He pointed toward a boardwalk a block away. “The boats are just ahead. If you want a drink before you leave, try the Café Maria. It’s my cousin’s place. Tell them Tiago sent you and they might give you discount.”
“Thank you again,” Amanda said, bending over to give him a little wave.
As the Brazilian made a quick U-turn and headed back toward the city, Amanda let out a little sigh. Her body ached from head to toe, and she felt a migraine coming on, but she was finally here. In a few short minutes, she’d be with people she knew and the nightmare of the last twenty-four hours would be over.
She pulled out the telescoping handles of her luggage and started down the boardwalk. On her right was a line of cafés and bars. Ahead and to the left was a long series of docks that stretched into the distance. She had exchanged a few texts with Zane that morning and knew that the boat would be all the way at the end.
The smell of freshly cooked food assailed her nostrils as she walked. Several men stood in front of their shops, offering wrapped pieces of fish and skewers of cooked meat. She was tempted but resisted and continued on her way.
As she neared the docks, she saw the sign for Café Maria. She hadn’t planned on stopping, but she was thirsty. Why not? It might be days before she had anything other than bottled water and MREs.
The covered but open-air restaurant was packed with humanity. There were perhaps a hundred tables, all kept cool by twirling fans that dangled from the high ceiling. Pushing through the crowd, she was surprised to find two empty stools at the bar. She promptly sat down on one then scooted her luggage up as close as possible.
One of the bartenders slid toward her, placed his hand on the bar, and asked something in Portuguese. Amanda did a double take, startled at the man’s appearance. He looked exactly like Enrique Iglesias, right down to the boyish locks combed across his forehead.
The man raised an eyebrow and patted his hand gently on the bar. Amanda blushed as she realized she’d been staring at him. “Oh, sorry. An orange juice in a to-go cup, please.”
Enrique lifted a thumb to signify he understood. As Amanda looked through her purse for some bills, a man stepped up to the other open stool and bent over the bar.
Another American, she thought as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was wearing a Carolina Hurricanes cap, and a pair of aviator sunglasses hid his eyes. His arms were well muscled and tan, as were the legs that stuck out of beige cargo shorts.
“You know, I’m pretty sure he saw you blushing,” the man said.
Startled, she turned toward him. “Excuse me?”
The man sported a week’s growth of beard, but his features seemed vaguely familiar.
He gave her a wry smile and said, “I just need you to know I’m a little hurt that you don’t recognize me.”
And then it hit her. Why hadn’t she recognized him immediately? “Zane?”
“The one and only. How are you?”
“I’m great!” she said, throwing her arms around him.
After the long hug, he pulled back and rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “Not a bad disguise, eh?”
“You had me fooled.” She noticed he didn’t have his customary long locks. “Did you cut your hair?”
Zane patted his cap. “No, just tucked away. You look great, by the way.”
“Thank you.”
The bartender returned with Amanda’s orange juice. She fished in her pocket for money, but Zane waved her off. “This one’s on me.”
“Why thank you.”
He then turned to the bartender and ordered something in Portuguese.
“Wow, you speak the language. I’m impressed.”
“I know about fifty words, and that was probably a third of them.”
“So what did you get?”
“Some frozen pineapple concoction. It’s my second one. Figured it would put me in the mood. How was your trip?”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask.”
Zane laughed. “Uh-oh. I won’t, then.”
The bartender returned with the drink. Zane thanked him and placed several bills on the counter.
Turning, he grabbed the handles of her luggage. “You ready?”
She held up her orange juice. “As I’ll ever be!”
As they walked along the docks, Amanda marveled at the number and variety of boats. Everything from kayaks and motorized canoes to a few large yachts and cruise boats sat moored to the docks. There wasn’t an inch of unused space anywhere.
“Is everyone here?” she asked.
“No, we still haven’t heard from two members of the team.”
Amanda could sense frustration in his voice. “I hope nothing is wrong.”
He paused a moment before answering. “I was supposed to speak to our two anthropologists last night and never heard from them.”
“Did you call them?”
He nodded. “No answer. I’m sure everything is fine.”
Amanda decided to change the subject. “I have to tell you I’m so looking forward to meeting Dr. Mills.”
Zane’s brow furrowed. “You know her?”
“Of course. Well, I don’t know her… I know of her. She’s a big name in academic circles. One of the biggest—”
“Well, well, look who’s here,” said a male voice ahead.
Amanda looked up. A man with dark hair stood on one of the docks next a large cruise boat. He held a box, and a huge grin was plastered on his face. She recognized him immediately. “Brett!”
The technology specialist leaned over and set the box down next to some others. “Glad to see you made it all safe and sound.”
Amanda ran over and hugged his neck. Pulling back, she said, “I’m safe… not sure about the sound part.”
“Well, at least you got here in one piece.”
“Amanda, I’d like to introduce you to some members of our team,” Zane said.
She turned and noticed that four men were standing on the deck of the boat just a few feet away. There were all dressed the same in multi-pocketed cargo pants and dark gray T-shirts. One of the men was African-American and bald. Another had close-cropped blond hair. The remaining two wore full beards and hair down to their shoulders. The shorter one had wavy red hair and the other dark brown.
Despite their garb and varied appearance, she knew immediately they were all military. The two with longer hair had probably grown it in order to blend in. She had seen pictures of SEALS in Afghanistan who had done the same thing.
Zane gestured toward the African-American soldier. “This is Corporal Desmond Wilson.”
He smiled and offered his hand to her. “You can call me Dez.”
“Nice to meet you, Dez,” she said.
Zane next indicated the one with the close-cropped blond hair. “This is Corporal Paul Nash.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” His eyes roamed a bit much for her taste. Need to keep my eye on him, she thought.
“And finally,” Zane said, gesturing toward the other two men, “we have Sergeant Landon Tocchet and Sergeant First Class Rod Bennett.”
The two men leaned over the rail and shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Sergeant Bennett said. He tugged on his hair and said, “I apologize for our appearance.”
“No worries. I’m sure after a few days in the jungle, you guys won’t even want to look at me.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” Zane said.
Amanda popped him on the arm as the soldiers returned to their duties. She noticed that Nash looked at her as he walked away. He gave her a little smile, but she quickly turned to look at Zane.
Brett lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the early-morning sun. “Still no sign of Dr. Mills?”
Zane frowned. “Not that I saw.”