Survival Reflex

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Enriquez told him, eyes fixed on the wall of forest opposite. “I know a place where we can stay tonight. A village. By nightfall tomorrow, with luck, you can speak to your friend.”

“After all this time,” Bolan said, “you’re a closer friend to him than I am.”

“Maybe not.”

“I’m betting on it. And I’m hoping you can shed some light on why he chose this place.”

“We’ve never talked about it,” she replied. “I felt so lucky that the choice was made, for both my people and myself. I didn’t want to question it.”

“Okay.”

“But if I had to guess,” the woman went on, “I think he feels a need to heal the world. It sounds ridiculous, perhaps.”

“Not necessarily.”

“I think, for Dr. Weiss, it’s not enough to have an office in the city or to work at an important hospital. He talks about red tape sometimes. You know of this?”

“It rings a bell,” Bolan replied.

“He hates red tape and rules. Out here, I think, he finally feels free.”

And Bolan was supposed to talk him out of it.

Welcome home.

Belém

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you lost them both?”

Downey could feel the anger stirring, rising through his body like a head of steam seeking an outlet, throbbing in his ears, a second pulse. He didn’t need a mirror to imagine the pink color in his face.

“Um, well, sir,” Sutter stammered over the long-distance line, “we took the team as planned and checked that address you supplied us, half-past five in the a.m. They were already gone.”

“Checked out?”

“No, sir. I asked the desk clerk, after. They just walked. Nobody saw them go.”

Was that pure luck, or had somebody put a bug in Cooper’s ear? He would’ve been expecting company, after the ruckus in Belém, but not so soon. How could he know they’d pin him down that fast?

He couldn’t, Downey thought.

Luck, then—or else, the kind of skill that made dumb luck superfluous.

“All right, here’s what you do,” he said. “Get after them. I don’t care what you have to do, just find out where they’ve gone and follow them. You understand.”

“Yes, sir. But—”

“But nothing,” Downey cut him off. “You have one job and only one. Find Cooper and the woman. If they’re hiding in Cuiabá, root them out. If they’ve gone native and they’re swinging from the goddamned trees, you grab a vine and follow them. I hope you’re reading me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And when you find them, liquidate the problem, Sutter. Rub it out. Until that job is finished, you and Jones will not return. Under no circumstances known to God or man will I accept one more report of failure. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Then move your ass and get it done.”

Downey put down the telephone receiver, then immediately lifted it again. The urge to share his misery was irresistible. He dialed the number of security police headquarters from his memory, one of perhaps five hundred crucial numbers filed inside his head, and waited while his call was passed along to Anastasio Herreira’s desk.

“Está?” Herreira greeted him.

“Está, yourself. Are we secure?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve got bad news.”

“It’s the only kind you ever bring to me.”

“Somebody screwed the pooch this morning, in Cuiabá,” Downey said. “I’m not assigning blame, you understand. Mixed signals, who knows what it was. Long story short, we missed the woman and her friend at the hotel.”

“I see.” Herreira’s voice was glum.

“Now, what we need to do is find out where they’re going. Either head them off or trail them to their destination. Maybe wrap it up once and for all.”

“You make it sound like meeting old friends in the park,” Herreira said. “You think they’ll leave a trail for us to follow?”

“Everybody leaves a trail. It’s a fact of life. The trick is knowing what to look for, how to read the signs.”

“Mato Grosso is the third-largest state in Brazil, Senhor Downey, and the most sparsely populated. Outside Cuiabá—”

“I don’t need a geography lesson. I need hunters who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty.”

Herreira lowered his voice as he asked, “What is it you propose?”

“We have a chance to wrap this up once and for all, within the next few days, if we’re not squeamish. We’ve already missed our chance to stop the woman slipping past with her hireling, but the mistake may work for us if we’re quick enough.”

“You think they’ll lead us to the doctor?”

“That’s exactly what I think. Of course, we have to find them first.”

“And I must say again—”

“Don’t tell me what you can’t do. I need a can-do attitude for this job. Think about the money Langley’s pumped into your service, and the cut you’ve skimmed off for yourself.”

“Senhor—”

“Nobody’s faulting you,” Downey said. “Hell, I know the way things work. All I’m suggesting is that you should earn a little of that money, now and then. You need to work a little overtime, put extra bodies on the street.”