'But I've never heard of them;' Nathan said, 'and I've worked with tribes throughout the Amazon:'
'And Dr. Fong, the Tellux anthropologist,' Frank said. 'She didn't recognize it either.'
'I'm not surprised. No matter how well you're accepted, a non-tribesman will always be considered pananakiri, an alien to the Indians of the region. They would never speak of the Ban-ali to you:'
Nate couldn't help but feel a bit insulted. 'But I-'
'No, Nathan. I don't mean to slight your own work or abilities. But for many tribes, names have power. Few will speak the name Ban-ali. They fear to draw the attention of the Blood Jaguars:' Kouwe pointed to the drawing. 'If you take this symbol with you, it must be shown with care. Many Indians would slay you for possessing such a paper. There is no greater taboo than allowing that symbol into a village:'
Kelly frowned. 'Then it's doubtful Agent Clark passed through any villages:'
'If he did, he wouldn't have walked out alive:'
Kelly and Frank shared a concerned look, then the doctor turned to Nathan. 'Your father's expedition was cataloging Amazonian tribes. If he had heard of these mysterious Ban-ali or had found some clue of their existence, perhaps he sought them out:'
Manny folded the sketched drawing. 'And perhaps he found them:'
Kouwe studied the glowing tip of his pipe. 'Pray to God he did not:'
A little later, with most of the details settled, Kelly watched the trio, escorted by a Ranger, cross the room and exit the warehouse. Her brother Frank was already at the portable satellite uplink to report the day's progress to his superiors, including their father.
But Kelly found her gaze following Nathan Rand. After their antagonistic exchange in the hospital, she was still slightly put off by his demeanor. But he was hardly the same oily-haired, foul-smelling wretch she had seen hauling the girl on a stretcher. Shaved and in clean clothes, he was certainly handsome: sandy-blond hair, dark complexion, steel-blue eyes. Even the way one eyebrow would rise when he was intrigued was oddly charming.
'Kelly!' her brother called. 'There's someone who'd like to say hi:'
With a tired sigh, Kelly joined her brother at the table. All around the room, final preparations and equipment checks were being finished. She leaned both palms on the table and stared into the laptop's screen. She saw two familiar faces, and a warm smile crossed her face.
'Mother, Jessie's not supposed to be up this late:' She glanced to her own wristwatch and did a quick calculation. 'It must be close to midnight.'
'Actually after midnight, hon:'
Kelly's mother could have been her sister. Her hair was as deep an auburn as her own. The only sign of her age was the slightly deeper crinkles at the corners of her eyes and the small pair of glasses perched on her nose. She had been pregnant with Kelly and Frank when she was only twenty-two, still in med school herself. Giving birth to fraternal twins was enough of a family for the med student and the young navy surveillance engineer. Kelly's mother and father never had any more children.
But that didn't stop Kelly from following in her mother's footsteps, getting pregnant in her fourth year of medical school at Georgetown. Yet unlike her mother, who remained married to the father of her children, Kelly divorced Daniel Nickerson when she found him in bed with a fellow residency student. He at least had enough decency not to contest Kelly' demand for custody of their one-year-old daughter, Jessica.
Jessie, now six years old, stood al her grandmother's shoulder, dressed in a yellow flannel nightgown with Disney's Pocahontas on the front. Hey tousled red hair looked as if she had just climbed out of bed. She waved a1 the screen. 'Hi, Mommy!'
'Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a good time with Grandma an< Grandpa?'
She nodded vigorously. 'We went to Chuck E. Cheese's today!'
Kelly's smile broadened. 'That sounds like fun. I wish I could've beer there:'
'We saved a piece of pizza for you:'
In the background, her mother's eyes rolled with the exasperation of all grandparents who've had encounters with the giant Chuck E. Cheese's rodent.
'Did you see any lions, Mommy?'
This earned a chuckle. 'No, hon, there are no lions here. That's Africa.
'How about gorillas?'
'No, that's Africa, too-but we did see some monkeys:'
Jessica's eyes grew round. 'Can you catch one and bring one home? always wanted a monkey.'
'I don't think the monkey would like that. He has his own mommy here:'
Her mother placed an arm around Jessica. 'And I think it's time we lei your mommy get some sleep. She has to get up early like you do:'
Jessica's face fell into a pout.
Kelly leaned closer to the screen. 'I love you, Jessie.'
She waved at the screen. 'Bye, Mommy.'
Her mother smiled at her. 'Be careful, hon. I wish I could be there:'
'You've got enough work of your own. Did the . . . um . . :' Her eyes licked to Jessie. '. . . package arrive safely?'
'Her mother's face drifted to a more serious demeanor. 'It cleared customs in Miami about six o'clock, arrived here in Virgiia about ten, and was trucked to the Instar Institute. In fact, your father's still over there, making sure all is in order for tomorrow's examination'.
Kelly nodded, relieved Clark's body had arrived in the States safely.
'I should get Jessie to bed, but I'll update you tomorrow night during the evening uplink. You be careful out there:'
'Don't worry. I've got a crack team of ten Army Rangers as body-guards. I'll be safer than on the streets of downtown Washington:'
'Still, you two watch each other's backs:'
Kelly glanced to Frank, who was talking to Richard Zane. 'We will.'
Her mother swept her a kiss. 'I love you.'
'Love you too, Mom:' Then the screen went dead.
Kelly closed the laptop, then slumped to a chair by the table, suddenly exhausted. She stared at the others. Her gear was already packed and stored on the Huey. Free from any responsibilities for the moment, her mind drifted back to the red serpentine tattoo wrapped around a blue palm, the symbol of the Ban-ali, the ghost tribe of the Amazon.
Two questions nagged her: Did such a tribe exist, a tribe with these mythic powers? And if so, would ten armed Rangers be enough?
CHAPTER THREE
The Doctor and the Witch
AUGUST 6, 1 1:45 1?M.
CAYENNE, FRENCH GUIANA
Louis Favre was often described as a bastard and drunkard, but never to his face. Never. The unfortunate sot who had dared now sat on his backside in the alley behind the Hotel Seine, a great decaying colonial edifice that sat on a hill overlooking the capital city of French Guiana.
A moment ago, in the hotel's dark bar, the miscreant at his feet had been hassling a fellow regular, a man in his eighties, a survivor of the dreaded penal colony of Devil's Island. Louis had never spoken to the old man, but he had heard his tale from the barkeep. As with many of the prisoners shipped here from France, he had been doubly sentenced: for every year spent in the island hellhole ten miles off the coast, the fellow was forced to spend an equal number of years in French Guiana afterward. It was a way to ensure a French presence in the colony. And as the government had hoped, most of these pitiable souls ended up staying here. What life did they have back in France after so long?
Louis had often studied this fellow, a kindred soul, another exile. He would watch the man sip his neat bourbons, reading the lines in his aged and despairing face. He valued these quiet moments.
So when the half-drunk Englishman had tripped and bumped into the old man's elbow, knocking over his drink, and then simply tottered on past without the courtesy of apology or acknowledgment, Louis Favre had gained
