Burial Ground

VI

October 27^th

2:58 a.m.

Tasker crouched at the base of a moss-covered stone formation shaped like a sinking ocean liner, concealed by the masses of shrubbery and the enormous prehistoric trees on the crest of the southeastern rim of the bowl-shaped valley. He brought the night vision scopes to his eyes and again surveyed the camp. Where once there had been five men patrolling the perimeter of the oblong circle of tents, nearly concealed by the wide arms of the Brazil nut trees, there were now only two. They feigned nonchalance, but Tasker knew better. These men were professionals with military training. It was obvious from their posture, their stride, and the angles they maintained to one another while surveying the forest. The arrogance that radiated from them. These were men whose egos were bolstered by skill and experience. Their impudence would be their undoing.

The shift change at precisely two a.m. had been rigid, and the discussions more involved than a simple verbal exchange in passing. They had obviously sensed they were being tailed, and thus stood at heightened awareness. Tasker had planned for this contingency, of course. He had never expected to be able to follow them upriver without betraying their presence, not while maintaining the necessary proximity to keep from being shaken. It was all part of the game. As long as their quarry continued to look over their shoulders, they wouldn't be focused on what was ahead.

His right hand in this operation, Corporal Terrence McMasters, appeared as a faint shadow among shadows to the southwest of the camp exactly as he had been instructed. The soldier was flat on his belly in a snarl of vegetation, visible only for a split-second by the whites of his eyes before he again closed them. He was within feet of the stacks of supplies unloaded from the boats. Less than a minute later, he was gone, his assignment complete.

Tasker lowered the lenses and crawled back around the stone abutment until he was safely on the other side of the mountain before standing. The rain drew lines through the mud he had smeared over his face and hair, and which still clung to his fatigues. It reeked of sulfur and decay, but in addition to making him nearly invisible against the ground and the night, it held the mosquitoes at bay.

He half-slid, half-scrabbled down the wet slope, silently skirting massive trees and jagged boulders, and slipping through tangles of shrubbery like a ghost. Even he didn't see the three men guarding their boats until he was right on top of them. He both confirmed the success of the mission and dismissed them with a nod. Making no more sound than the falling rain, the men, specters as intangible as mist, eased their boat out of the undergrowth and into the river. They pushed away from the bank and drifted into the fog that clung to the rapids, and then they were gone.

Tasker vanished into the recently vacated blind and waited for McMasters. Two hours from now, before the first rays of the rising sun highlighted the cloud cover, they would rendezvous with the rest of the unit several miles to the east. Then the waiting would begin.

He withdrew the handheld tracking device from inside his filthy jacket and shielded the display with his hand before turning it on. A small blue beacon radiated in concentric rings at the center of the grid. Everything was going according to plan. He switched off the unit and returned it to his jacket.

Half an hour later, McMasters emerged from the forest, and together they lowered their craft into the water. With a shove, they floated away from the shore and gained momentum as they were carried downriver.

Soon enough, their tracking would begin in earnest. For now, they had plenty of time to relax and let their prey expend all of their energy hacking through the forest and creating their path for them. Then all they would have to do was overwhelm them once they found the rest of the relics.

It was now only a matter of time before they were multimillionaires.

Tasker couldn't help but smile in the darkness.

No one would ever find the bodies. There were countless places to dispose of the remains, and just as many creatures that would be happy to expedite the process of decomposition.

There was just one more thing he had to do before the hunt officially commenced.