‘No sir, I would never do such a thing and I resent the accusation. No, the carrier group are there for your protection and the stability of the area. Should we deem a threat to you, or us we can take immediate action without delay.’
‘That sounds like a threat to me Mr Jarrett, and based on nothing but rumours and hearsay, no firm evidence.’
‘As you know Mr President, we do not always require firm evidence. We plan for the worst and hope for the best.’
Uncotto knew exactly what he was being threatened with, and knew not to respond in kind. The military machine that Mr Jarrett allegedly represented could be a great ally, but could bite you badly, should you provoke its wrath.
‘My country and I thank you for your offer of protection and I am sure it will not be necessary.’
The vehicles crossed over United Nations Plaza towards the secure parking area.
‘And your response to my other requests?’
‘You and your country will hear it in the United Nations.’
‘Glad to hear that you understand my point of view sir.’
‘Oh I understand perfectly Mr Jarrett, it is very clear.’
The vehicles came to a gentle stop in the arrival area of the United Nations building. Jarrett’s security team appeared outside the window as he exited the car. Uncotto instructed his team to wait, and watched as Jarrett waved to the few official journalists assembled outside. He made a phone call and moved up the steps to the entrance hall. He knew that Jarrett and his colleagues would not like his response. The speech he was about to give would have serious repercussions.
TWENTY ONE
At first light Jacob was loading up the canoe. He had decided late the previous night to proceed up river to the crater wall, much to the surprise of his team. There were objections from Andy and Kevin, but Jacob told them to stay in camp, and study the artefacts and documents already on site. Kevin politely requested to accompany Jacob to record and photograph the visit. Laurent also insisted on coming, Jacob thought that his previous experience, although dismissive and fleeting would benefit the team. Marianne chose to stay on the Arcadia, probably too scared of Katherine to venture back into camp. Evelyn and Michael wanted to come, but the volume of work coming from the dig site would not permit it. Jacob had given his phone to Michael and returned to the lab to retrieve it. The usual cluttered desk space a welcome sight, ‘See you are keeping the place how I like it Michael.’
‘There is a system Jacob, you know that.’
‘And what would that system be?’
‘I chuck stuff anywhere, and then waste time looking for it.’
‘Sounds about right. Have you fixed my phone? It cut out yesterday when Archer called.’
‘Well it is not the phone that is the problem, all working fine. But I found something unexpected.’
Michael was telling Jacob about his find when Katherine entered the lab, ‘Kevin tells me that I have been conscripted for your little trek upriver?’
Jacob turned to face her, and Michael butted in, ‘You are Jacob’s guest of honour.’
‘Really, since when Jacob?’
‘Well you found the site, only right that you visit it. Only downside is that I have to bring Christophe.’
Katherine decided that tolerating Laurent was acceptable, Jacob would not allow him near her, not to protect her, but to stop her killing him.
‘Michael I will tell Christophe to let you check his phone, in case it has the same issue as mine, okay?’
‘No problem Jacob, I will see to it straight away.’
Michael went down to the boats to speak to Laurent.
The team were lightly armed, the amount of bandits in the border area had increased; the war on drugs reached everywhere.
The four canoes were loaded up with enough supplies for three days, three people in each canoe, plus the local driver. Jacob trusted the locals; they had come down from Burbon and knew all the river area. After a swift breakfast they set off, waving goodbye to Teddy who was working on The Wasp, they could not take it up river, engine trouble, he was swearing at it as they passed, unaware of their departure.
Jacob told the group they were local advisors, and had knowledge of the crater wall’s history and would be glad to assist them in their exploration. Laurent questioned their presence with concerns over their validity as experts. In reality he was concerned about whether they would reveal what he suspected about the crater.
The two people had surprised the group; the first a dark skinned man named Osvaldo Rodrigo, over fifty, but of athletic build with deep set brown eyes. He was probably of Ameri-Indian descent one of the many slaves that had escaped to Colombia and Ecuador, settled with the local population. Their legacy was a group that would look just at home in Los Angeles or Chicago as the South American jungle. The second person was a young boy called Luis Alfredo, early twenties, long jet black hair tied back in a ponytail, looked more like a surfer than a guide. Christophe was obviously bothered by these new additions to the team, and even though he did not voice his objections, Jacob saw an issue.
‘Christophe I acquire knowledge as you do, my contacts, like yours are extensive, you just have to trust me.’ Jacob knew that Laurent would trust no one and was himself beyond trust, but Jacob would only have to tolerate him for a few days.
The river journey was more peaceful than their arrival in camp and Kevin took full advantage, his camera never stopped. Jacob was amused at his enthusiasm, happy to let his eyes and memory record the natural spectacle of the jungle. ‘Kevin how many memory cards have you brought for your camera?’
‘About twenty, in case I do not have time to upload them.’
‘That is thousands of photos?’
‘Yes, don’t want to miss anything.’
‘Fair enough, snap away, but none of me!’
And just as Jacob finished Kevin turned his camera and got three bursts, the third one showing a raised hand and smile from Jacob.
‘Just the one Jacob, I promise.’
Katherine was in the canoe travelling beside them, a few feet away and was laughing at Jacobs failed attempts to not be photographed.
The jungle was virtual primary rainforest, a few settlements on the riverbanks. Stilted houses with wooden walls and tin or grass roofs, erected six metres above the river, but not always from its reach. The only main highway through this environment was the river. Canoes and small boats passed them in both directions; trading and supplying the people of Esmeraldas, the Emerald country. Named by the Spanish, they presumed when greeted by the local Indians, adorned with emeralds and jewels, that the area was rich in jewels and named it because of that. However in the centuries that followed the true precious green of Ecuador became the jungle, more valuable than any stone, irreplaceable.
The trees reached down over the river, moss hanging from their overloaded branches, stretching out to grab any unsuspecting visitors. In the riverbanks parrot’s burrowed holes, seeking out the minerals in the river mud, the blaze of red and blue almost louder than their warning cries as the canoes approached. The river changed names as they progressed, starting on the Rio Cayapas then moving at a fork near Borbon into the Rio Santiago. They passed by San Miguel, the last settlement for some distance, the Ecolodge research station providing them with information on danger spots and weather issues. There was no heavy rain due, the forecast was the usual light low-level clouds generated by the jungle, and some southerly winds, nothing else. The river could rise and swell substantially with heavy rain, and being in a low-lying canoe in floodwater was dangerous for the locals, never mind visitors. They were invited to stop for lunch; a combination of fish caught that morning from the river and fresh vegetables.