The Deserter - Nelson DeMille Page 0,110

we think is Kavak, and next morning she got on a boat and went upriver—against the current—for about an hour. So if my map reading is good, this small river—which is not named on this map—is a tributary of the Orinoco, so it would flow northwest and therefore the boat was traveling southeast… and let’s say the boat made seven knots, maybe eight… and if Carmen was correct about the trip being one hour—”

“If she was blindfolded, time seems to pass more slowly.”

“How do you know that?”

“From my last date. More importantly, I don’t think we need to get on a boat and actually go up this river. We’ll go as far as Kavak, check it out, maybe talk to some locals—”

“If we talk to some locals about a gringo who regularly lands on the airstrip and takes a boat upriver, we will probably have the same experience we had in Petare, and that was not good.”

“Okay, but—”

“We are ecotourists. Clark and Sarah Bowman, the stupidest fucking adventure travelers since Michael Rockefeller, who got eaten by cannibals in New Guinea.”

She nodded. “We can be ornithologists. Bird-watchers. Like Luis’ father.”

“Good thinking. Download a bird-watching book in your tablet, and let’s see if we can get hold of a pair of binoculars before we set out.”

“All right, but we’re not going upriver looking for this camp.”

“We’ll do—as our motto says—what has to be done.”

“What has to be done is to get out of there alive and report back to headquarters.”

“All recon missions present that problem. How much is enough? When do you push on, and when do you turn back? You don’t know until you get there.”

“Thank you for that acquired wisdom.”

“You can turn back now if you want.”

“You can stop questioning my dedication to the mission.”

“You, Ms. Taylor, have previously indicated that you’d bail out and—”

“I reserve the right to use my brains when you’re thinking with your balls.”

Brodie thought about that. Sounded reasonable. “Okay… let’s move on.” He looked at the map. “Carmen said they came to shore on the right bank, so let’s say they’d traveled about seven or eight miles on the river… then walked inland for about fifteen minutes…” He took the Sharpie and drew a large oval on the right bank that encompassed about forty square miles of dense forest. “Somewhere in here is Mercer’s camp.”

Taylor looked at the map. “Maybe. But your variables are the speed of the boat and the travel time upriver—if it was upriver and not downriver.”

“You seem to have a prejudice against my star witness.”

“She probably doesn’t know her ass from her elbow. How much did you pay her?”

“Six hundred.”

“For that kind of money, she’d tell you you were hung like a donkey.”

Brodie smiled, then looked back at the map. “Carmen also said she could see another flat mountain when she got to Mercer’s camp.” He studied the map. “Here is a big cluster of tepuis called Chimantá Massif… and here are some smaller, unnamed tepuis. So if my guess about the general location of Mercer’s camp is correct, then that matches up with these tepuis, which I’m sure could be seen from Mercer’s camp.”

Taylor focused on the map, computing the variables of speed and time from the probable starting point of Kavak, along with the terrain features. “Okay… if Kavak is correct, and if she went upriver for about an hour, and if you’re correct about the speed of a boat going against the current, then we’ve got a general idea of where this camp is.”

He assured her, “I took the land navigation course at Benning.”

“Did you pass?”

“I did. More importantly, I passed the real test in Iraq.”

She looked at him. “I have a lot of confidence in your skills. It’s your judgment that worries me.”

“Me too.”

She looked back at the map. “All right… A recon drone from Colombia or from a U.S. naval vessel could pinpoint the camp in a few hours.” She looked at Brodie. “Then a Delta team goes in and takes him.”

“Right.”

“That’s what we need to tell Colonel Dombroski.” She reminded him, “I will be present for this call.”

“As promised.”

“Good. So call him and let’s see if Worley has spoken to him, and if we’re being pulled from this case.”

“Okay, but to argue against that, we need to present Dombroski with our operational plan going forward.” He added, “We need to book a flight to the airstrip in Kavak.”

Taylor nodded, picked up her tablet, and ran a search, finding an international air charter company called Apex

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