Page 94 of Fear No Evil
In that same instant, a voice came out of Fernando’s radio—Gallo’s voice barking orders in what was clearly a mobilization effort. Surely, they would wait until first light to ascend to the mountain. Apart from desperate escapees, no one traveled on the mountain at night.
Something Lobo had said in their briefing returned to Jake. Pivoting toward the radio equipment, he hunted for the device that was re-transmitting the radio waves being picked by the huge antenna outside.
This was Zen’s area of expertise, not Jake’s, but the rectangular black box with lights jumping on the display had to be a transmitter.
He waved the priest over. “See this, Father? I think it’s part of a repeater system for the FARC’s handheld radios. If we pull the power, they won’t be able to talk to each other unless they have a clear line of sight.”
“Oh, I see. I didn’t know that.” If the priest wondered where Jake’s French accent had gone, he didn’t ask.
Fernando, who was listening intently to the radio, hushed them suddenly.
The cave fell silent as Jake strained to hear what was being said. The man speaking in a strong Venezuelan dialect was unintelligible to him, but the crease appearing on Fernando’s grubby forehead spoke for itself. Jake braced himself.“Qué dijo?”What did he say?
“They’re bringing mortars,” the commando captain relayed.
“Right now?”
“No, no. At first light.”
Mortars. Jake envisioned their Sikorsky SH-60 Seahawk helicopter blowing into a ball of fire.
Not on my watch. “I’m unplugging this transmitter. If they can’t talk, they can’t plan.Vale?”
Fernando nodded.“Vale.”
As Jake unplugged the transmitter from its power source, the radio in the JUNGLA’s hand gave a hiss of static. With a grim smile, Fernando turned it off and set it aside.
That ought to slow the rebels down a bit.
“Let’s rest.” Jake returned to Lena’s side, passing Father Joshua on the way. “Sorry to kick you out of your bed, Father.”
The priest waved off his apology with a worried look. “She needs her rest more than I do.”
Back on his knees, Jake peeled off his glove to assess Lena’s fever. He’d never felt a hotter forehead. What were the chances his teamwouldn’tget here before the FARC and the Venezuelans did?
Surely, God wouldn’t have brought them this far only to deny them His protection at the last minute. Jake lifted a worried gaze to the priest hovering over him. “Father, please say a prayer for our safety.”
The buzzing of his military sat phone roused Jake from a light sleep. Snatching it from his pocket, he checked the time as he answered, surprised to discover he had slept sitting on the floor with his head resting on the cot next to Lena’s. It was zero-five-hundred hours, which meant the sun was starting to rise; impossible to tell in this windowless radio station, which was dark inside, save for the electronic equipment on the opposite wall.
“Go ahead.”
“Status update.” It was Lobo. “The electrical problem is resolved, and we’re on our way—ETA, two hours.”
Relief flooded Jake, followed by apprehension. “Copy.” By the time the helo arrived, the sun would have been up for a while, giving the FARC and their allies plenty of time to hustle up the mountain toArribaand then follow their quarry’s tracks in the snow to the radio station. “We might have company by then, and they might be bringing mortars.”
The beat of silence before Lobo signed off conveyed the same consternation Jake was feeling. Putting his phone away, he clicked on his penlight, shining it first at Lena, who flinched from the light but didn’t waken. With a heavy heart, he palmed her forehead, then turned his penlight on the JUNGLA, finding all three of them sitting up and eyeing him expectantly.
“Let’s move.” As they came to their feet, David and the priest, who were also sprawled on the rug, stirred. The latter got up and switched on the light.
“I think I have somesalame de llamahere somewhere.” Padre Josué went hunting in the cupboards for some sustenance.
A short time later, their stomachs sated with llama jerky, Jake stepped out of the radio station with the three JUNGLA and David and shut the door behind him. The sky was as gray as their granite surroundings, the air filled with flurries kicked up from the ground. Jake tugged his gloves back on while the JUNGLA secured the blankets Father Joshua had given them more securely around their frames. Poor David just had his poncho.
“We have firepower and the advantage of higher ground,” Jake reassured them, getting earnest nods in return. “Let’s spread out on the ridge overlookingArribaand protect this summit from encroachment. David, we could use you to run messages between us.”
“Sí,Jacques.”
“Bueno. Let’s have a look at our arsenal.”