“Let’s go.”
They backtracked to the jungle edge and used its cover to flank the mountain, climbing back up only when they were exactly opposite the camp area. This time Mercer led them up the hill, making sure each movement was thought out before it was executed so that he made no noise, not that anyone inside the volcano could hear them over the diesel growl of the excavators. From the uneven crest of the mountain, he could distinguish faces. The guards and the men working the machinery were all Chinese. Only the lowliest laborers were dark-skinned Panamanians.
As he watched the work, he hoped to see at least one person who seemed to be in charge, but none of the men below distinguished themselves. They worked like drones, having direction, but no control. He had the camera focused on one promising man, a bit older than some of the others, who was talking with a bulldozer driver when Lauren tapped him on his shoulder. She was pointing toward one of the tents.
He saw who she was pointing out immediately.
That’s when Mercer realized the problem with what he was seeing below him. Hatcherly was still digging holes all over the place, working in a systematic approach that would eventually encompass the entire area. There wasn’t one spot where they were focusing all their attention, not one site that had proved to be the mother lode of the Twice-Stolen Treasure. Liu hadn’t found the gold yet. He was still searching.
Meaning the ingots Mercer had seen in the warehouse came from-where?
Rather than answering questions about Hatcherly, this trip was creating even more.
He felt a tug on his pant leg from Foch who lay a little farther down the mountain’s flank. The Legionnaire had been speaking to Bruneseau and had just slipped a piece of unidentified equipment into a large cargo pouch secured to his harness. He moved closer so he could whisper to Mercer.
“Monsieur Bruneseau and I have to get into the camp,” Foch breathed. “There is one tent they are using for administration. Bruneseau needs to get inside.”
This change in plans was a complete surprise, but Mercer’s initial shock gave way to anger and his jaw tightened. When laying out their strategy, they hadn’t talked about actually going into the camp, but now he saw it had been the Frenchman’s intention all along. “Are you out of your mind?”
Foch didn’t seem to care about Mercer’s reaction. “You will wait here with Hauer until we get back.”
“We have what we need,” Lauren protested. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
“I’m sorry, Captain.” Bruneseau was unapologetic. “I have to get down there.”
“You’re jeopardizing our entire mission!”
“Getting in there
Without another word, the two men crawled into a gully scored on the inside of the caldera and began moving down toward the back of the camp. Once they reached the broad beach, they paused behind a collection of fuel drums until they could cover the open ground to the closest tent. Reaching it, they both vanished under its loose side. A minute later, they ran out the front of the dormitory tent and found more shelter near a pile of dirt twenty yards closer to the square administration tent. From there, they would need to cross another thirty yards of open ground to get to their target.
Mercer cursed. They’d never make it. He had no idea why they were taking this risk but knew it was a mistake. Feeling a strong premonition, he knew he had to act. Never having control over this sortie, he took it now.
“Corporal Hauer,” he said to the young Legionnaire. “Call the chopper and get it in here.”
“Why? What for? Foch will be back in a few minutes.”
“He’s going to be caught in a few minutes. Call the damned chopper.”
The soldier was about to protest again when his radio came to life. The volume was just high enough for Mercer to hear the whispered French.
“Foch, this is Levesque.” Levesque was the Legionnaire who had remained with the Zodiac. “I’m two hundred meters downstream from the boat. There’s an armed patrol approaching. I’m backtracking now, but if they stay along the stream bank they’re going to find the Zodiac. What do you want me to do?”
“Levesque. Hauer. Foch’s in the camp. He can’t respond.” The young Legionnaire hesitated, unsure what to do. He was a soldier, not an officer, trained to follow orders, not issue them. He was completely out of his element. “Um, ah, can you take them out?”
“Negative. There appear to be four of them maintaining good separation.”
“This is turning to shit,” Mercer said with suppressed fury. “Call in the damned chopper before it’s too late.”
“Don’t argue,” Lauren hissed when Hauer wavered. “Just do it.”
“Wait one, Levesque.” Corporal Hauer changed radio frequencies and used the helicopter’s code name. “Shepherd, Shepherd. This is Hauer. Come in. We need you. Over.”
The pilot responded instantly. “Roger, Hauer, this is Shepherd. I heard Levesque’s call and have already started engines. ETA is twenty minutes. Where’s the rest of the flock?”
“Um, all over the place. Just get airborne, we’ll figure an evac point in a minute.” He switched back to Levesque. “Helo’s inbound. Give me a sit rep.”
“They’re on me in about four minutes. I can get away but they’ll find the boat.”
Mercer grabbed the radio from the soldier. “Levesque, no matter what happens you can’t let them alert their base. If you do we’re all dead. Take out the radioman, keep them pinned for ten minutes then get the hell out of there. Head toward El Real and we’ll pick you up from the river.”
The radio clicked once in acknowledgment. The patrol must have been too close to risk his voice giving him away.
Even at a distance of a mile or more the crack of a single pistol shot was distinctive. It was answered by a rip of gunfire from an automatic weapon, and then came the smoother buzzsaw sound of a FAMAS. Levesque had engaged.
Down at the lakeshore the sound of the firefight was muffled by the trucks, but it would be only minutes before Levesque disengaged and the patrol recovered their radio and contacted the base. Foch and Bruneseau were trapped but didn’t know it yet.
Hauer began to tremble, overwhelmed with a fear that all the training he’d endured couldn’t prepare him. The others in his detachment had faced combat before. He alone was the novice and cursed that he’d volunteered to follow Foch to the lake. He noted how Lauren listened to the sounds of the battle far away and maintained her surveillance of the camp, watching to see the moment the guards were alerted.
Her presence stabilized him. He remembered the incoming helicopter.
The only place the JetRanger could get close enough to pick them up was along the rim of the mountain, an exposed area that would draw a tremendous amount of fire as soon as the aircraft appeared. And then there was his lieutenant and the spy down below. They’d never make it out. Hauer hesitated, thinking, but not finding a solution. “Ah, where do we bring in the chopper?” he asked finally.
Mercer had been considering that question since Foch and Bruneseau had slipped into the camp. “Tell him we’ll be on the lake.”
It was a calculated gamble. Once the patrol reported their contact, he hoped the last place Hatcherly’s guards would search for other soldiers was within their own perimeter. It would have been smarter just to fade into the jungle and link up with the helo later, but Mercer couldn’t abandon Foch and Bruneseau. It was clear they’d held back a critical piece to this puzzle and he was determined to find out what it was.
With no plan of his own, and seeing the conviction in Mercer’s direct gaze, the trooper relayed their intentions to the pilot, praying that the American knew how to keep them alive until the chopper could reach them.
There was a lull in the distant gun battle-an eerie moment of silence that ended with the crump of an explosion. Mercer winced, certain that Levesque had just been taken out by a grenade.
There was no going back.
Even as Lauren and Hauer watched the camp, he kept his eyes on the jungle behind them.
Movement at the edge of the underbrush caught his attention. Without waiting to see what it was, Mercer
