Read Area 51: The Mission-3 for Free Online Page A
Authors: Robert Doherty
stream and the helmsman cut the engines. Ruiz reacted instinctively to the tangle of fallen trees that blocked the stream ahead, pulling his pistol out. He knelt behind the small wall, pointing his weapon ahead, searching for the ambush he expected to leap out of the foliage all around as he yelled for the men on the deck to be ready.
Nervous eyes scanned the jungle all around them,
36
waiting for the darts and arrows of the headhunters to come flicking out. But nothing happened.
Harrison was kneeling next to him. "What do you think?"
If there were any headhunters about, there was no doubt in Ruiz's mind that the boat's presence had long been detected and whispering was not needed, but he played along. "I do not know, senor." He peered at the trees. They'd been hacked down and pulled across the stream. Beyond he could see some smoke, maybe from a cooking fire. There was a small patch of thatched roof visible above the fallen trees. "There is a village there."
"An Aymara village?" Harrison asked.
This was headhunter territory, and Ruiz doubted it would be the Aymara. "I do not know."
"Can we get through the trees?" Harrison asked.
Ruiz took a deep breath. The stream had been blocked for a reason. Any fool could see that. "I will look, senor."
He stood and signaled for a couple of men to accompany him. He walked up to the front of the boat, then looked down. The water below was dark brown. He knew from the sounding it was about four feet deep. Ruiz slid over the side of the boat, the warm water embracing him.
The two men he had chosen looked nervous, and he didn't blame them. Death was all around them in the form of the jungle. The bottom under his feet was muddy.
Ruiz pushed forward, holding his pistol above the water, as did the other two men.
They reached the block. Ruiz climbed up the tangled limbs and looked. A small village of about ten or twelve huts was in a clearing on the gentle bank that led down to the stream. There was no one moving about. A pile of smoldering logs on the right side of the village was the
37
source of the smoke. There were also the remains of several huts that had been burned to the ground.
Ruiz frowned. The stream was also blocked on the far side of the village. What had the villagers wanted to stop? And where were they? Who had destroyed the huts?
He signaled for the two men to follow. He climbed along the logs until he was on the same shore as the village. He pushed through the undergrowth until he reached the clearing. Then he caught a scent in the air and stopped in midstep.
He didn't recognize the smell, but it was terrible. He continued on.
Reaching the village, Ruiz first looked more closely at the pile of logs. He gagged as he now saw the cause of the awful smell. They weren't wood. They were bodies, piled four deep, smoldering.
He heard the two thugs begin praying to the Virgin Mother, and he felt like joining them. Ruiz went to the first hut and used the muzzle of his pistol to push aside the cloth that hung in the doorway. The stench that greeted his nostrils there was even worse than that of the burning flesh. The walls were spattered with blood. There was a body on the floor.
Ruiz had seen many bodies in his time, but this one did not look as if it had been killed by an explosion. However, that was the only thing he could think of that would cause the mangled flesh and the amount of blood splattered all around the interior.
Ruiz moved to the next hut, but paused as he heard Harrison's voice. "What is going on, Ruiz?"
"I do not know, senor." He looked back. Harrison was on the shore, walking toward him.
Harrison wrinkled his nose. "What is that stink?"
Ruiz pointed. "Bodies. Burning."
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The American's eyes narrowed. "What has happened here?"
Ruiz felt fear now, an icy trickle running down his spine and curling into his stomach. He cared nothing for legends right now. He pulled aside the curtain to the next hut.
A family lay huddled together. All
Nervous eyes scanned the jungle all around them,
36
waiting for the darts and arrows of the headhunters to come flicking out. But nothing happened.
Harrison was kneeling next to him. "What do you think?"
If there were any headhunters about, there was no doubt in Ruiz's mind that the boat's presence had long been detected and whispering was not needed, but he played along. "I do not know, senor." He peered at the trees. They'd been hacked down and pulled across the stream. Beyond he could see some smoke, maybe from a cooking fire. There was a small patch of thatched roof visible above the fallen trees. "There is a village there."
"An Aymara village?" Harrison asked.
This was headhunter territory, and Ruiz doubted it would be the Aymara. "I do not know."
"Can we get through the trees?" Harrison asked.
Ruiz took a deep breath. The stream had been blocked for a reason. Any fool could see that. "I will look, senor."
He stood and signaled for a couple of men to accompany him. He walked up to the front of the boat, then looked down. The water below was dark brown. He knew from the sounding it was about four feet deep. Ruiz slid over the side of the boat, the warm water embracing him.
The two men he had chosen looked nervous, and he didn't blame them. Death was all around them in the form of the jungle. The bottom under his feet was muddy.
Ruiz pushed forward, holding his pistol above the water, as did the other two men.
They reached the block. Ruiz climbed up the tangled limbs and looked. A small village of about ten or twelve huts was in a clearing on the gentle bank that led down to the stream. There was no one moving about. A pile of smoldering logs on the right side of the village was the
37
source of the smoke. There were also the remains of several huts that had been burned to the ground.
Ruiz frowned. The stream was also blocked on the far side of the village. What had the villagers wanted to stop? And where were they? Who had destroyed the huts?
He signaled for the two men to follow. He climbed along the logs until he was on the same shore as the village. He pushed through the undergrowth until he reached the clearing. Then he caught a scent in the air and stopped in midstep.
He didn't recognize the smell, but it was terrible. He continued on.
Reaching the village, Ruiz first looked more closely at the pile of logs. He gagged as he now saw the cause of the awful smell. They weren't wood. They were bodies, piled four deep, smoldering.
He heard the two thugs begin praying to the Virgin Mother, and he felt like joining them. Ruiz went to the first hut and used the muzzle of his pistol to push aside the cloth that hung in the doorway. The stench that greeted his nostrils there was even worse than that of the burning flesh. The walls were spattered with blood. There was a body on the floor.
Ruiz had seen many bodies in his time, but this one did not look as if it had been killed by an explosion. However, that was the only thing he could think of that would cause the mangled flesh and the amount of blood splattered all around the interior.
Ruiz moved to the next hut, but paused as he heard Harrison's voice. "What is going on, Ruiz?"
"I do not know, senor." He looked back. Harrison was on the shore, walking toward him.
Harrison wrinkled his nose. "What is that stink?"
Ruiz pointed. "Bodies. Burning."
38
The American's eyes narrowed. "What has happened here?"
Ruiz felt fear now, an icy trickle running down his spine and curling into his stomach. He cared nothing for legends right now. He pulled aside the curtain to the next hut.
A family lay huddled together. All
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