Island Inferno Read online

  “About four miles after the pavement ends.”

  Hedi peered up at the sky. “It sure looks like it’s going to rain.”

  Fernanda nodded. “It’s that time of day.”

  After about half a mile, the pavement ended, and they bumped along as quickly as the rutted dirt road would allow. It was in worse condition than Fernanda remembered. The jungle closed in on both sides, and soon they were traveling in a lush, dark green tunnel. Moss-covered vines hung from the trees over the road, and brightly colored land crabs scuttled away from the vehicle as it passed.

  Hedi had the window down and was hanging her head out the window. “Oooh, it smells so good here. Hey, I see a monkey!” She jabbed a finger skyward.

  Fernanda was straining to see what she was pointing at when it started raining hard. It was as if someone had turned the nozzle on a giant fire hose. Hedi pulled her head inside and quickly rolled up the window. Fernanda switched on the windshield wipers; they were of little help.

  She slowed a bit. “Great. Just great.”

  She rounded a bend and felt the tires begin to slide—just a little but enough to nearly cause her to panic. The look on Hedi’s face as she gripped the dashboard didn’t help. Enormous puddles sprang up out of nowhere, and avoiding them required so much concentration that she almost forgot why they were there.

  “Look out, Fernanda!”

  She slammed on the brakes and the car slid. It stopped abruptly with a crunch. She couldn’t even see what she’d hit. “What is it?”

  Hedi wiped at the dirty windshield. “I think you ran over a fallen log.”

  Fernanda shifted into reverse and gunned the engine. The car didn’t move. She dropped her head to the steering wheel, honking the horn. “This is bad. I forgot how poorly maintained this road is. We always brought a four-wheel drive before. This car will never make it, especially in this rain.”

  Hedi put a hand on her arm. “I’ll take a look and see if there’s any way to move the log, Fernanda. Get ready to try it again.”

  Before Fernanda could protest, Hedi opened the door and stepped into the downpour.

  She opened the driver’s side window a crack and watched through the pounding wipers as Hedi made her way to the front of the car.

  “I’m going to try to move it!” Hedi stooped and lifted, grunting like a power lifter. The log in her arms was larger than her leg. Just as quickly, Hedi dropped it again. Mud splattered in all directions, including on Hedi.

  Fernanda pulled the parking brake and stepped out into the rain. Obviously this was a two-person problem.

  “I’m sorry!” Hedi shouted over the storm.

  “Don’t be! We can do this together!”

  The log had lodged under the grille of the car. It was at least fifteen feet long, but working it back and forth together they were able to pull it out in a matter of minutes. By the time they rolled the log to the side of the road, they were both drenched and covered in mud. They slipped and slid their way back and fell into the car, laughing hysterically.

  “Are we crazy, or what?” Hedi asked.

  Fernanda shook her head. “I just hope we can get out of here.” She released the brake, put the car in reverse, and headed back toward civilization.

  Hedi wiped a spot of mud off of Fernanda’s face. “I guess we owe Zack a car wash.” She giggled.

  Fernanda laughed. “I think we’re going to need one ourselves!”

  When they got to the gate, a guard was manning the post. He stepped from the guardhouse, hunching under a plastic poncho as he motioned for them to stop.

  She rolled the window down just enough so they could talk. He peered in the window at the two wet and muddy women. He arched an eyebrow but said nothing about their near-drowned appearance.

  “Buenas tardes, señoritas.” The guard looked to be in his late teens and was wearing camouflage fatigues over a lanky frame, all covered with a cheap transparent poncho.

  Fernanda stifled a grin. “Buenas tardes.”

  “Lo siento, señorita. I’m sorry, but you must pay now to enter the park.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at him. “But we are leaving, not entering.”

  He smiled. “Yes, well, I was busy when you came in, or I would have collected the fee then.” He shrugged. “I sit here every day and get very few visitors, and the moment I’m busy …”

  She smirked at him. “Busy sleeping, perhaps?”

  He looked sheepish. “But, no. I was … er … using the latrine.”

  Fernanda and Hedi could no longer contain their laughter. To her surprise, the guard just chuckled and shook his head. She reached for her purse. “How much is the fee?”

  “Dos balboas, por favor.”

  That gave her an idea. She fished a ten from her wallet and held it up. “Have you noticed a silver Toyota Prado coming in and out recently, driven by an older gentleman?”

  He nodded. “Sí, señorita. I see him many times in the last few months. But I do not know his name.”

  She smiled. “He is my uncle, and I was trying to find him, but the road is too muddy for my little car. Do you know where he goes in the park?”

  “I would not know. My job is just to collect the entrance fee. But he is not a tourist, so I would assume that he is working at one of the batteries.”

  The batteries! She’d completely forgotten about them. Alex had told her once about the defensive gun emplacements that were built along the coastline on Fort Sherman before World War II to protect the canal.

  “So, what kind of work do they do at the batteries?”

  The boy shrugged. “I have never been inside one. But I know at least one of them is used by the Panamanian military and one is used by scientists of some kind. There has been more traffic than usual in the past few days, so I think they may be doing some construction.”

  “Ah, well, thank you very much.” She handed over the ten.

  The boy beamed from ear to ear. “It is my pleasure, señorita.” He went to the gate and lifted the barricade, waving at them as they drove away.

  The drive back to Panama City went quickly. They tried to make sense of the new information they’d garnered.

  “Edgar still owns his pharmaceutical company, I think. Maybe he’s just doing some research on a new medicine or something.”

  “But that wouldn’t explain the missing finances, would it?” Hedi asked.

  Fernanda shook her head. “No, nor would it explain his knowledge of the attack or the coincidence with the boat to Lebanon.”

  “Maybe you should talk to the authorities about this.”

  “I could, but I don’t really think they’d take it seriously at this point. There’s just not enough evidence.”

  “How about your mother?”

  “I would, but I promised Rip I wouldn’t talk about the mission details with anyone. I’ve told you, because I trust you to keep a secret. If my mother knew the story, it’d be in La Prensa by tomorrow morning. She talks to everybody.”

  Hedi shrugged. “How about Rip then?”

  Fernanda was silent for a moment. Yes, Rip would know what to do. In fact, he might be the only one who could help her make sense of the chaos in her head.

  She nodded. “Good idea, Hedi. But first I have to find him.”

  US Embassy, Panama City.

  THE DOOR TO THE second-floor embassy conference room swung shut with a muted click. Perched on the end of the conference table with his back to them, Doc Kelly was talking with Frank and Sweeney, standing by the window. From the looks on the two men’s faces, Doc was briefing them on Hogan’s condition.

  Doc turned when Rip and John entered. “Hey, Rip! Glad to see the PA let you out of there. What’d she say?”

  Rip was in no mood to talk, so he just shrugged and slumped down into one of the swivel chairs at the table.

  Coop spoke up. “The medic said he’d have a scar, but otherwise he’ll be fine.”

  Doc hesitated. “Oh … well he doesn’t look too excited about i
t.”

  Rip wanted to give a witty comeback but didn’t have the energy. “What’s the word on Phoenix?”

  Doc shook his head. “Nothing. That’s why you’re here. Me, I’m headed back to the hospital to sit with Hogan. I’ll call the embassy if anything changes.” The black medic picked up his gear and left the room.

  Sweeney spit a stream of tobacco into a paper cup. “I get the feelin’ that there’s something more going on here than just a bunch of pirates out on Gilligan’s island.”

  Coop nodded. “I think you’re right. But what? That assault force had some pretty heavy weapons. I mean, who has LAW rockets and forty millimeter grenades? And that boat had a .50 caliber machine gun mounted on it. You don’t just pick up those things at your local gun shop. Who do you think they were?”

  Still standing by the window, Frank answered. “Could be Columbians. Supposedly there are lots of narcotics traffickers around here.”

  That made sense to Rip. “Okay, but what would narcotráficos want with Phoenix?”

  Coop shrugged. “Got me. I guess we’ll have to wait for Marcel to get here.”

  “Hey, Rubio. Isn’t that Fernanda down there?”

  Rip’s head whirled around toward Frank. “What?”

  Frank was peering outside. “That girl, down by the gate. She looks a lot like Fernanda.”

  Rip moved to the window, followed by everyone but Sweeney.

  “See there.” Frank pointed. “It looks like she’s talking with the gate guard.”

  He couldn’t be completely sure, but the dark-haired woman certainly looked like her. As they watched, she turned and hurried down the street away from the embassy.

  “What’s she doing?”

  Frank frowned. “I’d say she was trying to get in and they turned her away. They don’t let just anyone into the compound.”

  “There’s one way to find out.” Rip dug in his pocket, glad he’d thought to write her number on a card in his wallet before he showered last night. “I’m gonna call her cell phone.”

  “There’s a phone over here.” Sweeney indicated a small table in the corner of the room.

  Rip had just picked up the handset when Marcel burst through the door. “Take your seats, all of you. You’ve wasted enough of my time already.”

  “Grumpy today, isn’t he?” Sweeney muttered.

  The conference table shook as Marcel’s fist slammed down on it. “Who do you think you are?! You soldiers come into my city and think you can just go around wreaking havoc?” He turned on Coop. “Do you realize how much this idiocy has cost the taxpayers, Master Sergeant?”

  Rip sighed and dropped the phone back into its cradle. He thought of Hogan and had to stifle the urge to jump over the table at the pear-shaped CIA agent and separate the man’s ears from his balding head. He looked back at Coop, who was surprisingly cool and collected.

  Frank had taken a seat and was staring at his hands. He didn’t like confrontation. Sweeney was following the exchange with an amused smirk, as if he were sitting in his living room watching WWF SmackDown.

  Coop’s voice was that of a quiet professional, a marked contrast to his opponent. “I’m the team sergeant here, Agent Bucard. I’m responsible for any decision that—”

  “You’re not in command! In the absence of Agent Phoenix, I am.” Marcel seethed. “I’m also the guy who has to clean up after you yahoos once you’ve finished setting the whole country on fire!”

  Coop stood up and leaned across the table on his fists, blue eyes boring into the station chief. “And I’m the guy who makes sure Task Force Valor isn’t jerked around by someone who doesn’t have a clue about what’s happening on the ground.”

  Marcel’s head was about to pop. “I ordered you to postpone that reconnaissance!”

  Coop’s face was set like red granite, radiating intensity. But he still didn’t raise his voice. “You also ordered in the Panamanians, who proceeded to wound one of my men and could have killed the hostages, not to mention destroying any remaining ITEB.” He returned to his seat. “The bottom line is this, Agent Bucard. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not in our chain of command. And if you disagree, I suggest you take it up with our headquarters at Fort Bragg.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” a voice boomed from the back of the room. Everyone whirled to see a burly man in blue jeans and a hunting shirt standing beside the open door. Rip gaped in amazement. “Major Williams!”

  “Who are you?” Marcel demanded.

  “Lou Williams. I’m the commander of Task Force Valor.”

  “It’s about time somebody showed up to corral these loose cannons. Your men have—”

  Williams put up a hand. “Now hold on there, partner. I understand Agent Phoenix has gone missing, and whatever has happened up to this point needs to take a backseat to finding her, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Marcel floundered some more. “But … I mean, well …”

  The major leaned toward Marcel a little, lowering his voice. “You know, if she’s not found soon, it’ll certainly reflect poorly on your station, don’t you think? So why don’t we all work together to get this problem solved?”

  The tension drained slowly from the room as Marcel began flipping through folders on the table. “Yes … yes of course.”

  Rip smirked. He’s more worried about his reputation than he is about Phoenix.

  “All right then,” Williams said. “Why don’t you tell us what we know about Phoenix.”

  Marcel sighed, collecting himself. “Very well. Agent Phoenix left here just before dawn yesterday morning to meet with one of our counterparts in the Panamanian intelligence service. She never arrived. We have no hard evidence that she was abducted—no ransom notes or claims of responsibility. But her vehicle was found parked near the site where the meeting was to take place, so we presume she made it that far. So far, there are no witnesses who can tell us what happened. But since we haven’t heard from her, I’d say it’s likely she was kidnapped.”

  Coop frowned. “How many people knew she was going to that meeting?”

  “Don’t even insinuate that I’ve compromised operational security, Master Sergeant.”

  Major Williams intervened. “Nobody’s accusing you of anything. But besides you and the other agent, could anyone else have known?”

  Marcel scratched his head. “Nobody on our end knew, but the Panamanian intelligence is notoriously corrupt. Anyone with enough money who wanted to know what was going on could probably find out.”

  Williams nodded. “Okay, then, it might not just be a random kidnapping. I assume you’ve got people looking for her?”

  “Of course, but she’s only been gone a little over twenty-four hours. We haven’t had time to shake all the bushes to see what falls out.” He gathered up his papers and moved to the door. “Major Williams, I’d like to speak to you privately, if you don’t mind.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

  As soon as the door closed, Williams broke into a smile. “Did you miss me?”

  Exclamations broke out around the room, and the major went around and shook hands with each man. Rip wasn’t normally a hugging kind of guy, but when the major embraced him, his relief in seeing the commander allayed any awkwardness he might have felt. “I thought you were going to be laid up, sir?”

  The major feigned offense. “Shoot, them sissy doctors said it’d be weeks. I’m fine. Besides, nothing like a little time in a tropical paradise to help me recuperate, right?”

  “Have you seen Buzz yet?” Coop asked.

  “Yep. Went right to the hospital from the airport. I’m getting him on a flight back to the States tonight.”

  The team spent the next half hour getting their commander up to speed on all that had happened. When they finished, the major said, “All right then, it looks like until we get a lead of some kind, we’re in a holding pattern. I don’t want you to worry about that Marcel character. I’ll deal with him. Coop, you and the men go back to the hotel and
wait for the word. I’ll work with the folks here at the embassy, and as soon as we know something, we’ll send someone for you. So get some rest and don’t go anywhere. If this thing breaks open, things are going to get hot in a hurry.”

  That was one order Rip would gladly obey.

  Thirty minutes later, John, Frank, Sweeney, and Rip walked into the lobby of the Euro Hotel. John immediately peeled off toward the computers set up along the wall. “Gonna check my e-mail. I’ll stay here if you guys want to get some chow. I’ve got some food up in my room.”

  “Tell Liz we said hi, loverboy. And give me the room key.” Frank held out his hand.

  “You’re just jealous.” John smiled as he tossed Frank the key.

  Rip caught the elevator up to his and Doc’s room on the fifth floor. Deciding to go for a swim, he started to change. While emptying his pockets, he found the card with a phone number scrawled on it.

  Fernanda! Oh, man! I almost forgot! He sat on the bed and turned the lamp on over the telephone, then began to dial her number.

  He dialed three digits, then hung up. What are you going to say? Hey, were you looking for me today? Man, if that doesn’t sound like a line.

  But what if she was looking for him? After the trauma she’d been through, why would she want to see him again?

  She told me to call her. He frowned. What’s wrong with you, Rubio? He retrieved the handset and dialed the number.

  On the fourth ring, her voicemail picked up. “Hola, por favor deja un mensaje.”

  After the beep, he said, “Hi, Fernanda, it’s Rip. I … I was just wondering how you’re doing. Give me a call tonight if you get this. I’m at the Euro Hotel, room 210.” He left the phone number for the hotel and hung up.

  After changing into his swim trunks, he pulled back the curtains over the window and looked out at the pool. The only people out there were an amorous couple who looked more interested in swapping slobber than swimming. Disgust mixed with a tinge of loneliness, and he wasn’t sure which bothered him the most.

  Good grief. I can’t get away from it.

  The phone rang. Rip dove over the bed to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Rip, it’s Fernanda.”