Nelson Demille - The Quest

Henry pointed out, “Father Armano did not walk for four or five days from the monastery to the fortress.”

Gann said, “This priest was with soldiers who obviously knew the terrain, and they quick-marched this chap directly to the fortress and into his little cell.” He added, “But I am certain we are still within the area that we agreed at the spa would be the most likely territory for this monastery.” He further added, “That comports, too, with the travel time of the villagers to the meeting place.”

Purcell commented, “I didn’t realize how big four thousand square kilometers was.”

Mercado also pointed out, “For all we know, the monks picked a meeting place that was very far from their monastery. Maybe three or four days away.”

Gann replied, “Well, I hope not.”

Purcell said, “Let’s stick with the logical theory that the monks do not want to walk more than a day to meet the Falashas.” He added, “The monks are carrying stone knickknacks, for God’s sake.”

“Quite right,” Gann agreed.

Vivian was not much into theory or speculation, Purcell noticed, and she didn’t contribute to the men’s attempts to overthink and outthink themselves.

Gann noticed this and said to her, “Should we be waiting for divine inspiration?”

Vivian replied, “You can’t wait for it. It comes when it comes.” She added, “You can pray for it, though.”

“I’ve done that.”

“Try again,” she suggested.

As for the other group dynamics, Purcell had noticed that Henry seemed to have lost interest in Vivian-or in impressing her. There is nothing like exhaustion, thirst, hunger, and fear to get the old libido and weenie down, Purcell knew.

He hoped Henry would hold up, and that Vivian would not have to nurse her ex-lover again. But if it happened, that was all right.

They discussed security and possible run-ins with dangerous people.

Gann said, “The Gallas don’t much fancy the jungle, and we’ve seen no hoofprints or horse droppings. The Gallas’ home is the desert, and they only drop by places such as this after a battle.” He let them know, “The Royalist partisans are operating to the west, and the counterrevolutionaries are mostly in the Simien Mountains around Gondar, so there is no reason for Getachu’s soldiers to be here either. He has his hands full elsewhere.” He assured them, “We have the jungle all to ourselves.”

Purcell reminded him, “We’ve seen three army Hueys fly over.”

“I actually counted four. But these are normal north-south flights from Gondar to Addis, and vice versa.” He assured them, “The army has neither the fuel nor the helicopters for reconnaissance.”

Purcell reminded him, “They have one less helicopter than they used to have.”

“Quite right.”

He also reminded Gann, “Yesterday, a helicopter was going east-west.”

“Well, as long as they keep going, and don’t hover about, then they’re not looking for anything.”

“I think they’re looking for us, Colonel.”

“I doubt that. They think you’ve flown off to Somaliland.” He asked, “Why in the world would you stay here after you’ve shot down an army helicopter?”

“I’ve been asking myself that very question.”

Gann smiled and said, “Well, let’s press on.”

On day five, Mercado said, “We need to head to Shoan.” He reminded everyone, “We are running out of food.”

And Henry was running out of gas, Purcell knew. And they were all dehydrated and covered with insect bites and heat sores.

Mercado reminded Gann, “Regroup, refit, and strike out again.”

Gann nodded, but not very enthusiastically. He said, “I feel we should push on just a bit more… perhaps to the south, to a line parallel with Shoan. We might have more luck that way.” He added, “Then we can head east toward the road, and Shoan.”

Mercado had no reply.

Purcell said, “We could be south of Shoan already.”

“That’s possible.”

Mercado pointed out, “If we just head due east, we will intersect with the road.”

Gann reminded him, “We can’t go due any direction, old boy.” He pointed out, “This is not the desert or the tundra.” He reminded Mercado, “We’re in the bush, you know.”

Mercado insisted, “We have passed the point of no return in regards to food.”

“Not quite yet. But we’re close.”

“This is how people die.”

“Well,” Gann agreed, “that is one way. There are others.” He belatedly asked Mercado, “How are you feeling, old boy?”

Mercado hesitated, then said, “I can make it back to Shoan.”

“Good.” Gann also said, “We must be careful not to get injured or ill.”

Purcell agreed, “Let’s try not to do that.” He asked Vivian, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m all right.”

Purcell looked into the dark, triple-canopy jungle. “Let’s get off the trail and walk between the trees.” He took a compass heading to the south.

They left the trail, and headed south through the rain forest. The terrain had looked deceptively open between the trees, but as they traveled it, it became clear that they had to cut brush and vines, and the carpet of undergrowth, that had looked low, was actually knee-high in most places.

After about an hour, they realized they weren’t making good progress, and they also realized that by leaving the trail, they’d effectively lost it, and also lost any trail in the trackless expanse. It was like walking through a great columned building, Purcell thought, with a green-vaulted ceiling and a carpet of wait-a-minute vines. Rays of sunlight penetrated the triple canopy in places, and they found themselves unconsciously walking toward the spots of sun-dappled ground cover.

The darkness was getting deeper, and the sun was no longer penetrating into the forest. It was jungle dusk, and they began looking for a place to stop for the night.

Vivian said, “Look. A cluster of palms.”

They looked to where she was pointing to the west and they saw the distinctive trunks of palms, with their fronds buried in the surrounding growth.

They made their way to the palms, where the ground was more clear, and they sat with their backs to the palm trunks.

Gann looked up and said, “Doesn’t seem to be anything edible up there.”

Purcell handed him a cloth bag. “Have a date.”

They drank the last of their water and took stock of their food, which they estimated would last one more day.

Gann and Purcell looked at the map and they both agreed they were between twenty and thirty kilometers west of the road, though they couldn’t determine if they were north or south of Shoan. And Shoan was another thirty kilometers east of the road.

Gann said, “We are a long day’s march to Shoan.” He added, “Unless we run into rough country.”

Purcell said, “That was encouraging until ‘unless.’ ”

They all agreed they’d head back to Shoan in the morning.

Vivian stood and said, “Be right back.”

Everyone assumed she’d gone off to relieve herself, but she kept walking, and Purcell was concerned that she was becoming delirious and had seen another mirage. He couldn’t call out to her because they needed to be quiet, so he stood and caught up with her.

“Where are you going?”

“I saw a glint.”

“Really?”

“Right over here.”

He let her lead him farther into the tight undergrowth.

The ground was rising, he noticed, and he recalled the high, rocky ground he’d seen when he flew over this area, returning from Gondar.

The undergrowth began to thin, and he felt rocks beneath his feet.

He was looking where he stepped, and also looking left and right to be sure no one was there, and Vivian was ahead of him again. He drew his pistol from his cargo pocket and stuck it in his belt.