Brodie awoke with a start. His internal warning bells rang silently in his chest, and he could feel the hair beginning to rise on the back of his neck.
He could hear the low rumbling growl coming from the dog lying
outside the tent flap, and easing himself out of Tara's arms he managed to work
his way into his pants and boots. He had long moments of pain and discomfort
as he tied the bootlaces, but he managed the difficult task fairly quickly,
and lifting the shotgun he checked the load. Satisfied, he limped outside, his
stick gripped tightly in one hand and shotgun in the other.
The night was cool, the air clear and full of the scent of fresh, dew-damp foliage. He looked down at the dog, now standing gazing beyond the camp perimeter, hackles raised and fairly bristling with suspicion.
"Somethin' out there, huh, fella?" His voice was quiet, almost conversational in tone.
The dog beetled worried eyebrows at the big man and gave him the merest twitch of a tail-wag.
Brodie snorted softly.
"So much for all of that fancy shit they set up as a warning system. Crap. Nothin' but crap. C'mon, mutt. Let's go rattle a few cages."
He limped along the line of tents, still curious as to why the alarms hadn't sounded, and he could see the shadowed figures of the men standing guard around the camp. All was quiet. Yet he knew in his guts the baboons were out there, and the dog still rumbled softly to himself as he kept close to Brodie's heels.
Reaching Davis' tent he tapped softly on the canvas with the ferrule of his cane, and moments later heard Davis mutter curses to himself as he hauled his tired frame out of bed. Unzipping the tent flap he peered out, clad in nothing but boxer shorts and eyes bleary with sleep.
"Brodie? What the hell - ?"
"They're here."
Davis blinked at him.
Wha … here? How do you know? The alarms - "
"Ain't worth diddly." Brodie's face was grim. "The sonsabitches are out there, Davis, I know it. The damn dog knows it too. Look at him …"
Davis glanced at the dog, now standing gazing warily into the darkness, growling softly, hackles raised. Davis turned back to Brodie and was struck by the tension in the man's big muscular body. Davis realised Brodie was right, and couldn't suppress a shudder of fear.
"Go get Pieter. I'll get dressed …"
"Don't want to get caught out in your underwear, Davis - better be quick …" Brodie grinned despite the tension. He left Davis to get dressed and limped further down the line to van Guelder's tent … but before he got there the alarms went off.
It was bedlam. The raucous shriek of the alarms brought men tumbling dazedly from their beds, weapons at the ready as red and blue lights flashed in sequence around the camp, telling the occupants something big was beyond the perimeter.
Van Guelder barreled out of his tent, M16 at the ready, the man obviously having slept in his clothes. He saw his men heading towards him, and shouted at Lopez, his second-in-command.
"LIGHTS! Let's get some spotlights out there! On the double!!"
Lopez took four men with him, and in less than a minute brilliant, powerful beams of light penetrated the darkness around the camp.
Tara had woken when Brodie left the tent, and had dressed quickly and joined him as soon as the alarms sounded, and Brodie heard the sharp intake of breath from her as the spotlights went on.
The mirrored blink of dozens of pairs of eyes stared back in the glare. There were shrieks of alarm from huge, furred bodies as the baboons realised they had been discovered, and there came a banging noise from the truck carrying the hi-tech sensor equipment. At the same time all of the alarms stopped. The instant silence was deafening.
Van Guelder blinked in confusion for a moment, then swore. He headed off at a run towards the truck as a yell came from one of the guards and a burst of automatic fire lit up the night. There was a scream of agony, almost human in timbre, and as the spotlights continued to sweep the darkness the eyes began to blink out in pairs as the baboons turned and loped through the undergrowth away from the camp. Within moments, they had all melted into the darkness and were gone.
No one spoke for long moments, then the guard that had fired into the darkness let out a whoop of jubilation.
"I got one!! I killed one of the sonsabitches!"
The tension left the group in a collective sigh, and they gathered around as two of the guards dragged a huge, furry carcass into the middle of the camp.
Brodie poked it with the ferrule of his walking stick. The baboon was quite dead. The bullets had stitched across its chest and the beast must have been dead before it hit the ground. Brodie turned the huge head with his stick and indicated the electrical implant in the animal's skull.
"It's one of the original test animals. See? The connection for testing brain impulses."
Davis lifted the animal's paw, the long, almost human fingers wrapped around a hefty stone.
"They don't give up, do they?"
His eyes looked up at Brodie, the big man leaning the shotgun over his shoulder as he gazed into the darkness.
"Wonder what they were doing with the stones?"
"I seen 'em throwin' stones at the truck! That's why I fired an' got this one."
Davis looked up at the guard that had killed the baboon, a long, tall drink of water from Arkansas called McDermott.
"The truck? The communications truck?? How the hell did they
know?" Davis was perplexed at the primates' intelligence
.
"SHIT!!"
They heard van Guelder's explosive cursing as the big South African dropped out of the truck. Leaving a team of four to dispose of the baboon carcass they went to see what van Guelder was so upset about. The ex-policeman was fuming.
"The bastards have wrecked the SATCOM links!! And what they've done to the sensors I have no idea, but they sure as hell don't work now!"
Brodie was following the heavy cables as they snaked across the compound to the old generator room. Within minutes he found what he was looking for. Reversing his stick, he used the handle to lift the heaviest cable. He whistled softly in admiration.
"Well, I think I figured it out."
Davis, van Guelder and Tara joined him as Brodie held up the broken cable. It had been neatly severed in two.
"The others are the same. Looks like they distracted us pretty good, huh? Then they sent in a couple of others to bite through the cabling. Neat. Very, very neat."
But Tara was puzzled.
"Why didn't the alarms go off right at the beginning? The heat sensors? We never knew they were there!"
Brodie grinned.
"What's the range of that stuff? Twenty, thirty feet? Fifty? Hell, it doesn't matter. They just stayed out of range and watched for a while. Then when they figured out where all the equipment was, they just came straight to us and to hell with the sensors. Then they lobbed a few rocks at the truck, wrecked what they could and distracted us long enough to send in a couple of skirmishers to munch the cables. Easy."
Van Guelder shook his head vehemently, running his hand over his short-cropped hair.
"No, no, it can't be! They're goddamn baboons, for God's sake!! They don't have the brainpower! I know they're big bastards, but there's no way they would have the intelligence to figure that out! No way, Brodie!!"
Brodie grinned, his teeth flashing white in the artificial light.
"Doesn't take much brain power there, hoss - all they had to do was see how often men go in and out of the truck to figure out that there's somethin' important in there. Looks like they screwed it up for you good, huh?"
Davis looked at van Guelder grimly.
"How bad is it?"
Van Guelder grimaced.
"The aerials are all broken beyond repair, and the generator's got a rock sitting in what's left of its motor. A couple of the monitors are bust up … it's a fucking mess!"
"Repair time?"
"Couple of days. I can maybe get parts flown in tomorrow, but … well, the radio took a hit too. We can call from the helicopter in the morning, okay?"
Davis swore softly. Still, it couldn't be helped now. They would just have to wait until daylight, and then they could get supplies flown in by chopper.
"Okay, okay. There's nothing we can do right now, so I suggest we put on extra guards and wait 'till morning. Are they gonna come back tonight, Frank?"
Brodie thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"Nope. I don't think so. We scared the crap out of 'em, for tonight at least, so I think we'll be okay. But by tomorrow night we'd better have somethin' figured out or they're going to tear us to pieces. Oh, and van Pilsner?"
Van Guelder winced at Brodie's mispronunciation of his name, but ignored it.
Brodie continued.
"I reckon you oughtta watch the dog - he figured out those sonsabitches were out there long before any of that goddamn crap you call sensor equipment. Told you - he's a helluva Baboon Hound."
Van Guelder glared at Brodie, intent on wiping that irritating grin off the big ex-soldier's face, but Davis butted in.
"He's got a point, Pieter. The dog knew they were there. I saw it."
Van Guelder scowled … but nodded.
"All right. I'll tell the men to keep an eye on the dog. But I'm not going to lay the safety of this mission on the back of one lousy, mangy hound, Brodie."
Brodie smiled.
"That's fine with me. Just an added precaution is all." He turned and looked at Tara. "I'm goin' back to bed - we've got a long day tomorrow. You comin', Tara?"
Tara smiled back at him, seeing the confidence shine from him.
"Yeah, I'm coming. A girl needs her beauty sleep."
The comment lightened the mood of the group, and smiles broke out as they drifted back to their tents, leaving van Guelder to post extra guards and to organise the rest of the night watches.
As Tara and Brodie passed Dervla's tent they were astounded to see her appear, dressed in old cotton pyjamas and rubbing sleep from her eyes. She yawned.
"What the hell's going on?"
Tara was amazed.
"You mean you slept through all that??"
Dervla blinked.
"Through what?"
Tara looked at Brodie in disbelief, and the big man grinned.
"You have no idea, do you?"
Dervla began to look irritated.
"Look, I've slept through bombings and riots on the Shankill Road, so whatever the hell it is you're talking about it couldn't have been anywhere near as bad. So what's been going on?"
Tara opened her mouth to reply, then thought better of it. She grinned at Dervla, shook her head, and turned away. It would take too long, and she wanted to go back to bed. She slipped her arm through Brodie's and the pair of them headed back to their tent, leaving a confused Dervla standing mystified in the middle of the camp. Her voice rose to an angry pitch as they went into their tent and zipped the entrance flap shut.
"Will somebody please tell me what the hell is going on???"
*******************
Brodie stretched and winced, his leg sore after all of the activity of the day. To Tara's surprise, he stripped off completely and slid under the covers of the big bed, relaxing back into the mattress with a groan of pleasure. He patted the empty space beside him.
"Comin'?"
Tara smiled and changed back into her nightshirt, but when she slipped into bed beside Brodie he tugged at the garment.
"Take it off. I need to feel your skin next to mine, girl …" His voice was husky with tiredness, and Tara pulled the nightshirt over her head and snuggled down beside him. He turned onto his side and pulled Tara into his arms, spooning her in front of him, enjoying the feel of her naked back and smooth haunches against his skin. His right arm pillowed her head and she murmured happily, snuggling back into Brodie's body as she felt his left arm tighten around her waist, his hand lying flat on her belly. But she noticed he was trembling, and it wasn't with cold.
"Frank ..?"
She felt a soft kiss at the nape of her neck.
"It's all right, Tara. I'll be fine in a minute. Just nerves, is all. I'd forgotten how clever those things are. Get some rest, girl … I'll be all right …"
Brodie sighed as he began to relax, Tara's body warm and comforting in his arms, and he smiled as he felt her lips brush the inside hollow of his right elbow in a sleepy kiss. His left hand stroked her bare belly and Tara imperceptibly pushed her hips back into his flanks in reflex, a small murmur of pleasure coming from her.
Before he could stop himself, Brodie's hand strayed lower, cupping the soft curls at her loins, and Tara moaned, parting her thighs and lifting her leg to rest on his. She wanted him.
Brodie began to drop soft, urgent kisses on her neck and shoulder, and his hand kneaded her mound gently, Tara's little sighs and moans beginning to send jolts of sensation into his own groin. His manhood lifted and hardened, and his hips moved against her buttocks, rubbing the sensitive glans against her smooth skin. Tara smothered a soft cry of pleasure against his bicep, and Brodie gathered her to him, his right hand straying to her breast, teasing and rolling the nipple between forefinger and thumb.
Tara arched against him, her hand pushing his between her thighs and Brodie groaned softly at her need for him, and he insinuated a finger between the curls to reach the nub of pleasure within. She whimpered, knowing the other tents were close and they had to be quiet, and she caught the finger that was rubbing and teasing her sensitive clitoris and moved it faster, her hips beginning to buck into his touch.
Brodie was desperate to enter her. His penis was rigid, pressing into her buttock, and as Tara arched back into him he slid it between her thighs, searching, nudging against her, seeking entry. But he gasped as he felt Tara's other hand slip down and clasp him, teasing, rubbing, working the first drops of milky semen into the sensitive head. Her hips moved back a little, and at last … at last he felt the entrance, moist and ready for him. He pushed slowly, Tara's hand guiding his thrust, his face tight against her shoulder, no sound coming from him other than a soft, shuddering sigh as he felt her buttocks finally sit against him and he was in her to the hilt. He could feel the ridge of her cervix as he lay still, his left hand still rubbing and teasing her towards completion, Tara's body tense with need.
But he jerked as her hand slipped back to cup his testes, kneading softly, Tara's thumb resting on the base of his shaft so she could feel the pulse of him as he came inside her.
Slowly, he began to move.
At first his thrusts were shallow and languid, Tara's hand still teasing him and his own pushing her quickly towards orgasm, but he soon couldn't hold back and thrust harder and longer, Tara's leg wrapping behind his calf and pulling him into her even further. There was no sound from either of them other than soft gasps, Brodie's body rocking them both towards ecstasy.
Tara felt his muscular frame around her, within her, and his finger was driving her wild. The short gasping breath he gave at each thrust sent shivers through her body, and she felt his scrotum tighten in her hand, his penis filling and hardening even more as he came close to ejaculating. He felt so big within her at this angle, and he teased the aroused nub of nerves harder, driving her onward even as she felt the glistening shaft slide in and out of her body.
She felt the pressure build … nearer … nearer … Brodie's hand was both torment and heaven, his finger driving her over the edge.
She exploded, her orgasm ripping through her as her frame arched backwards, but Brodie imprisoned her body with his own, gently, tenderly, his own need close to completion. Tara felt him swell within her as the sparks of her overwhelming climax lessened, and her hand cupped his testes, feeling his thrusts become ragged and driving. She slipped a finger behind the quivering sac and stroked the velvet skin that lay there.
She heard a soft groan and Brodie thrust deeply twice … and then he was there.
He buried his face in the hollow of her neck as he came, his almost silent cries of pleasure sending shivers anew through Tara's sated body as she held him tight, feeling the pulse at the base of his shaft as his sperm spurted deeply, his limbs holding her to him as he ejaculated longer and harder than he had ever done before. She felt the shudder of his body and the last, spasmodic thrusts of his hips as he finished, his big hand holding her loins against him as he filled her.
They both lay quietly, recovering from the exquisite pleasure of their loving, and Tara lifted her hand from where he lay still buried within her body and reached back to rest it on Brodie's hip, stroking the smooth skin as he lay hot and spent against her, his ribs heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
But soon he recovered, his breathing slowing, and he lay still buried in her welcoming depths as he drifted towards sleep. Tara lay in his arms, happy and content, feeling the comfort of him as he spooned behind her.
"Tara …"
She smiled at the sated contentment in his baritone voice.
"Mmm-hm?"
"Don't leave me."
Oh Lord, where did that come from? Didn't he realise by now she would never leave him?
She patted his hand where it lay now stroking her belly.
"I won't, Frank. I could never leave you. I love you too much, you know that."
He sighed.
"Yeah. I know. Sorry girl, sometimes I just need to hear it, that's all."
She squeezed his hand reassuringly and heard his breathing slow and deepen. He was asleep.
Snuggling back into his chest, Tara felt his arms tighten instinctively, and she turned her head to kiss his shoulder.
And so, still joined to this man she loved, she settled down and drifted into quiet dreams.
********************
The damage the baboons had done soon became obvious as a new day dawned. The aerials were indeed wrecked beyond repair, and a couple of the monitors would have to be replaced.
Van Guelder had taken one of the humvees and two men, and disappeared out of the compound, heading out to the airstrip and the two heavily-guarded Sea Hawk helicopters. The guards had seen nothing through the night, and all had been quiet, they said, but after van Guelder had got through to Cunningham's base in Santa Teresa and ordered more equipment, he doubled the guards. One of the choppers lifted off, the pilot saying it would take a few hours to get everything together and to return, but everything would be repaired by nightfall.
At the compound Brodie was sitting at a table by the chow wagon, eating a leisurely breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. The dog lay at his feet, head on his paws but eyes bright with expectancy, watching every move of Brodie's hand as he ate and desperately hoping the big man would drop something.
Brodie felt rested and well for a change. He had slept curled around Tara all night, even when he had slid from her body and she had moaned in her sleep, missing the contact. He has shushed her back into quiet slumber and then reveled in the pleasure of her presence, feeling her back pressed against his chest and her head tucked into his arm. He had slept soundly for the rest of the night. Now, he was letting her sleep. She had had a tough few months, looking after him and making sure he healed and remained relatively sane. Brodie sighed. He had been hard on her. Too hard.
"More coffee, Mr Brodie?"
He looked up. It was Joe Petrowski, ex-marine and damned good cook. The New
Yorker was standing there with a coffee pot in one hand and a bowl of scraps
in the other.
"The name's Frank." Brodie grinned at the big, broad-shouldered man with fists like dinner plates. "You, Joe, are one helluva cook. Yeah, thanks. More coffee would be good …"
Joe finished pouring coffee and looked down at the dog, the big animal now sitting on his haunches expectantly, tail wagging.
Joe grinned.
"He's a clever dog. He got a name?" The Brooklyn twang was soft as he set the bowl of scraps on the ground and the dog tucked in, tail now wagging furiously as he wolfed down rich gravy and chunks of meat.
Brodie watched the dog as it ate, shaking his head in disbelief. Damn dog was fed better than the team.
"Nope. No name. He's just some mutt that was on the street and I saved his ass from some kids with stones. Took to hangin' around … and well, here he is." Brodie smiled. "Moron," he added, as the dog licked the steel bowl clean and then began to chase it around the ground with his nose, trying to remove every smell and scrap of flavour left in the bowl's interior. Finding nothing, he flipped the bowl over and examined the underside, and then hunted the ground for morsels that just might have escaped his attention. Finished, he looked up at Joe, eyes bright with hope.
Joe laughed, a deep, throaty laugh rich with humour.
"I hope you like fajitas, dog, because that's what we're having for supper."
The dog panted happily.
Joe wandered back to the chow wagon and the dog shunted around to drop his huge head in Brodie's lap. Brodie tried to ignore him but failed miserably, and fed a crust of toast to the animal, who took it delicately and swallowed it whole.
Brodie checked to see if anyone was watching, then rubbed the soft velvet ears. The dog narrowed his eyes in a grin.
Brodie snorted.
"Putz."
For the next ten minutes, man and dog sat silently together, contemplating the vagaries of life that brought them both to a place where there was a good chance that neither of them would make it out of there alive.
***************
It was decided to head east to the gorge for their first foray into baboon territory.
They set off in convoy, the ambulance bringing up the rear, Tara at the wheel. Dervla was in the back checking through supplies, and Brodie had been amused to see the automatic pistols both women carried at their belt.
Brodie was in the lead jeep, judging the safest way to travel and heading them off down tracks Davis hadn't even realised were there. Even van Guelder had to grudgingly admit it was a good thing Brodie had come along, otherwise they would have spent hours trying to find easy access to the remote gorge.
It took them two hours to reach the narrow entrance to the gorge, Davis noticing the deep shadows of caves sinking into the ancient cliff walls.
"They're in there." Brodie pointed with his stick at the lowest of the caves. "They'll go higher if they need to, but that's the one they prefer. They should be resting up by now, so with luck you'll get a good few of 'em if you blow the cave right now."
Van Guelder decanted from the humvee behind them and set his men to work organising explosive charges of C4, with ten-minute detonators.
"They'll have sentries. You know that, don't you?"
Brodie gazed at van Guelder, the big South African watching as his team carefully loaded the charges into bags. Van Guelder nodded and indicated two men standing beside him with sound-moderated rifles.
"Yes, I know. They'll pick them off, Brodie. Don't worry - I have everything under control. All you have to do is sit on your arse and wait, okay?"
Brodie snorted.
"Yeah, sure. Oh, before I forget - I hope you told Tara your blood-group. She'll be needing to know that before the day's through, I reckon."
Van Guelder ignored the jibe and signaled to his men. Organising themselves into a small, well-armed column, they headed off up the steep incline to the cave, skirting the jumble of rocks at the foot of the cliff.
Brodie leaned back against the hood of the jeep, Tara and Dervla joining him as they watched Van Guelder head off into the heat haze, leaving the rest of the group behind to guard the convoy.
Tara touched his shoulder.
"He's heading into trouble, isn't he?"
Brodie looked down into concerned brown eyes and nodded.
"Yep, I'd say so. Give the man his due he's good at what he does, but …"
Tara waited for him to finish.
"But what?"
Brodie frowned.
"He's underestimating what these S-O-Bs can do, Tara. He doesn't understand they're pretty goddamn' smart, and they know the lie of the land, every damned inch of it. He's walkin' into hell and he doesn't know it. I sure hope he makes it, because those things will eat him alive from the feet on up if he doesn't watch out."
Tara rubbed his shoulder in silent support. It was bugging Brodie that he couldn't go with van Guelder, and that he was basically just along for the ride. But it didn't matter in the long run, she decided. If he was here helping out it would be enough to stop the nightmares. Or at least she hoped so.
Sighing, she turned back to the ambulance and began setting out first aid equipment in readiness. If Brodie said the shit was about to hit the fan, then she wasn't about to disbelieve him.
Settling himself back against the jeep, Brodie crossed his arms and watched … and waited. It would be sooner rather than later that van Guelder was going to come face to face with the baboons of San Miguel Island, and it was then, Brodie knew, all hell was going to break loose.
**************