Nighthawk (NUMA Files 14)

“I’d say wear your seat belt,” Joe replied. “But I’m assuming you’ll be driving carefully.”

She offered a sad look, closed the door and waited as another of Urco’s men climbed in the passenger side to make sure she did as she was told.

Joe stepped back as the engine came to life. Still under guard, he and Paul watched as the old Land Cruiser moved off down the dirt road that led south.

Three of the eight containment units were gone, four remained in the Nighthawk and one sat in the clearing, awaiting another purchaser.

Perhaps more importantly, two of Urco’s men were gone. Two of the biggest and strongest.

As he and Paul were led back to the beach under guard, Joe glanced at the sun. It was falling toward the horizon now. The time to act was soon.

50

From her spot on the ridge, Gamay watched. Wearing high-desert camouflage, she had wrapped a tawny scarf around her head and neck to complete the disguise. She carried a modified Heckler & Koch G36 assault rifle. It had an extended barrel, a high-powered scope and two fold-out legs to steady it for long-range shooting.

This particular weapon had come from a target-shooting enthusiast they’d found in Cajamarca. It wasn’t a sniper’s rifle, but it was lightweight, accurate and the best they could procure on short notice.

Staring through the high-powered scope, she’d watched the helicopter’s arrival and departure; sighted the old Toyota, as it drove off to the south; and followed Paul and Joe, as they were marched back to the beach and placed under guard again.

Not long after that, a white Jeep Cherokee came rumbling down the path. It pulled off the road and several men climbed out of it. They wore blue flight suits. They spoke with Urco and were led over to the Air-Crane.

With each passing minute, Gamay felt the danger grow. Whatever Urco was up to, he would soon have no need for hostages.

She pulled back the sleeve of her camouflage jacket. Kurt had been silent a long time. Had he been anyone else, she’d have assumed he was drowned by now. Still, she couldn’t wait much longer.

“Come on, Kurt,” she whispered. “This is no time to be late.”

Having moved to a firing position, Gamay was more exposed, but she hadn’t seen the slightest sign of anyone looking for her.

Finally, the tiny speaker in the earbud came to life. “Gamay, this is Kurt.”

“Who else would it be,” she said. “Glad you didn’t drown. A lot has happened since you went on radio silence. By the look of it, Urco’s dispersing the mixed-state matter. Selling it off piece by piece. The Chinese landed and took off with two units. Emma drove out of here with another unit in the back of a Land Cruiser.”

“If this was about money, he could have named his price and any one of the three countries involved would have paid it. But instead he wants us all to pay—in blood.”

“What do you mean?”

“I found replicas of the fuel cells in a cave where Urco’s people were hiding. I also found a crate of Semtex that was several bricks short, but I couldn’t find a single detonator. That tells me the rest are already in place—most likely, in the fuel cells.”

“In the fuel cells,” she said. “But if he blows them up—”

“He gets a catastrophe,” Kurt said. “Which is exactly what he wants.

A catastrophe for the Americans, the Russians and the Chinese. Or, more likely, for the entire industrialized world.”

“What purpose could that possibly serve him?”

“Payback,” Kurt said. “For what the industrial powers did to the indigenous tribes of South America five hundred years ago. For what he feels they’re still doing today. By dispersing the mixed-state matter the way he is and then detonating it, he can strike a crushing blow to China, Europe, America and whoever else he blames for the fate of the native people. He can set industrialization back a thousand years in most of the world while his people are safe in their mountain pastures, living a technology-free life.”

Gamay listened as Kurt explained his theory. “The Chinese are already gone,” she said. “Emma’s out of sight as well.”

“We stop Urco first and get to them after.”

A flash of light caught Gamay’s eye. A dull whine reaching her on the wind.

She looked back through the scope. The two men in the blue flight suits were still in the Air-Crane. The rotors had begun to turn, moving slowly, reflecting the sunlight.

She could see that the cables leading to the Nighthawk had been reattached. The cargo bay had been sealed shut.