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Raven pulled to a stop next to the abandoned fire truck, jumped out, and ran over to the passenger side. She pulled open the door, and her heart sank when she saw the interior.
Beth was gone. Only then did Raven notice the trail of blood leading toward the helicopter’s landing zone.
34
To get a good view of the dock where the cargo from the Magellan Sun was being unloaded, Juan and Linc had crept uphill through the jungle and crouched behind a tree where Juan could watch through a pair of binoculars. There was so much activity around the bustling dock area that they were in no danger of being heard, but the cloud of buzzing mosquitoes around their heads was almost as loud as the men below.
“I’m glad we’re wearing this greasepaint repellent,” Linc whispered as he swatted one of the flying menaces away from his face. “I swear, I’ve seen smaller vampire bats.”
Juan nodded in agreement. “They’re big enough to be registered as private aircraft. I think I saw a tail number on one of them.”
“At least it’s probably worse for those guys. The ones that are just standing around look miserable.”
Juan counted more than two dozen men in the group, and the ones standing guard were constantly smacking their arms and necks. The oil platform supply ship loomed over the tiny dock, its crane working nonstop lowering cargo over the side, where three forklifts took turns hauling the palletized cargo toward fifteen waiting trucks idling on the road, which dead-ended at a small turnabout just past the dock. Instead of eighteen-wheeled trailers, the trucks were the three-axle types, which were better for navigating narrow mountain roads. Powerful portable lamps had been set up on the dock, but the only other illumination was provided by the headlights on the trucks and forklifts.
They had already filled six trucks with crates big enough to hold dishwashers. Two men armed with assault rifles circulated amongst the trucks, but the main cluster of guards was positioned on the road leading up to the dock. They didn’t seem too worried about an attack from the jungle.
“See anyone familiar?”
Juan had been hoping Locsin was supervising this operation personally, but, so far, he was nowhere to be seen. Juan adjusted his binoculars and focused on a man bossing the others around, gesticulating wildly and shouting orders. He recognized the man immediately.
“That’s Tagaan,” he said, handing the binoculars to Linc. “The one waving his arms around like an orchestra conductor having a seizure.”
“Got him,” Linc said. “He looks like his head is going to explode every time he yells. That’s the one who tried to turn the PIG into Swiss cheese, right?”
“Before I shot him out of the sky and he walked away from the crash without even a limp.”
“I guess we should assume everyone down there has the same mutant powers.”
“Hux says that since they’re all probably taking this Typhoon drug, wounding these guys won’t do much. Seeing the effects firsthand, I have to agree.”
Linc grinned. “So don’t try to shoot the gun out of their hand?”
“Only if you want them to shoot back with the other hand. But I’d prefer to get in and out without being seen at all.”
“It looks like they’re not paying much attention to the first couple of trucks they loaded. I say we take a look inside one of them.”
“Great minds think alike,” Juan said. He keyed his radio. “Gomez, you there?”
“Read you loud and clear,” Gomez said over the comm link.
“We’re ready for our sortie. We’re going to be in the headlights of one of the trucks while we break into the cargo area of the truck in front of it. We’ll need you on overwatch to let us know when we’re in the clear.”
“All my attention is on you, since Eddie and his team are out of sight right now. You’re good to go.”
Juan led the way, creeping through the foliage as silently as a leopard on the prowl. Despite his bulk, Linc was equally quiet, making no sound, as he followed behind.
When they reached the first truck, they ducked behind the cab. The engine was still running so that the bright headlights wouldn’t drain the battery. Linc stuck a magnetized GPS tracker to the underside of the fender. Now they’d be able to follow the course of the convoy to where the cargo was being delivered.
“You’ve got a bogey approaching on the opposite side of the third truck,” Gomez said in their ears. “If he keeps to the same pattern, he’ll head around the front of the first truck and back down the row. Then you’ll have about three minutes before he returns.”
Juan sent a burst of static to acknowledge that they’d heard. He and Linc crawled under the truck, their weapons at the ready in case the guard took a look underneath.
The clomp of boots on gravel and the occasional smack of a hand against skin announced the arrival of the guard. Juan watched his feet as the man ambled around the truck, likely bored with the duty.
When he was out of earshot, Gomez said, “You’re clear.”
Juan and Linc scrambled out and examined the roller door of the truck’s cargo bed. It wasn’t locked, so Linc didn’t need to extract his set of bolt cutters. Since they were at the truck farthest along the road, they were shielded from the view of the dock by the truck behind them.
