cat's out of the bag. I guess we're in trouble again, Colonel,' he joked, but then he turned seriously to the Zodiac. 'Sanchez, you still have an Ingram in camp?'
'Yes, sir,' the lance corporal answered the question about the rapid-fire automatic machine gun hidden in a box of tools.
'Good, toss me that 9-millimeter, we may need it. Will, are you still armed?'
Mendenhall, not looking hung over at all, reached under a seat and brought out his own Beretta.
'Good. It's not much against what sounded like an AK-47, but it'll have to do.'
'You guys are nuts. Director Compton's going to hang us all,' the professor said as she untied the Zodiac just as Collins fired up the boat's motor.
'Hang on, Will; don't want to lose my new officer overboard. And grab that boom box and my CDs before they fall in the river.'
'If these oldies went into the water it would be no great loss,' Mendenhall mumbled as the boat shot forward.
'What was that?'
'I said I wouldn't want to lose this great music.'
'That's what I thought you said.'
Jack cut the large motor and let the boat's momentum carry them to the far riverbank, where it slid onto the soft brown sand with a hiss.
'Ryan, you and Will wait here while Everett and I check this thing out first.'
'Oh, come on, Colonel, you always leave us be--'
Ryan's complaint about always being left behind was cut short when another scream erupted from somewhere in the bush ahead of them. It was definitely from a young woman.
Jack and Carl jumped from the boat and quickly and silently made their way into the scrub that lined the river.
Ryan watched them disappear and had to remind himself that those two men were probably the most formidable and deadly military officers he had ever met. Colonel Collins was a former Special Ops genius and Captain Everett a highly decorated SEAL, but still, heading into an unknown situation blindly with only one 9- millimeter handgun was madness.
The African leader held a small young black woman by the back of the neck. He shook her and threatened her with a machete. Her professor lay dead at her feet. His blood had already disappeared into the hot sand of the riverbank. Another woman was dead; her body lay across a large equipment trunk, and her head was five feet away. Nearby, boy was having his wounds tended to by two Ethiopian students in one of the ten tents that had been placed around the center of their dig. Six of the mercenaries were tearing through marked and tagged objects, reading the tags hastily and then throwing them away. They were obviously looking for something in particular.
The other five men were standing in a loose circle around the Ethiopian camp. Again, the large leader shook the young black student and shouted a question. Her tearful eyes never left the hovering machete as she cringed at the pressure on her neck. As the man lifted the machete above her head, she suddenly screamed out an answer. The other students, made up of half male and half female, shouted out and cried in support of the girl. As the leader let off the pressure on the girl's neck, she straightened and spit blood in the man's face. The man spit back as the girl screamed out a long blast of profanities at him.
'Dammit, they're going to kill those kids, Jack,' Everett said from a small knoll where he and Collins had stationed themselves. 'Who are these bastards?'
'I think they're Sudanese. It sounds like they're speaking Dinka.'
'Dinka or pig latin, doesn't matter, Jack--we have to move. That girl's just about the bravest kid I've ever seen.'
'Easy, Carl. This asshole has a purpose in mind. This isn't a normal crash and raid,' Jack answered softly. 'Look at those men: they're looking for something specific,' he said as he pushed back from the rim of the knoll and lay on his back in the cooling evening.
'Our own team is here for, what, some speculation about an ancient flood washing up artifacts in the Nile basin?'
'Yeah, that's what the predig report stated. Why, what are you thinking?'
'It's just strange that these ass-bites don't look like they would know the difference between Tupperware and a Ming vase. They want something they know could possibly be here ... or maybe in the American camp. Either way, you're right, we have to do something about this. Our people won't be ready to go soon enough, so it's deal with them here or deal with them with our people on the line.'
Everett nodded as Jack slid back down the knoll, and he followed. He knew that Collins was just using the American field team as an excuse to get these murdering bastards now, and he wasn't about to let those kids get killed down there. That's what he liked about the colonel. When right was right, the 'book' went right out of the nearest window.
'And what do I do as you guys risk your life, sit here and mind the boat?' Ryan asked incredulously as Jack finished his hastily planned rescue.
'No, Mr. Ryan, you're the most important part,' Jack said as he reached into the boat and brought up the boom box and thrust it at the naval man. 'Pick some appropriate music and cause a stir on the river and just get their attention. Without a distraction our little raid will end up like the St. Valentine's Day massacre.'
'And when I get their attention?'
'Then you're welcome to improvise, Mr. Ryan,' Jack said as he, Mendenhall, and Everett hopped over the side of the boat and made their way stealthily back to the small ridge. Then he held up his right hand with three fingers raised: three minutes until they would need the distraction on the river.
Jason Ryan watched them leave, then shook his head and hoped that he improvised just a little faster than those mercenaries with the automatic rifles did.
Once they were in place on the knoll above the Ethiopian encampment, Jack removed a small knife and extended the blade. He looked from Everett to Mendenhall and then nodded.
'Don't be late, guys. When you see me move, take out the fastest-reacting threat elements. I would say the ones shooting at me would be a good start.'
'Jack, I don't mind telling you that this plan is a little risky. I mean, depending on two men who have just a tad more alcohol than the legal limit in them to hit moving targets, well--' He let the statement fall off.
'Not up to it, swabby?'
'You know, Jack, since the president promoted me two ranks, I officially outrank you?'
'Read the small print, swabby, me boss, you little man: when you take over, you can take all the risk.'
