Zahra smiled and looked back at her guide. Joe still looked terrified of doing what he was about to do. The man’s demeanor tore the joy out of Zahra. In a matter of minutes, she became a grown man's babysitter. She couldn’t worry about him, however. The next part of her plan wasn’t an easy one.
“I can’t. I–I will find another way around.”
Zahra paused and turned, eyeing him. He appeared to be sweating even more than before. It was obvious that this was where the pair would part ways.
With nothing else to say to the man, Zahra shrugged. “See you below.”
She let out what she figured was enough cord and took a deep breath. Then she jumped, staying as close to the cliff face as possible. Usually, she’d want to avoid the jagged rocks, but not now. Zahra needed as much distance between the tree limb and herself. As it had done with the grappling hook, gravity took hold of her weight, and she fell like a bomb. She gripped tightly and allowed the cord to swing her forward as the slack was replaced with tension. The entire event only took seconds to execute.
Zahra reached the bottom, skidding the heels of her hiking boots on the rocky terrain. Ten feet later, she stopped in an upright, seated position and popped to her feet. Glancing up, she spotted Joe just barely peeking over the edge. He waved and then disappeared. Zahra didn’t have time to return the gesture.
She grunted and stood. “And who said chivalry was dead?” Her guide in the Amazon Rainforest had just ditched Zahra. “Just swell.”
With practiced expertise, she drew in the nylon cord tight and depressed a small red button on her belt that was attached just to the left of her pants’ quick-release buckle. Without making a noise, a radio signal was sent to a receiver inside the shaft of the folding hook, triggering its release feature. As a result, the claws disengaged from the tree limb, and it fell back to earth. Zahra zeroed in on it and caught it before it could hit the stone ground. If it had been a softer landing, she would have simply allowed it to land independently.
Zahra’s grappling hook was truly a one-of-a-kind piece of ingenuity built by a friend back in the United States. She had interesting relationships with even more interesting people all over the world. One of them was a spectacle-wearing man with long white hair named Tom Colombo. In his younger years, “Tommy” had been a key member of the American military’s research and development wing, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA). His department had been tasked with innovating high-tech gear for the military’s various Special Forces divisions. One of his last official projects for the government was the grappling hook Zahra now used.
The story of Tommy’s termination still made her laugh.
One afternoon, he just snapped. The caffeine addict was already on edge — like, all the time. He had come to work, same as any other day. Moments after sitting down at his computer, something inside him just broke. He heaved his laptop at the wall, remove all his clothing, and run up and down the halls of his very public government office, shaking his milky white ass, singing, “My milkshake brings all the girls to the yard!”
A handful of his colleagues commented that they were surprised that it had taken this long for the bald, spectacled, mustachioed man to crack. Others had said that it was all a ploy to get fired so he could go out into the world and continue his work without rigorous regulations and red tape. Once Zahra had finally met Tommy, it was plain to see that the explanation leaned toward the former. His was an “odd duck,” for sure.
The area surrounding the plunge pool was deathly silent except for the powerful waterfall. Zahra didn’t like it. She secured her hook and cord to her belt and knelt, right hand on the grip of her Glock. There, she listened carefully and waited for something to emerge.
But nothing did. She was alone.
Zahra got to her feet but kept her hand on her pistol. Slowly, methodically, she turned in a circle and scanned her direct surroundings, clearing the grounds. Besides the circuitous cliff walls, plunge pool, and waterfall, there really wasn’t much to look at.
Why bring me here? Zahra thought.
There had to be more. She was missing something.
“Come on, Zahra — think! What are you missing?”
A breeze and layer of mist buffeted her. The cool water was a godsend. She closed her eyes and faced the waterfall, allowing the spray to coat her exposed skin. Once she was refreshed, her eyes snapped open, and she took off at a jog. She knew exactly why she was brought here. It was so simple, she had nearly missed it.
She and her goal — the waterfall — were on opposite sides of the plunge pool. Zahra slowed as she neared. Waterways in the jungle always needed to be given a proper berth. There was no telling what lurked beneath its surface.
Something nasty, I bet, Zahra thought, hugging the left-hand wall. She was thirty feet from the water’s edge, which, in her book, still wasn’t enough distance. As much as Zahra enjoyed her romps through the natural world, she also respected it, and in doing so, proceeded with care. Mammoth snakes, venomous frogs, insects of every variety, and of course, the ever-treacherous shadow of the jungle: the jaguar.
The big cats were the real hunter here, not people. One of the animals could easily take down a person of Zahra’s height and weight. She kept her head on a swivel just for that reason. She looked right and left, but also periodically glanced straight up. If an attack occurred, it would probably come from above. It was her guess, anyway.
The closer she got to the waterfall, the more she realized that her hypothesis was incorrect. There was no secret cave entrance behind the wall of water. It was just a wall. Deflated, Zahra moved out toward the pool and contemplated her next move. She removed her pack from her back again and procured her long-sleeve thermal. The bugs were getting bad, and she desperately needed its protection despite the horrid humidity and temperature.
She pictured her guide’s face in her mind’s eye and asked the question again.
“Why in the hell did you bring me here?”
Movement back up on the rise drew her attention. All around the plunge pool, some twenty-five-feet above her head, six men stepped into view. And they were all aiming identical AK-47s at her.
She recognized one of the gunmen.
Zahra had been betrayed.
“Hey, Joe,” Zahra said with a phony grin. “I see you’ve brought some friends to help us out, huh?”
She kept her hands down near her hips — down near her holstered gun. Zahra was a quick draw, but she doubted she’d be able to get a shot off without taking three rounds in the chest or back first.
“Drop your weapon, Ms. Kane!” Joe shouted. “As you can see, we—”
“Have the higher ground,” Zahra finished, pulling out the best Obi-Wan she had. She grinned ear to ear, except the interruption earned her nothing more than a look of confusion.
Zahra threw her hands up in frustration and let them flop back to her sides. “Oh, come on! You don’t know that?” She sighed. “Never mind… Continue.”
“I was about to say that we have you surrounded.” Joe’s eyes hardened. “And I think you should start to take your situation more seriously.”
Zahra was taking the situation seriously, though; keeping her opponent off-center couldn’t hurt. She didn’t budge an inch. She stood as still as a statue and waited. Before she gave herself up, she wanted to know why he had done what he did.
“Drop your—”
“No,” Zahra said, interrupting him.
“No?” Joe asked. “I don’t think you’re in a position to argue.”