Instinct: A Chess Team Adventure - By Jeremy Robinson Page 0,28
woman was a mystery. Not only was she small, exotic, and dangerous (not in that order) but she was also charming. She walked to a tree, reached around, and picked up a Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun. Its dual design allowed the shooter to fire both single pump-action shots and gas-powered automatic shots of up to four rounds a second.
Rook raised an eyebrow. “That’s all you got?”
“Born and raised in the jungle. This is all I need, G.I. Joe.”
“Just call me Gung Ho,” Rook said.
Somi smiled and started off into the forest.
“What’s the hurry?” Queen said, her voice cut with tension and distrust.
Somi paused and looked at each of them. “I’ve been following you since you touched down. One of the two factions you found fighting has been following you as well. The others were Khmer Rouge remnants defending their turf. They stayed put.”
King tensed. This was bad news. Why would someone follow them?
“Well, that’s just shitabulous,” Rook said. “How many men are we talking about here?”
Somi shrugged.
“You don’t know?” Rook said.
“It was dark.”
“Then how do you know they’re following us?”
Somi put her hand on Rook’s mouth. It appeared more an act of seduction than of covering his voice, but the effect was the same. Rook held his breath.
“Listen to the wind,” Somi said.
They listened. All of them. And each heard nothing but Somi’s lingering sarcasm. But in the still silence of the jungle, Sara felt them as her senses turned the distant shuffle of feet through leaves and the odors of men caught on the wind into a physical sensation. She couldn’t hear them. But she could feel them like a gentle tickle on her skin.
Strange, she thought. In the city, her senses were so overwhelmed that she rarely fully understood the world. She just focused on her destination and moved, doing her best to ignore her senses. But in this natural setting she seemed to be more aware of what she felt. She spoke without thinking. “They’re coming from the southeast.”
Sara blinked and looked at the others. They were all staring at her as though she had two heads. “What?”
“I was joking,” Somi said.
“But you said—”
Somi held up a small PDA. “Motion sensors. I spent all day yesterday lining the game trails with them.”
King squinted. Twice now Sara had warned him of danger long before he knew it was coming. In the reed field she may very well have saved his life. He turned to Somi. “Is she right?”
Somi was already looking at the PDA, her lips pursed, her forehead crisscrossed with confusion. “Dead on.”
Bishop walked up to the group, leaving the tree he’d been leaning on throughout the interchange. “We better go.” He turned and began ascending the foothill. Queen and Knight followed.
“No more object lessons,” King said to Somi.
She nodded. “The next lesson you get won’t be from me, and it won’t be an object lesson.”
She said it with such confidence, King realized she knew more than she’d revealed. “Pawn, stay with the others. We’ll bring up the rear.”
Sara nodded slowly. Her muscles, tight with tension, fought against her as she moved. The introduction to Somi had been so unnerving that it had exhausted her. The caffeine seemed to be wearing off already. She remembered King’s reprimand and pushed against the pain in her legs. The mission would be completed, no matter the cost to their bodies or psyches. They just had to succeed and survive. She left with Rook, moving fast to catch up with the others.
When the group was out of earshot, King turned to Somi. “Who are they? Who is following us?”
“I wasn’t sure at first, but after last night’s battle ended I had a chance to inspect the dead men’s uniforms. VPLA. The Death Volunteers,” Somi said with a frown. “Vietnamese special forces.”
ELEVEN
SEVEN SETS OF lungs heaved wet air in and out as the newly expanded Chess Team ran for their lives. King hadn’t made the decision to run lightly. He knew the team was tired. He knew several preferred to stand their ground. But that wasn’t their mission. If they could get in and out without facing the VPLA hot on their heels, so much the better. They posed a direct threat to his mission: to protect Pawn One.
Sara.
It was highly unlikely that even the Chess Team could protect her against such overwhelming odds, even if they themselves survived. So his only option was run like a bastard and stay ahead.
For Sara, a mixture of caffeine and adrenaline reawakened her muscles and kept