“I’m guessing we’re supposed to see what’s under the blanket,” she said. “And I’m betting we won’t like what we find.”
“I wouldn’t take that bet.”
She took several tentative steps closer. The concealed box resting on the four-legged metal stand was the size and shape of her Army footlocker. Would it explode if they got closer? A vision surfaced of the men who had failed to solve the first clue and had been shredded by shrapnel.
“Safe to assume it’s some sort of trap,” she said over her shoulder. “Remember what Nemesis said, though. We’re in a game. A competition. I don’t believe he would design a challenge that didn’t have a solution. He’s testing us, and there’s no fun in creating an IED that simply detonates.”
“You’re saying he wants to give us a chance to figure out his sick game,” Toro said. “He gets off on outsmarting us, and he can’t do that without giving us a puzzle to solve.”
“That’s how I see it.” She reached out and grasped the corner of the dense blanket. “Stand back. If it blows, only one of us will get caught in the explosion.”
She waited for him to take several steps back, noting the surprise in his expression. He had a lot to learn about self-sacrifice and teamwork. While she didn’t trust him in the slightest, she would damn well work with him, and that meant leading by example.
As soon as he was clear, she yanked the blanket off and took a step back, stunned at what lay hidden underneath.
A plexiglass terrarium was perched on the stand. Inside was a massive, lethal-looking king cobra coiled in multilayered rings. Its forked tongue flicked out, lifting up and down before slipping back inside its fanged mouth. She was no herpetologist but knew enough about snakes to understand that it was gathering information about them.
“There’s a lid on the tank,” she said to Toro. “It’s latched shut so the cobra can’t escape. Let’s check it out.”
“Go ahead.” He paled. “I’ll stay right here.”
She shot him a look before bending to examine the terrarium.
“There’s an envelope inside with the snake,” she called out to Toro. “Another clue, no doubt.”
“Fine,” Toro said. “We’ll leave it for someone else. Let’s go.”
She rested a hand on her hip. “Scared of snakes?”
“Rattler bit me when I was a teenager. The pain was mind blowing.” He shuddered. “Nearly died before they got me to the hospital. I’ve had nightmares ever since.”
Dani gave her head a small shake. She had given Toro the opportunity to bluff his way out of the situation, but instead he’d admitted a weakness that the enemy could overhear. She didn’t bother to point out his tactical error now that the damage was done.
“We may not get another chance,” she said to him, changing the subject. “I’m going to figure out a way to get that envelope.”
“I’d give you the knife.” He glanced down at the boot that held the knife they had taken from Chopper. “But I can’t see how it will do you much good.”
“It won’t.” She waved the suggestion away as if she didn’t care. “I’ll think of something else.”
She filed the comment away. Toro claimed to be her ally, yet he was hesitant to relinquish control of their only weapon. Was he waiting for the right moment to sink the blade between her shoulder blades? She almost smiled. Let him try.
Turning her attention back to the immediate problem, she examined the tank from all angles. The cobra turned its hooded head to follow her progress as she circled the terrarium. She had been around snakes from all over the world and had developed a working knowledge of their capabilities. Occasionally one of her fellow Rangers had been bitten, but she’d never experienced that particular pleasure.
“The cobra views me as a threat,” she muttered to herself. “How can I convince him I’m not?” She paused. “Better yet, how can I lure him out of the tank to get what’s inside?”
Toro’s response bordered on panic. “Don’t let that damned thing out.”
Ignoring him, she studied the snake more closely. “I can’t tell if it’s a spitting cobra.”
“What difference does it make?” Toro asked her. “It’s poisonous. It’ll kill you.”
“Spitting cobras can spew a stream of venom from as much as six feet away.” She threw him a look. “They aim for your eyes, and the toxin can cause permanent blindness.”
“Well isn’t that just the pickle on top of this turd sandwich?”
She strolled around the tank again, thinking. Snakes could not hear, but they keyed in on movement, and their sight was good. An idea occurred to her.
She stooped to pick up the blanket. “This wasn’t just left here to hide the tank. It’s part of the solution to the problem.”
“What the hell are you going to—”
“I need something to catch him.”
“Exactly how are you going to get him to—”
“Leave it to me.” She lifted the blanket. “I’m going to unlatch the lid and open the terrarium while you keep the snake distracted.”
“Are you loca?”
“You need to stand in front of the tank and make a lot of big movements. You need to be close enough for the snake to view you as a threat, but not so close he can lunge out and bite you.”
“You said he could spit venom and blind me. I’m not getting near that thing.”
“I said maybe he was a spitting cobra. I don’t know. If you’re concerned about it, just keep a hand over your eyes. That’s where he’ll aim.”
“How long have you been doing hard drugs, because you’re high if you think I’m going along with this suicidal plan.”
“You know, I think it’s a good idea for you to cover your eyes. That way you won’t see what’s going on. It’ll help you stay calm.”
“Let me get this straight. I’m going to scare the snake so you can do . . . what?”
“Sneak up behind it and throw the blanket over its head. Once I do that, I’ll have to move quickly. The blanket’s thick, so that helps. I’ll pin his head down to the bottom of the tank and you reach in and grab the envelope.”
“No. Fucking. Way.”
“If anyone’s going to get bitten, it’s me.” She moved to the back of the tank and put her hand on the latch. “Besides, if he does spit, he won’t be able to do it once I drop the blanket on his head.”
“You’re going to do this, aren’t you?”
“The top is coming off. Are you with me or not?”
Cursing, he moved closer to the glass case. The cobra swiveled its head to look at him, apparently not sure who presented the greater threat.
“Get his attention,” she said to Toro. “Wave your arm and move your body.”
Toro lifted a hand to cover his eyes and began sweeping his other hand back and forth. The snake hissed, flared its hood wider, and moved with him.
“Good,” she said, gradually lifting the lid. “He’s following your hand. Keep it up.”
The snake rose from its coil, head swaying as its reptilian eyes stayed locked on Toro’s quivering hand. She bent to place the lid on the floor, then chose her moment and flung the blanket onto the snake.
“Got him.” She forced its head down as its body uncoiled, writhing beneath both her hands. The cobra was stronger than she had anticipated. “Hurry up and grab that damned envelope,” she said to Toro, who had dropped his hands to his sides and appeared rooted to the spot. “I can’t hold him much longer.”
Her comment seemed to break the spell, and he reached in beside her to grasp a corner of the envelope, sliding it out as the snake thrashed.
“Now what are you going to do?” he asked her.
Good question. “Get the lid and put it back on when I say.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Do it!”
He bent and snatched up the lid, then stood beside her.
“When I say go, I’ll pull back. It will take him a second or two to get out from under the blanket. That will give us enough time to get the lid back on before he can strike or spit.”
She waited a beat for him to steel himself. “Go.”
She released her hold on the viper, pulling back out of the way as Toro slammed the lid down on top of the terrarium and latched it shut. The cobra flailed a moment longer; then its hooded head shot out from under the blanket. It reared back and struck at the glass in a frenzy of fear, rage, or both.
“Glad that’s over,” a deep male voice said from the doorway behind them. “Now you can hand that envelope over to me.”
They both spun to see Doc Tox holding a semiautomatic pistol.
CHAPTER 34
Wu sat in the front passenger seat of the black Tahoe while Flint maneuvered through the heavy Queens traffic. It had taken forty-five minutes to make it from Manhattan by way of the Queens–Midtown Tunnel. Judging by Flint’s gritted teeth and liberal use of profanity, he was every bit as frustrated with their tedious progress.