Kouwe nodded toward the swamp. “Like those fires.”
Nate remembered the reflected flash high in the treetops as they hiked through the forest yesterday afternoon. “What are you suggesting?”
Kouwe spoke between clenched teeth. “We have more than one threat here. Whatever lies ahead—a new regenerative compound, a cure for this plague—it would be worth billions. Others would pay dearly for the knowledge hidden here.”
Nate frowned. “And you think this other party set those fires? Why?”
“To drive us forward in a panic, like it did. They didn’t want to risk us being reinforced with additional soldiers. They’re probably using us as a human shield against the natural predatory traps set by the Ban-ali. We’re just so much cannon fodder. They’ll waste our lives until we are either spent on this trail or reach the Ban-ali. Then they’ll sweep in and steal the prize.”
Nate eyed the professor. “Why not mention this before we set off?”
Kouwe stared hard at Nate, and the answer to his question dawned in his own mind. “A traitor,” Nate whispered. “Someone working with the trackers.”
“I find it much too convenient that our satellite feed went on the fritz just as we drew close to these Ban-ali lands. Plus it then sends off a false GPS signal.”
Nate nodded. “Sending our own backup on a wild-goose chase.”
“Exactly.”
“Who could it be?” Nate eyed the others crouched in the underbrush.
Kouwe shrugged. “Anyone. Highest on the list would be the Russian. It’s his system. It would be easy for him to feign a breakdown. But then again both Zane and Ms. Fong have been hovering around the array whenever Olin has stepped away. And the O’Briens have a background tied to the CIA, who have been known to play many sides against one another to achieve their ends. Then, finally, we can’t rule out any of the Rangers.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Enough money can sway almost anyone, Nate. And Army Rangers are trained extensively in communications.”
Nate swung back around. “That leaves only Manny as someone we can trust.”
“Does it?” Kouwe’s expression was pained.
“You can’t be serious? Manny? He’s a friend to both of us.”
“He also works for the Brazilian government. And don’t doubt that the Brazilian government would want this discovery solely for itself. Such a medical discovery would be an economic boon.”
Nate felt a sick sense of dread. Could the professor be right? Was there no one they could trust?
Before he could question Kouwe’s assessment further, a scream split the night. Something huge came flying through the air. People scattered out of the way. Nate backpedaled with Kouwe in tow.
The large object landed in the middle of the crouched group. Flashlights swung toward the crumpled figure in their midst.
Anna cried out.
Transfixed in the spears of light, Corporal Warczak lay on his back, covered in blood and gore. One arm scrabbled up as if he were drowning in the spreading pool of his own blood. He tried to scream again, but all that came out was a croaking noise.
Nate stared, frozen. He could not tear his eyes from the sight of the ruined corporal.
From the waist down, Warczak’s body was gone. He had been bitten in half.
“Weapons ready!” Waxman shouted, breaking through the horrified trance.
Nate dropped to a knee, swinging his shotgun out to the darkness. Kelly and Kouwe dove to aid the downed corporal, but Nate knew it was a futile gesture. The man was already dead.
He pointed his weapon. Throughout the jungle, dark shadows flowed and shifted, jiggled by the play of the group’s flashlights. But Nate knew it wasn’t all illusion. These shadows were all flowing toward the trapped group.
One of the Rangers shot a flare into the sky. The whistling trail arced high and exploded into a magnesium brightness that cast the jungle in silver and black. The sudden brightness gave those who crept up on them reason to pause.
Nate found himself staring into the eyes of a monster, caught in the shine of the flare. It crouched in the lee of a boulder on the cliff’s escarpment, a massive creature, the size of a bull, but sleek and smooth. A cat. It studied him with eyes as black and cold as chunks of obsidian. Others lay nestled in the jungle and boulders around them. A pack of the creatures, at least twenty.
“Jaguars,” Manny mumbled in shock over his shoulder. “Black jaguars.”
Nate recognized the physique similar to Tor-tor’s, but these creatures were three times as large, half a ton each. Prehistoric in size.
“They’re all around us,” Carrera whispered.
In her words, Nate heard the echo of his father’s last radioed message: Can’t last much longer…oh, God, they’re all around us! Had this been his fate?
For another breath, neither group moved. Nate held his breath, hoping the nighttime prowlers would be intimidated by the flare’s brightness and retreat. As if this thought were shared by one of the Rangers, a second flare jetted into the sky and burst with brightness, floating down on a tiny parachute.
“Hold steady,” Waxman hissed.
The impasse stretched. The pack was not leaving.
“Sergeant,” Waxman said, “on my mark, lay a path of grenades up toward the cliffs. Everyone else, keep weapons ready. Haul ass for the centermost cave on my signal.”
Nate’s eyes flicked to the yawning cavern in the cliff face. If they could make it there, the group could be attacked from only one direction. It was defensible. Their only hope.
“Carrera, use the Bailey to cover our—”
The sharp crack of a pistol cut off the captain’s order. Off to the side, Zane stumbled backward from the recoil of his smoking gun.
One of the cats spat and leaped in rage. Other jaguars responded, growling low and bounding toward the group.
“Now!” Waxman yelled.
Kostos dropped to one knee, aimed his M-16 toward the cliffs, and fired. Carrera spun with her new weapon, blasting from her hip, laying down a swath of fire across their rear. A flashing arc of flying silver disks flew out, shredding the jungle.
One of the jaguars was caught in midleap, its exposed belly sliced open. It howled and collapsed to the jungle, writhing.
Its cries were cut off as Kostos’s grenade barrage began booming, echoing off the cliffs, deafening. Rock dust and dirt flumed up.
Shots were fired all around. Frank guarded his sister and the professor as they knelt beside the slack form of Corporal Warczak. Manny was on one knee beside Tor-tor, whose eyes were wide, hackles raised. Zane and Olin stood with Anna Fong, firing blindly into the dark.