Amazonia

While Kouwe translated, Camera glanced at Nate with an eyebrow raised. "You've not already interrogated the man?" she whispered. "What have you been doing?"

"Doing drugs," Nate said, distracted and concentrating on the conversation with the tribesman.

Dakii finally seemed to understand. "Go away? Why? Stay here:" He pointed to his feet.

"We can't," Nate said with exasperation.

A

"We'll have to make him understand," Nate said. He turned to Camera. "In the meantime, I need you and the sergeant to gather as many of this tree's nuts as you can into packs:"

"Nuts?"

"I'll explain later. Just do it . . . please:"

She nodded, turning away. "But remember, guys . . . tick-tock:" She glanced significantly at them, then took off.

Note faced Dakii. How to tell the man that his entire homeland was about to be wiped out? It wouldn't be easy. Note sighed. "Let's keep heading to the root:"

As they continued down, Nate and Kouwe flanked the tribesman and slowly communicated the danger here. Dakii's confused expression slowly twisted into horror as he got the message. The scout's feet stumbled as he walked, as if the knowledge were a physical burden.

By now they had reached the tu

"Is there another way out of the valley?" Nate asked again.

Dakii pointed to where the tu

"Yes, I want to see the root, too, but what about the way out?"

Dakii stared at him. "Through the root," he repeated.

Nate nodded, finally understanding. Their two missions had just become one. "Show us."

Dakii crossed to the wall, glancing over the prints, then he reached out to one near the i

Nate glanced up, recalling that the flow cha

A

Nate moved to the door. Wafting out was the musk of the tree, humid and thicker, dank like the breath from an open grave. Nate readied himself and pushed through the opening.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Last Hour

7:01 PM.

AMAZON JUNGLE

As Louis's band took a rest break, he checked his watch. It was an hour before the explosion would turn the upper valley into a whirling firestorm. He focused his attention on the swamp lake ahead. The setting sun had turned the water a tarnished silver.

They were making good time. Skirting to the south of the swamp, where the jungle was thickest and the river cha

He sighed contentedly, but with a trace of disappointment. Everything was downhill from here. He always felt this way after a successful mission. Some form of postcoital depression, he imagined. He would return to French Guiana a much richer man, but money didn't buy the excitement of the last couple of days.

"C'est la vie," he said. There will always be other missions.

A small ruckus drew his attention back around.

He saw Kelly being shoved to her knees by two men. A third was on the ground a couple of yards away, rolling, cursing, clutching between his legs.

Louis strode over to them, but Mask was already there.

The scarred lieutenant pulled the moaning guard to his feet.

"What happened?" Louis asked.

Mask thumbed at the man. "Pedro reached a hand down her shirt, and she kneed him in the groin:"

Louis smiled, impressed. One hand settled to the bullwhip trophy at his waist.

He sauntered over to Kelly, now on her knees. One of her two captors had his fist tight in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her long neck. She snarled as the two men taunted her with the vilest i

"Let her up," Louis said.

The men knew better than to disobey. Kelly was yanked to her feet.

Louis took off his hat. "I apologize for the rudeness here. It won't happen again, I assure you:"

Other men gathered.

Kelly fumed. "Next time I'll kick the asshole's balls into his belly."

"Indeed:' Louis waved off his men. "But punishment is my department:' He tapped the bullwhip on his side. Earlier he had struck the woman as a lesson. Now it was time for another.

He turned and struck out with the whip, splitting the twilight with a loud crack.

Pedro screamed, covering his left eye. Blood spurted through his fingers.

Louis faced the others. "No one will harm the prisoners. Is that understood?"

There was a general sound of agreement and many nods.

Louis replaced his whip. "Someone see to Pedro's eye:'

He turned back around and saw Tshui standing near Kelly, one palm raised to the woman's cheek.

As he watched, he noticed that Tshui had wrapped her fingers around a curl of fiery auburn hair.

Ah, Louis thought, the red hair. A unique trophy for Tshui's collection.

7:O5 PM.

In the flashlight's glow, Nate noticed that the passage beyond the handprinted door was similar to the main tu

With Dakii at his side, he led A

narrowed rapidly, twisting tighter and tighter, causing the group to crowd together.

"We must be in the tree's taproot," Nate mumbled.

"Heading underground," Kouwe said.

Nate nodded. Within a few more twisting yards, the tu

Dakii pointed ahead and continued.

Nate hesitated. Strange lichens grew on the walls, glowing softly. The musk was almost overpowering, now rich with a more fecund odor. Dakii pushed on.

Nate glanced to Kouwe, who shrugged. It was encouragement enough.

As they continued forward, the root branch that ran overhead split and divided, heading out into other passageways. From the ceiling, drapes of root hairs hung, vibrating ever so gently, rhythmically swaying as if a wind blew softly through the passage. But there was no wind.

The top of Nate's head brushed against the ceiling as the tu

He shone his flashlight overhead, wary.

"What is it?" Kouwe asked.

"The root grabbed at me."

Kouwe lifted a palm to the root branch. The smaller hairs wrapped around his fingers in a clinging embrace. With a look of disgust, Kouwe tugged his hand away.

Nate had seen other Amazonian plants demonstrate a response to stimulation: leaves curling if touched, puff pods exploding if brushed, flowers closing if disturbed. But this felt somehow more malignant.