Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Is this a poaching group?” Oakley asked.
“Poaching what? The trillions of insects and spiders around here?”
“Jaguars for pelts, eagles, macaws, or toucans to sell. Those birds are worth up to ten thousand dollars.”
“I don’t see any cages or anything. There aren’t even any jeeps or transportation.”
“True.” Oakley squinted. “But there must be an access road or trail somewhere.”
“Come on, Chief. All we need is their radio. We can notify someone of their location once we’re back on base if we think they’re up to something illegal.”
“All right.” Oakley stood, a deep frown marring his forehead. “Just…don’t let your guard down, okay.”
“Roger that.”
He and Oakley emerged through the thick brush and began to walk across the vast clearing toward the camp.
It wasn’t until they were a couple of yards away that one of the men writing on a whiteboard pointed them out.
They all stopped what they were doing and gave him and Oakley their full attention while one of the men took off in another direction.
A gray-haired man in a long white lab coat was the first to address them.
“Um, is everything all righ—” He cleared his throat when he got a closer look at their filthy hair and clothes, then Sawyer’s burns. “Um, are you okay?”
“No, we’re not,” Oakley spoke up. “Are you all Americans?”
“We are. I’m Dr. Junior Monroe, lead researcher. We’re here taking earth samples and doing climate testing.” The doctor smiled.
He and Oakley exchanged relieved glances.
“I’m Chief Aiken Oakley and this is Chief Styles Sawyer of the United States Navy. Our mission was compromised three days ago, and our team was ambushed. We’ve been MIA since, and we need to use your cell or satellite phone immediately.”
“Oh my god. Yeah, sure.” The scientist nodded to a couple of men who rushed to the tables they’d been working at and threw drop cloths over their materials. “Right this way.”
Sawyer tried to eye some of the documents and drawings, but it was all being hidden away.
What’s so secret?
“I wanna say thank you for your service.” Dr. Monroe held his hand out for them to shake. “You guys must be pretty resourceful to have survived in the Amazon for three days with no supplies.”
“I wish I could say it was a walk in the park, Doc, but it was far from it.”
“I’m sure. You’re welcome to all we have here.”
“All we need is a phone, and we’ll have our own transportation soon enough.”
Another man in jet-black cargos and a matching jacket came out of a tent set apart from the rest. Sawyer assumed he was the leader of the group.
He walked with an air of authority as two armed men followed him.
“So much for the ‘we’re armed and they’re not theory,’” he muttered out the corner of his mouth at Oakley.
“Stay cool.”
The man’s pupils were blown and his mouth was wide open, giving him a crazed look as he stretched his palm out.
“Holy hell, my associate said two MIA soldiers just wandered out of the jungle and were in need of assistance. But he looks to have understated that—”
“Sailors,” he and Oakley corrected at the same time.
“I apologize. Sailors. I’m Hank Madison, assistant director of the Rainforest Safety and Trust Foundation out of Virginia.”
“They’ve been MIA from their command for days, boss,” another scientist who’d been following them piped up.
“That’s incredible! Tell me what you need, and I’ll see you get it right away.”
“We need whatever communication device you have and the coordinates of this exact location.”
The man swallowed hard, shooting the two men behind him a quick glance that made Sawyer narrow his eyes.
“I, uh, I’m afraid our field leaders took the satellite radios with them to collect the samples for the day.” The assistant director pointed toward a small tent with communications equipment. “We only have a transmitter-receiver here to alert us if they need assistance. We wish we could afford an abundance of transmitters and satellite technology, but our organization is a nonprofit.”
“There’s nothing in this large camp that can get a signal out?” Oakley gritted.
“Unfortunately, not at this time. But our field leaders will be back before nightfall, and as soon as they do, our first priority will be to let you contact your command. I can’t imagine being presumed dead.”
“We’re not presumed dead!” Sawyer snapped. “MIA means missing in action. No military personnel is presumed dead for a couple of years.”
“Again, my apologies.” The man retreated a few steps and began to point out various tents. “We do have the means to provide for you while you wait. Food, bathing materials, and toiletries. We have a medical doctor as well.”
Now they were all staring at his burns and singed hair.
“Elliot, show the chiefs to the dining tent. I’m sure they want food and water first.”
He and Oakley glanced at each other, and without a word, they both nodded.