Herculean (Cerberus Group #1)

“No additional flight plans have been filed.”


Pierce processed the information for a moment. Belem, situated at the mouth of the Amazon, seemed an unlikely destination. Given Cerberus’s far-flung operations, there was no guarantee that the jet’s current destination had anything to do with what Kenner was after. If the incident in Liberia had indeed been a weapons test, then maybe the Amazon rainforest was intended to be the next phase of a different plan, unrelated to what Kenner was looking for. Perhaps Cerberus intended to employ the carnivorous vine against some of the native tribes who opposed development of their ancestral homeland. Or it might be something else entirely. His gut told him that where the plane had been was probably more important than where it was going.

But what if I’m wrong? What if Augustina and Fiona are aboard that plane?

“Cintia, we need to get eyes on that plane. Contact Aegis. See if they have any operatives in the region.”

“The nearest Aegis office is in Rio,” Dourado replied. “They will not be able to get someone here in time.”

Pierce frowned, wracking his brain to come up with an alternative. “Give them a call anyway. Maybe they can recommend someone local. A private eye or—”

“I will do it,” Dourado said. All of her earlier enthusiasm was gone. Her voice was now so small it was barely audible.

“Cintia—”

“There is no one else. Not that can be here in time.”

Pierce felt a pang of guilt for even considering the suggestion. Dourado was a computer jockey, not a field operative. Given the circumstances, the narrow window of opportunity and the lack of alternatives, he could not argue with her. But the idea of putting her in danger, even if the actual risk was minimal, made him sick to his stomach.

Being in charge really sucks.

“Just get eyes on. Don’t approach them. In fact, if Augustina and Fiona are there, don’t let them see you. Wear a…” He was about to say ‘hat’ then thought better of it. “A disguise of some kind. I don’t want you to put yourself in any danger.”

“I’m on it,” she said.

“Thank you, Cintia. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He looked over at Carter. “How much longer?”

“Anywhere from twenty minutes to four hours.”

Four hours. Kenner might be on the ground in Belem before they could even leave Gorham’s Cave. Leaving Lazarus and Carter behind was not an option. He would need the big man’s help to rescue Gallo and Fiona, and he was not about to ask Carter to stay by herself.

“However,” Carter continued, as if sensing his inner turmoil. “I can access the results remotely. We could leave right now if you want.”

Perfect. “Cintia, be careful. Don’t do anything dangerous. We’re on our way.”





28



Cerberus Headquarters



The door opened and another tray slid across the threshold. It was the third such delivery and Fiona’s only contact with the world beyond the walls of her prison. She guessed the interval between meals to be about three hours—there was no way to tell for sure—which meant that about six hours had passed since her conversation with Gallo. In all that time, the television screen had remained dark. She assumed that she was being monitored by her unseen captors, which meant that what she was about to do now might be very dangerous, but still preferable to doing nothing at all.

As soon as the tray cleared the sweep of the door, she bolted into motion, crossing the room in three long strides, armed with a plastic fork. She slide the utensil between the door and its frame just before it could close. There was a faint tremor as the latch bolt struck the prongs of the fork. She held her breath, praying that her jailor wouldn’t test to make sure the bolt had seated properly.

A moment passed. Five seconds. Ten.

Nothing happened.

She let her breath out slowly. With painstaking caution, she relaxed her hold on the stem of the fork. The pressure of the spring-loaded latch bolt held it in place. Her plan, this much of it at least, was working.

She took a step back, dropping her hands to her hips in what she hoped would look like a display of frustration, and then picked up the tray and carried it back to the bed. If someone was watching, they would think that her escape attempt had been unsuccessful. That was what she hoped, anyway.

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