THE ROMAN LEE SERIES
"CRIMSON ROWS"
Thirty-two
10:00AM
The peeling green paint dipped beneath the murky
surface of the Amazon river. Each of the
morning passengers causing the wooden craft to noticeably rock as they boarded. Critical gear stored in dark waterproof bags
dropped into a storage compartment while weaponry remained with their owners. Diego had noticed a large cache stored in
Gulka’s Mercedes when the trunk lid had been opened. It looked as though he could arm an assault
team given a moment’s notice.
He was offered an older AK47 along with an extra clip
of ammunition. Looking a bit tentative
he was given a crash course introduction to it.
Target practice included a capybara that had the misfortune of swimming
near some taller weeds on the opposite side of the river. Diego was surprised how little kickback there
was from the rifle becoming fairly adjusted to its recoil. Satisfied that the tattered carcass was no
longer moving he popped out the cartridge while the remnants of smoke crept out
of the barrel. Inspecting the remaining contents
of the extended clip he pushed it back into place with a confident click.
Their guide an older looking South American had deep
lines running across his forehead. An
intense expression of concern occupied his face as he looked over the
passengers seemed it might carve another. A brief heated exchange between
Diego’s boss and the man was brought to immediate resolution when a sizeable roll of U.S.
currency was displayed.
The boats motor started after a few attempts. Billowing out bluish white exhaust fumes
mixing with droplets of black river water as the propellers blades rotated
under the surface. The unique odor of it
could not be duplicated anywhere else in the world. Slowly they pulled away from the muddy clay
colored bank out into the current of earths most unforgiving waterway.
Twenty minutes on the surface of it was plenty enough
time to demonstrate the dangers of the Amazon having picked up an unwelcomed
passenger. Watching his boss check the satellite phone for battery life Diego
felt his own device in his shorts pocket deciding to take it out one last time
before any hint of a signal vanished. Logging
into Facebook his charlatan profile of Barry appeared. He had forgotten the banking information of
his latest victim having written it down back in his flat. He needed to know if
the funds from his fraudulent check deposit were available. His mark, a single mother of three had
foolishly disclosed her account number and logins for her financial
institution’s online banking. Quickly
switching back and forth between apps he pasted the necessary information
finally pressing submit. Logging in
successfully he quickly went to the balance screen looking at the transaction
history. The funds available were just
under twenty thousand dollars. His
Facebook messenger indicated he had a private message. Opening it he saw that she informed him that
fifteen hundred dollars had been withdrawn to cover her rent and groceries for
the children. Smiling to himself he
quickly replied that was fine and would see her at the airport tomorrow. She was a life saver otherwise he would have
been stuck in British Columbia yet another night. Diego quickly as fast as his thumbs would
work began setting up withdrawals to his Bitcoin accounts. Satisfied with his work he deleted the
Facebook account and opened up the Internet currency app. Pending deposits appeared for the next day
increasing his already sizeable balance.
The spoils of an accomplished thief.
As Diego returned the smartphone back into his pocket
a voice in a matter of fact tone called his name. It was heard just over the sound of the boats
motor. Sitting across from him was his
boss who was holding out a 9mm Beretta pulling back the slide
putting a round in the chamber. He was
pointing the weapon at his eye level only a few feet away. A sunken feeling overwhelmed him along with
panic but he didn’t show it. He was
debating whether or not to bail out into the water but he could not swim. As his brain was processing another
alternative scenario Marko Gulka said his name once more.
“Diego”
The Russian, expressionless as they locked in a stare
broke the stalemate by looking up drawing Diego’s attention above his
head. Slowly he tilted back to an
awaiting multi tan colored Bushmaster.
The viper was swaying over the edge of the aluminum roof in a
threatening display ready to strike at any moment. A woosh of air suddenly was felt that had
been preceded by a metallic glimmer. The
machete slicing the reptile in two sending the venomous portion onto the deck
writhing in its death throes among spattered blood. A heavy heel of a black boot belonging to one
of Gulkas hired mercs swiftly dispatched any remaining danger crushing its
head. The pistol was lowered and
returned to its proper place.
Holding his arm tightly they were approached by their
even more concerned looking South American guide. Obvious edema was evident as the comparison
between the man’s limbs said it all. He
had been bitten by the viper. The
effects of the venom’s toxin now coursing through his veins expedited by a
rapid beating heart filled with panic and adrenaline. Shaking violently, pain had gripped his
entire body as he sat down screaming in agonizing terror. They were at least a hundred miles from the
nearest hospital with the critical antivenom and that was starting back from
the dock. Now further up the river they
would have to turn around now if the man were to have a fighting chance at
life.
Diego got up from his seat looking back where moments
earlier the same assassin had its heat sensing pits filled to max capacity of
another human target. Walking over to
the man he knelt down and asked his name.
Fighting back tears he answered between gritted teeth.
“Alberto”
“Is there anything we can do to help?”
“Hospital….medicine..”
Alberto their only source of navigation and the boats
captain was now suffering the full effects of the fatal injection. Slumping over falling to the deck he began
convulsing. Uncontrollable spasms soon
followed suit as white froth leaked out the side of an open mouth.
Two sets of muscular arms reached down picking up the
Bushmaster’s only fatality of the morning casually tossing him overboard and
into the murky depths of the black water.
Diego watched as they continued up the vast waterway while the lifeless
body floated away carried by the force of the river’s current. The engine suddenly powered down as Marko
Gulka retrieved the satellite phone. The
research facility was not on any map and they needed the coordinates. He was calling Jaxon Lathos but not before he
instructed Diego to take control of the boat in his thick Russian accent.
“Diego, now you see why you are here. Flying drone to facility should have idea
where it is”
The river began to narrow ahead with an obvious fork
and a decision to make. Pressing send
the satellite phone acquired a faint signal that rang intermittently with
static.
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