Brodie looked at the narrow river and spotted three small boats headed downriver, toward Kavak. He wondered if that was their welcoming committee.
Collins said, “Could be Pemón. Or tourists with Pemón guides.” He advised, “The best way to travel in this terrain is by boat. Unless you’re real jungle experts.” He expanded on that: “You got venomous snakes down there. Howler monkeys, who can be aggressive, plus the big cats. Then you got bugs and slugs and all kinds of things that bite.” He added, “The mosquitoes can drive you crazy. And give you malaria.”
Brodie called out to Taylor, “Screw the bird-watching. We’re going to Aruba.”
Collins laughed. “That’s a layover I wouldn’t mind sharing with you. I could pick up my girlfriend in Caracas.”
Or find a new one in Aruba. Brodie was about to tell Captain Collins that they weren’t going back to Caracas, when Taylor called out, “Two o’clock.”
Brodie and Collins looked out the windshield. Up ahead, Brodie saw a break in the jungle canopy—a long gash that was obviously man-made.
Collins said, “A jungle airstrip.” He added, “You see them now and then. And nearby, you usually see where a patch of trees has been thinned out. That’s where they grow the coca, and close by is the lab where they make the white stuff.” He added, “You don’t want to land at those airstrips.”
Brodie asked, “Anyone ever ask you to do that?”
“I make an honest living, Mr. Bowman.”
“So do we. You want to hear about it?”
Collins stayed silent, then replied, “I think it’s time to turn for Kavak. We can talk on the ground.”
“You can turn, but we need to talk up here.”
Collins didn’t respond, but put the Cessna into a one-hundred-eighty-degree right turn.
Brodie said, “Mrs. Bowman and I are not actually with the Department of the Interior, and all I know about geology is what I learned in the eighth grade. Got a C in the course. But Mrs. Bowman and I did actually serve in the Army, me in Iraq, her in Afghanistan. I got a star in that course. Bronze. She got a silver. We both have Purple Hearts.”
“Thank you for your service.”
“You’re welcome. Now we’re working in an official capacity for our government. Yours and mine. We’re not looking for any more Purple Hearts, but we have a job to do here.”
Collins nodded as he stared out the windshield.
Taylor said, “We may—or may not—need your help.”
Brodie wanted to add, “And if you agree, she’ll show you her scars.” But that might be promising more than he could deliver.
“What are we talking about?” Collins asked.
“A few things,” Brodie replied. “The first is that we can’t go back to Caracas.” He explained, “We are hot there. So after we leave Kavak, we need to fly to Bogotá.”
Collins nodded. “Okay…” He looked at his fuel gauge. “We should have enough fuel to make it to the border… then I’d need to check my charts to see where we can refuel in Colombia to get to Bogotá.”
Brodie said, “I don’t want you to humor us just because we’re carrying Glocks. I want you to do this voluntarily.” He added, “For your country.”
“Okay… Can I see some government ID?”
“You did. Our passports. You can see more ID if you ever get to Washington. But for now, the less you know, the better.”
“Okay…”
“And this flight to Colombia cannot be logged with Venezuela’s aviation authorities or with Apex. Comprende?”
“Yeah… but I will need to file a flight plan with Colombian air traffic control and request clearance.”
“All right. Once you’ve gotten us to Bogotá, you can fly back to Caracas and say whatever you need to say. You can say we skyjacked you. Whatever.”
“Okay… I can think of something.”
“I’m sure you can. And when you get back to Caracas, you can buy something nice for your girlfriend, and you’ll have five thousand dollars to do that.” Brodie added, “And you can put the extra fuel on my credit card.”
Collins nodded.
Brodie called out to Taylor, “Let’s pay Captain Collins up front.”
Collins seemed to have no objection to that, but asked, “What… I mean, are we staying here overnight?”
“Let’s stay flexible.”
“Okay… so… you meeting somebody here?”
“We may be picking someone up. You okay with that?”
Before Collins could reply, Taylor said from the back, “We are not picking anyone up.”
“Right. That was the last mission.”
Taylor said, “There is five thousand dollars in American currency in your flight bag, Captain.”