Hidden Agendas

been fogged were still on the ground, bound in plastic wrist and ankle cufftape.

Howard, Platt, Hughes, and Winthrop moved out. There was still a big commotion at the diversion fire, less than half a mile away, and nobody seemed to be standing around gawking at the presidential compound.

'He's crazy,' Hughes said quietly to the colonel. 'He hates black people, or at least black men. He'll kill us all if he gets the chance.'

Platt moved over and tapped Hughes on the back of the head with the grenade he held.

'Ow!'

'Didn't I tell you to shut up? You burned all your goodwill up with me.'

'Why do they call it a potato masher?' Winthrop said, trying to distract the man.

'Because of the shape,' Platt said. 'See, narrow here, on the handle, but fat down here. You take your cooked potatoes and pound away at them, like this.'

He moved the grenade up and down, as if using it to smash things under the heavy end. 'See?'

God. he was crazy. Look at him grin. And what was that stain all over his skin? He couldn't possibly think he was passing for a native, could he?

2:20 a.m.

'Randall, what are they doing?' Fernandez asked.

'Still moving, Sarge. Gotta be on foot, slow as they are going.'

They were in the truck, running with the lights off, and the vehicle found every pothole in the dirt road, bouncing them around like Ping-Pong balls. Toni kept one hand on the wooden frame mounted on the back, the other hand on her kris handle. She had shoved the sheath into her belt when they'd gotten on the helicopters, although she didn't know how much luck it was bringing her at the moment.

Could be worse. She could be dead.

'Same direction as before?' Fernandez asked.

'Yep.'

'Get us in front of them, Butler, half a mile or so, then shut it down.'

'You have a plan?' Toni asked.

'Not really. The colonel's GPS unit is going somewhere at foot speed. If it's still attached to the colonel and he's free, he'll probably like a ride. If he's been captured and is being taken out to be shot or something, then he probably won't be too unhappy to see us. Either way, we need to know — hold on a second, somebody is calling. Go ahead.'

'Sergeant Fernandez, this is Martin. Beta Team is at the rendezvous — except for Colonel Howard and Lieutenant Winthrop.'

'What happened to them?'

'I don't know, Sarge. They went into the package's room and then things got real quiet. We could hear them talking, but couldn't make out what they were saying through the closed door. After a while, the colonel told us to take off.'

'Did he give a reason?'

'Negative. All he said was, he was doing some kind of negotiation.'

'Copy, Martin. Hold your ground as long as you can. We're going to collect the colonel and the lieutenant now. See if you can shoo away anybody who comes nosing around until we get back.'

'Affirmative, Sarge.'

Fernandez looked puzzled. 'Doesn't make any sense.'

'When we find Howard, we'll get him to explain it,' Michaels said.

2:25 a.m.

'Where are we going?' Howard asked. The brush around the little trail was thick, still radiating damp heat from the day. You couldn't see two feet into the forest, and could barely see the trail, even with flashlights.

'Not too much further,' Platt said. 'A half mile or so. I have my ride stashed up ahead. We get there, Hughes gives me the bank code, I check it out using the laptop, we go our separate ways.'

Platt saw Winthrop and Howard exchange quick looks.

'Well, in your shoes, I don't reckon I would much trust me neither. But I got nothing to gain by killing anybody here. And you got your guns and all, right? You get your big-time thief and most of the money back, I get paid what I'm owed and I'm gone, you don't never see me again. I'll even shut off my little surprises, once I'm safely out of here. Now don't that sound like a good deal all the way around? Except for fat boy here, but we don't really care what he thinks, do we?'

Howard didn't say anything, but what he was thinking was, Dammit, Gridley, we're about out of time here. Move your ass!

2:30 a.m.

'This doesn't make any sense,' Michaels whispered to Toni. 'That's Hughes, in the white pajamas, and I'm pretty sure the big guy behind him is Platt, wearing some kind of disguise.'

'Yeah, and Howard and Joanna both have their pistols out, but it doesn't look like they are in charge.'

'The big guy's carrying a grenade in one hand, that's why,' Fernandez said. 'Probably already armed. That's who is in charge, and that's why they don't plug him. He falls, the grenade goes boom. Jesus, it's dark out here. I wish we could use the spookeyes.'

'Why can't we?' Michaels asked.

'Flashlights will cause cutouts, they shine in our direction. Safety feature, otherwise it's like looking into the sun.'

'Hostage scenario,' Toni said. 'You have an SOP for this, don't you?'

'Yes, ma'am — only not one set up to cover being in a foreign jungle with enemy troops breathing down our necks and our ride about to take off. Standard negotiations for hostage situations are based on psychology — and hours or days to work. We don't have the time.'

Michaels, Toni, and Fernandez were in the bushes fifty yards ahead of the quartet moving toward them. The rest of Alpha Team was spread out behind the four on the trail.

'What do we do?' Toni whispered.

Fernandez said. 'Look for an opportunity. Push comes to shove, we take the bad guy down and hope for minimal casualties.'

'How much danger are Howard and Winthrop in, given the suits they are wearing?'

'Some,' Fernandez said. 'They will surely pick up damage, cuts, but the armor will stop most of a low-yield explosive shrapnel. It's the guy in the PJs and the big brown guy who are gonna get shredded for sure.'

Toni said, 'No great loss — except that Hughes might have left us some electronic bombs of his own. We can't let him die until we know for sure he didn't. And if he did, maybe it was Platt who set them up, if there are any. Can we afford to let both of them die? Don't we need at least one of them alive?'

'Yeah,' Michaels said. 'But the clock is ticking. We don't move, everybody dies.' At that moment his virgil vibrated.

It was Gridley. 'Got ‘em, Boss. Every last one of them.'

'Good work, Jay,' Alex said. 'And just in time.' Disconnecting, he looked around him. 'Jay did it. Get ready to get our people out of there now.' He stood and stepped out of the bushes.

'Alex, don't—!' Toni began.

Too late.

'Hold it right there, asshole!' Michaels yelled.

Behind him, Fernandez said to Toni, 'I'll flank right, Commander, go left!'

The four people moving up the path stopped.

'Who the hell are you?' Platt said. 'Get out here where I can — oh, hello! You're the Net Force honcho, aint'cha? What you doin' out here in the jungle, desk boy? Come to see how real men play?'

Howard made his move — he leaped, grabbed the hand holding the grenade, and squeezed it tight in both of his. 'Shoot, Winthrop, shoot!'

Startled, Joanna pointed her pistol and fired, but Platt spun, swung the colonel around one-handed like swinging a small child, and the bullet from Joanna's pistol spanged! off the colonel's back armor.

A beat later, another bullet from somewhere boomed and whistled past, not hitting anything Michaels could