Amazonia

“Except you,” Kelly said softly.

Nathan clenched a fist. “And a lot of good that did. No further contact was ever heard.”

“Until now,” Kelly said. She gently drew him around and pointed to a small red circle he had not noticed before. She pointed to it. It lay about two hundred miles due south of São Gabriel, near the river of Jarurá, a branch of the Solimões, the mighty southern tributary of the Amazon. “This is the mission of Wauwai, where Agent Clark died. This is where we’re heading tomorrow.”

“And what then?” Manny asked.

“We follow Gerald Clark’s trail. Unlike the earlier searches, we have an advantage.”

“What is that?” Manny asked.

Nathan spoke up, leaning close to the wall map. “We’re at the end of the dry season. There hasn’t been a major storm through here in a month.” He glanced over his shoulder. “We should be able to track his movements.”

“Hence, the urgency and speed of organizing this mission.” Frank stood. He leaned one hand on the wall and nodded to the map. “We hope to follow any clues before the wet season begins and the trail is washed away. We’re also hoping Agent Clark was sound enough in mind to leave some evidence of his route—marks on a tree, piles of rock—some way to lead us back to where he had been held these past four years.”

Frank turned back to the desk and slid out a large folded sheet of sketch paper. “In addition, we’ve employed Anna Fong so we can communicate with any natives of the region: peasants, Indians, trappers, whoever. To see if anyone has seen a man with these markings pass by.” Frank unfolded and smoothed the paper. A hand-sketched drawing was revealed. “This was tattooed across Agent Clark’s chest and abdomen. We hope that we’ll find isolated folk who might have seen a man with this marking.”

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 hand-print.

“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-ali. 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 one knows this tribe. It is what’s whispered among village elders, stories passed 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 nontribesman 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 passed 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 expedition was 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 God he did not.”

* * *

A little later, with most of the details settled, 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 had seen 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 checks were 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 wristwatch 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 glasses 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 navy surveillance 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’s demand for custody of their one-year-old daughter, Jessica.