Amazonia. Part 6

Professor Kouwe flinched.

His reaction did not go unnoticed by those in the room.

"What is it?" Nathan asked.

Kouwe pointed to the sketch paper. It delineated a complex serpentine pattern that spiraled out from a single stylized handprint.

"This is bad. Very bad:' Kouwe fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his pipe. He lifted a questioning eye at Frank.

The redheaded man nodded.

Kouwe slipped out a pouch and tamped some locally grown tobacco into the pipe, then lit it with a single match. Nathan noted his uncharacteristically trembling fingers.

"What is it?"

Kouwe puffed on his pipe and spoke slowly. "It's the symbol for the Ban-all. The Blood Jaguars:"

"You know this tribe?" Kelly asked.

The shaman blew out a long stream of smoke and sighed, then shook his head. "No oneknows this tribe.

It is what's whispered among village elders, stories pa.s.sed from one generation to another. Myths of a tribe that mates with jaguars and whose members can vanish into thin air. They bring death to all who encounter them. It is said they are as old as the forest and that the very jungle bends to their will:"

"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 pa.s.sed 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 expeditionwas 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 G.o.d he did not:"

A little later, with most of the detailssettled, 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 hadseen 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 checkswere 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 wrist.w.a.tch 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 gla.s.ses 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 navysurveillance 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<>

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 thinkit'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 Inst.i.tute. 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 theothers. 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 b.a.s.t.a.r.d 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 ha.s.sling 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 h.e.l.lhole 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 b.u.mped 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 his feet and confronted the man.

"p.i.s.s off, Frenchie," the young man had slurred in his face.

Louis continued to block the man's exit from the bar. "You'll buy my dear friend another drink, or we'llhave it out, monsieur:"

"b.u.g.g.e.r off already, you drunk w.a.n.ker:" The man attempted to shove past.

Louis had sighed, then struck out with a fist, bashing the man's nose b.l.o.o.d.y, and grabbed him by the lapels of his poor suit. Other patrons turned their attention to their own drinks. Louis hauled the rude young man, still dazed from the blow and a night of heavy drinking, through a back door into the alley.

He set to work on earning an apology from the man, not that he could really talk with a mouthful of b.l.o.o.d.y teeth. By the time Louis was done kicking and beating the man, he lay in a ruin of p.i.s.s and blood in the alley's filth. He gave the man one final savage kick, hearing a satisfying crack of ribs. With a nod, Louis retrieved his white Panama hat from atop a rubbish bin and straightened his linen suit. He stared at his shoes, ivory patent leather. Frowning, he plucked out a pristine handkerchief and wiped the blood from the tip of his shoes. He scowled at the Englishman. thought about kicking him one last time, but then studied his newly polished shoes and decided better.

Positioning his hat in place, he reentered the smoky bar and signaled the barman. He pointed to the old gent. "Please refresh my friend's drink."

The Spanish barkeep nodded and reached for a bottle of bourbon.

Louis met his gaze and wagged a finger at him.

The barman bit his lip at the faux pas. Louis always went for the best even when buying drinks for friends. Duly admonished, the man reached for a bottle of properly aged Glenlivet, the best in the house.

"Merci."With matters rectified, Louis headed for the entrance to the hotel's lobby, almost running into the concierge.

The small-framed man bowed and apologized profusely. "Dr. Favre! I was just coming to find you," he said breathlessly. "I have an overseas n holding for your attention:" He pa.s.sed Louis a folded note. "They refused to leave a message and stressed the call was urgent."

Louis unfolded the slip and read the name, printed neatly: - St. SavinBiochimique Compagnie. A French drug company. He refolded the paper and tucked it into his breast pocket. "I'll take the call:"

"There is a private salon-"

"I know where it is," Louis said. He had taken many of his business calls down here.

With the concierge in tow, Louis strode to the small cubicle beside the hotel's front desk. He left the man at the door and sat in the small upholstered chair that smelled of mold and a melange of old cologne and sweat. Louis settled to the seat and picked up the phone's receiver. "Dr. Louis Favre," he said crisply.

"Bonjour,Dr. Favre," a voice spoke on the other end of the line. "We have a request for your services:"

"If you have this number, then I a.s.sume you know my pricing schedule:"

"We do." "And may I ask what cla.s.s of service you require?"

"Premiere."

The single word caused Louis's fingers to tighten on the receiver. First cla.s.s. It meant a payment over six figures. "Location?"

"The Brazilian rain forest:"

"And the objective?"

The man spoke rapidly. Louis listened without taking notes. Each number was fixed in his mind, as was each name, especiallyone. Louis's eyes narrowed. He sat up straighter. The man finished, "The U.S. team must be tracked and whatever they discover must be obtained:'

"And the other team?"

There was no answer, just the static of the other line.