“Yep. Here they are,” and Bear handed the duffle bags and briefcase over the desk. “Be careful with that case, it contains the blood and DNA samples Dr. Williams took from the villagers.”
Mendez unzipped the duffle bags and bent to look inside them. “And this Dr. Williams?”
“He is swimming with the fishes in the river, along with his bitch friend and the native boy,” Jinx piped up from behind Bear, a snarl on his lips.
Mendez pursed his lips and smiled. “Colonel Blackman will be most happy to hear that.” He stood up and put his general’s cap on his head. “I will leave immediately by jet airplane to take these samples to the colonel.”
He stopped suddenly, his mouth agape when three MP5 machine guns were suddenly pointed at his midsection.
“Uh, I’m afraid that is not going to happen until I talk with Colonel Blackman, General.”
Mendez’s lips tightened, but he stepped back behind the desk, dialed the phone, and handed it to Bear.
A moment later, Blackman answered, “Hello, General. Did everything go all right?”
“It’s not the general, Blackman. It’s Bear.”
“Oh…” there was a pause. “So, Bear, is everything on track?”
“Yep, the general has all the plant specimens as well as the blood and DNA samples Dr. Williams took. Now all that has to happen for him to be on his way to you with them is for you to pay me and my men our fee.”
“But, that wasn’t our deal!” Blackman bellowed. “You were to be paid when I got the samples and made sure they were legitimate.”
“That deal was made before you assigned us to terminate your spy, Janus, in order to tie up loose ends. Now my men and me are figuring we might just qualify as loose ends, too, so we’d just as soon be paid now and then we’ll be glad to finish your dirty work for you, Colonel.”
“I will not be blackmailed like this!” Blackman shouted. “I’ll have you and your men hunted down and…”
“Hold this phone, General,” Bear said and handed the phone to Mendez while Blackman was in midshout.
“Jinx,” Bear said.
“Yes, sir,” Jinx replied and he took the duffle bags and briefcase from Mendez and stepped over and sat them in the corner of the office.
Hoss then pulled a small bottle of alcohol from his coat pocket and began to pour it over the duffle bags and briefcase while Bear took out a Zippo lighter and snapped its flame to life.
As he bent over to hold it next to the alcohol-soaked duffels, Mendez shouted, “Wait!”
He began to speak rapidly into the phone, describing what Bear and his men were up to.
After a few seconds, his face pale, he handed the phone back to Bear.
“You were saying, Colonel?” Bear asked sarcastically.
“Okay, you win. I’ll have the money transferred to the account numbers in the Caymans you gave me. But…”
Bear cut him off. “You’ve got fifteen minutes, Colonel, and then we have ourselves a wienie roast.” He hung up the phone and looked at his watch.
Glancing at Mendez, he stepped over behind the desk, pulled Mendez to his feet, and pushed him aside. He sat down and put his iPhone on the desk and keyed in the Internet function and logged onto the Cayman bank’s website where they did business.
A moment later he smiled, keyed in his account number, and transferred all of the money Blackman had just deposited into another account that Blackman knew nothing about.
He stood up, and Jinx sat down and did the same with his accounts, as did Hoss and Psycho after him.
When they had all moved their money out of Blackman’s reach, Bear shook Mendez’s hand. “General, we’re gonna borrow your helicopter for a short ride to where we have our plane stashed. We’ll radio you the coordinates of where it can be picked up in a couple of hours. It was nice doing business with you.”
Jinx gave a mock salute as they left the office. “Tell your friend Blackman we’ll be in touch… and to keep looking over his shoulder.”
Hoss touched his forehead. “A pleasure, General.”
Psycho just pursed his lips and gave a smacking kiss good-bye.
Babe just nodded, and then smiled a smile that made the hair on the back of Mendez’s neck rise.
Suddenly he felt a rumbling in his stomach and then a horrible stench arose from his chair. He realized he’d soiled his pants and ran quickly toward the nearest restroom.
Mason and Motzi were awoken at five o’clock in the morning to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and what looked to be homemade biscuits.
Just as they were digging in, Lauren appeared in the doorway looking fresh as a daisy.
As she helped herself to coffee and breakfast and sat down to join the men, the commander walked in, a sheepish grin on his face.
“Uh-oh,” Mason said. “What’s up?”
“In a clear violation of all standards of political correctness, the men made me promise to give you this, Dr. Sullivan.”
He handed her a rolled-up piece of thick paper.
She unrolled it, read it, and then burst out laughing, her face flaming red.
Mason raised his eyebrows and she showed it to him. It read, “Dr. Lauren Sullivan” in an elaborate handwritten calligraphy script across the top of the page. Below it read, “Voted the doctor most Marines would love to be lost in the jungle with.”
Mason also laughed and showed the paper to Motzi, who raised his eyebrows in question, obviously unable to read the fancy script. “I’ll bet the vote was one hundred percent,” Mason said.
The commander blushed again and he said, “Actually there was one dissenter. The cook voted for you, Dr. Williams.”
“You’re kidding,” Mason said, with a puzzled look on his face.
The commander shrugged, “It’s a new Marine Corps. We don’t ask and they don’t tell.”
Now both Lauren and Mason laughed out loud, with Piner joining in.
Mason glanced at a still puzzled Motzi and between guffaws he said, “I’ll explain to you later.”
“Enough fun and games,” Piner said when he’d finally managed to quit laughing. “Get geared up, you guys. We’ll be in range in fifteen minutes and we need to get you on the chopper.”
As Mason rose, he said, “I didn’t see any helicopters on deck when you picked us up.”
“You’re right, Doc. The Makin Island has steamed on an intercept course with us all night and is now only a few miles away. She’s sending over one of her CH-53 Sea Stallion helicopters.”
“Sea Stallion?” Lauren asked.
“You’ve probably seen earlier versions on old films of the evacuation of Saigon at the end of the Vietnam War,” Piner said. “They’re the ones you saw picking up people from the embassies and military camps. They’ve been updated quite a bit, and now they’re great for transporting personnel and are just right for jungle overflight and letting you guys down in small areas surrounded by trees and jungle bush.”
“Can they land on the deck to pick us up?” Mason asked.
Piner shook his head. “No, but they’ll hover just a few feet above the deck and we’ll make sure you are all lifted aboard.”
“What about the Marines?” Mason asked.
“Who do you think will be standing in line to help lift Dr. Sullivan aboard?” Piner replied with a wink.
Then he smiled. “But you and Motzi just might have to get aboard on your own.”
Chapter 40
Just before Mason left the ward room on the way to the helicopter pickup, his sat-phone buzzed and he took the call.
He turned his back to Lauren and Motzi and spoke in low tones for several moments, and then he nodded and hung up the phone.
Lauren gazed at him through squinted eyes. “You got that cat-that-ate-the-canary look on your face, boss man. You’re up to something… I know you.”