DeeAnn paused momentarily, a thoughtful look on her face. “What I’m saying is that Lucy is arguably the most important thing to have happened to us. All of us. Imagine how profound it would have been to have witnessed that incredible evolutionary moment. The single lifespan of a primate that changed everything.”
Caesare’s face was serious as he listened intently.
“Steven,” she said. “Dexter is that moment! Or at least a re-creation of it. Dexter is the modern Lucy. A primate who’s made the same leap across an evolutionary gap. We’ll never know exactly how it happened with Lucy, but we can watch it unfold with him.” She watched the expression change on Caesare’s face. “Do you see what I’m getting at? We have a chance to witness the equivalent of our evolutionary birth firsthand! It’s a scientific opportunity of almost unimaginable significance.”
Caesare was staring at her. This went way beyond anything he’d even considered. “Wow.”
DeeAnn grinned. “Wow is right. But that’s not all. It’s not just that we have the opportunity to observe this… but now we also have the technology to actually communicate with him as it’s happening!”
Caesare’s jaw suddenly dropped. If he had been surprised by her last point, he was now completely stunned. It was a moment Clay and Borger would have given anything to witness. Steve Caesare was… speechless.
DeeAnn continued staring at him while he processed it all. The moment reminded her of why, deep down, she liked him so much. Inside, beyond his gruff and boisterous exterior, Caesare was smart. Smart enough to appreciate such an earth-shattering possibility.
As they stood together in silence, the sound of voices approached from the main hallway leading out from the lab. Dulce immediately jumped from DeeAnn’s arms and ran several steps back to the glass wall. She turned and spoke excitedly but nothing could be heard with the vest’s speaker still off. A few seconds later, Juan Diaz and Lee Kenwood emerged into the warm sunlight.
Caesare turned and watched them approach. He spoke to DeeAnn in a lowered tone. “I take it that’s why Juan agreed to go back too?”
“No,” she replied. “Juan agreed to go back for a very different reason.”
24
By the time they had arrived back at the airport, the late afternoon humidity had tapered off, thanks to a heavy cloud cover crawling across the Puerto Rican sky. A strong scent of dew hung in the air, warning of approaching rain. Light drops were already forming on the taxi’s windshield as it came to a stop.
After putting the minivan into park, the taxi driver promptly pushed his door open and climbed out, sliding back the rear left side door. Caesare stepped out from the front passenger’s seat and did the same on the passenger side, allowing DeeAnn to emerge still clutching Dulce’s furry hand.
Simultaneously, Juan stepped out on the driver’s side. Each took a deep breath with the same feeling of apprehension. A sense driven home when DeeAnn felt Dulce’s grip tighten around her own hand. Apparently Dulce was feeling it too.
Neither she nor Juan spoke. Instead, they merely stood gazing at the small aircraft. Even Alison, after climbing out behind them, realized what it was. The C-12 Huron was in almost the exact same spot on the tarmac where Mateus Alves’ private jet had been just a few weeks before. A plane both DeeAnn and Juan wished they had never boarded.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
DeeAnn fought to suppress her anxiety before managing to nod her head. “I’m fine.” She swallowed hard and then grabbed her heavy backpack, slinging it over a shoulder. She tugged Dulce’s hand reassuringly and stepped forward. Behind her, Caesare leaned inside and grabbed her large bag.
Juan Diaz wasn’t so eager. He reluctantly pulled his heavily padded duffel bag from the back of the taxi, placing it on the ground. He watched as the others approached the airplane and as Caesare climbed a short set of stairs, ducking his head inside the oval doorway. Several moments later a man emerged from the darkened interior.
Juan’s mouth dropped. If Caesare was big, the man in the doorway was enormous. So large that he had to duck down and squeeze his shoulders forward just to step through. And not only was he huge, but he also looked to be made out of pure muscle.
Behind him, two more men came through the door, descending toward the tarmac behind Caesare and the hulk. The other two were both Caesare’s height, or maybe slightly shorter, and had strong yet slimmer builds. The one in the rear looked like he was barely out of his teens. What struck Juan immediately as he picked up his bag again and approached was that all three men exhibited an unspoken but very distinctive edge, just as Caesare did.
At the base of the metal stairs, Caesare introduced his men. The hulk was a man named Corso and shook Juan’s hand with what felt like an iron paw. The two others — Tiewater and the youngest looking SEAL, Anderson — seemed more approachable but with handshakes just as strong.
Juan watched as Corso’s gaze moved between each of them, stopping on Dulce. He studied the small gorilla in DeeAnn’s arms with a glowering expression, eventually turning back to Caesare when he spoke.
“We don’t have a lot of time. Have we missed anything?”
“We’re ready,” DeeAnn said, turning back toward Alison. She and Dulce both hugged their friend, then headed promptly up the stairs.
Tiewater smiled at Juan and reached to take his duffle bag. “Can I get that for you?”
“Thank you.” With heavy steps, Juan followed him up. The last thing he wanted to do was go back, but he had to admit, having Caesare and the other SEALs helped. If he had to go, he was glad it was with them.
At the base of the stairs, Alison remained next to Caesare. Together they watched Juan and DeeAnn disappear with the others, one by one, through the open door to the C-12’s cabin.
“They’re afraid to be going back,” she offered.
“Yes, they are.”
Alison looked up at him. “You’re not going to let anything happen to them, right?”
A smile spread over Caesare’s tanned jawline. “Not a chance.”
25
Later that evening, Alison watched from inside as the Embraer 190 touched down on the single runway of Mercedita Airport. There, it slowed and eventually turned toward the small terminal, located within the Vayas barrio. Outside, the rain was finally beginning to let up. Much like Miami, the smaller rainstorms usually moved through quickly and that evening was no exception.
Flight 667 was the last for the airport that night and most of the local employees had long since headed home. Alison was one in only a handful of people — just a few small families — waiting inside the terminal. She watched with an amused expression as two young children ran back and forth giggling in a game of tag.
Once the airliner began de-boarding, it took less than five minutes for Neely Lawton to appear through the double doors, pulling a large suitcase behind her. She was dressed in shorts and a dark blue tank top with no indication she was anything other than a tourist on vacation.
Alison smiled and closed the distance, meeting her with a warm hug. “How are you, Neely?”
“I’m okay, thanks. How about you?”
“Busy but good.” She glanced at the suitcase and then around the room. “Do you have any more bags?”
“Nope, this is it. Got everything I need.”
“Excellent. Follow me then.”
Once outside, the two walked briskly through the drizzling rain to a parking lot which appeared long overdue for repaving. Neely’s mouth curled into amusement when Alison stopped and opened the back of a white Nissan Leaf.